Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Danny stirred as the plane began its descent. He’d been travelling for two days straight, through two continents, and he was completely exhausted. As he exited the plane, he turned on his cellphone and looked at his messages. His editor, his mother, a woman he’d met in Singapore and a familiar number that he didn’t have saved in this phone. It was a message from Katie Witt, his former co-worker from the White House press corps. He smirked as he listened to his voicemail.

“Hey, Danny. Mike told me you were on your way back to DC. Are you staying for more than half a day? A bunch of us are meeting at the usual place tonight if you wanna come and reminisce about the good ole days. Call me when you land.”
The message ended, and Danny was filled with painful nostalgia. He’d been away for more than a year. He’d been busy, travelled the world and seen amazing places and met extraordinary people but he’d missed DC, or more specifically, missed the White House press room more than he could explain. He dialled Katie’s number as he waited for a taxi.

“Hey Katie,” Danny said.
“Do my ears deceive me?” Katie replied gleefully, “could it be the one and only Daniel Concannon?”
“Yours truly,” Danny replied with a smile.
“Are back in the country?” She asked.
“Yeah, just landed,” he said, sounding tired.
“We just finished up, do you want to meet us?” She asked.
“Uhm, yeah sure, I can meet you there,” he replied, trying to sound normal.
“But we can also meet at the office, I mean I always have paperwork…” her voice trailed off.
“No, it's fine. I’ll meet you guys there,” he added quickly and hung up the phone after saying goodbye.
He gave the taxi driver the address and silently berated himself. She had given him a reason to visit the White House, but he wasn’t sure it would be worth the relentless teasing he would have to endure from her if he’d taken her up on her offer. Katie was his closest confidant at the White House and was probably the only one who knew the real reason why he left.
The taxi pulled up at the familiar bar, and he paid and left, carrying his old and worn-out travel bag. He entered the bar and couldn’t help but smile. It was like walking back in time. This bar was noteworthy for many reasons. Its regulars were White House staffers, politicians and journalists. Somehow they all seemed to be able to share this haven and not argue, too much at least, about work. There was no music playing, and the surroundings were plain, but the dim lighting and dark corners were inviting. He saw his former colleagues sitting in one corner and made his way towards them. He was greeted with cheers and hugs, and he sat next to Katie and immediately was handed a beer.  For a while he just sat and listened, simply enjoying being around these people again. Suddenly a conversation to his right grabbed his attention.
“And as I told my editor, The Secret Service "doesn't comment on procedure," and they refuse to comment about virtually anything,” a young looking reported Danny didn’t know the name of, said.
“So are you dumping the story?” Steve said.
“No, I’m not ready to. I mean, there’s a story here. The press secretary has secret service protection, and they refuse to tell us why? I’m getting to the bottom of it,” the young reporter said, a bit too smugly for Danny’s liking.
“C.J. has secret service protection?” Danny asked, speaking louder than he would have cared for.
The young reporter turned towards him and the colour drained from his face as he stared back at Danny. Although Danny was no longer a part of the White House press corps. he was well respected and well known.
“I haven’t heard anything about that,” Danny added looking at Katie.
“It’s floating around. Either she’s got protection, or she’s seeing a secret service agent,” Katie replied looking intently at Danny.
“Why do you think there’s a story,” Danny asked the young reported, ignoring Katie.
“I have a source that tells me C.J. Cregg has been escorted by secret service everywhere she goes for the last two weeks, and I know for a fact there has been an increase in the agents following the senior staff and the president lately. In the trip to Helsinki, I heard her admonish a secret service agent…” he abruptly stopped speaking as he saw the glare Katie was giving him.
“Come with me,” she said, grabbing Danny’s arm and leading him towards the bar.
“Ok, listen. Before you get all high and mighty, just remember, you left. You left, and you’re not in the inner circle anymore. I know it sucks hearing this, but this was your choice. You know my opinion. Now, about this secret service business. A few weeks ago she made comments about the schoolgirl burning in Saudi Arabia. She was being, well C.J., and I’m guessing that’s what the added security is about. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Katie finished, her hand still on his arm.
Danny’s head was reeling. She had secret service protection? Was she being threatened? Right now, all the reasons to leave seemed so incredibly insignificant.
“I need to see her,” he said, shrugging Katie’s hand off his arm.
“That’s not a good idea,” she said calmly.
“I don’t care if you don’t think it’s a good idea, I want to... I need to see her,” he said defiantly.
“No,” Katie replied assertively.
“It’s not your say Katie,” Danny said as he made to walk past her.
“Danny…” her tone made him stop, “she’s just now starting to be happy again. Don’t ruin it.”
Danny felt like she’d punched him.
“I’m sorry, but nothing good comes from you seeing her. It will only upset her… You left Danny,” she repeated, and he turned and sat next to her at the bar.
“You know why I had to leave,” he said quietly.
“I know why you thought you had to leave,” she said back.
“Katie…” Danny began.
“No Danny. I know what you’re going to say and frankly, I call bullshit. You had the opportunity to give the two of you a go, and you refused. You said that being a reporter was more important — being a White House reporter was a part of your identity. And then what do you do? You leave. Danny, you left, and you don’t get to come back here a year later and interfere in her life. I won’t allow it. You had your chance, and you blew it. Maybe the others don’t notice, but I saw how she was… I know that after she found out you’d left she slept in her office for days,” Katie finished, looking him intently in the eye.
“And how, exactly, do you know that?” Danny retorted angrily
“Danny,” she warned.
“What’s she been saying to you? I thought you never talked about work?” He said with an unfamiliar mockery in his voice, which she saw through immediately.
“Please, don’t even begin…” Katie said with contempt.
“I…” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I just, I had to get away. I’m not saying I’m proud of it, but I couldn’t stay anymore,” he said remorsefully.
Katie looked at him, and the edge of her anger seemed to wear off.
“Can you just tell me. Is she… Is she well?” He added, his voice croaking.
Katie took a while deciding whether or not to respond.
“She’s got some protection,” she said vaguely, “but she seems happy… Please don’t ruin that for her. Not when nothing’s changed,” she finished, putting her hand on his.
“I won’t,” Danny replied.
He ordered them drinks, and they sat in silence.
“I noticed…” Danny said suddenly.
“Noticed what?” Katie asked.
“That she was happy again,” he replied softly, “I still watch her, whenever I can.”
Katie smiled and squeezed his hand.
“It’s been a hard year for her,” she said, “but I’ve been in absolute awe watching her take everything in stride. She’s fierce and just…” Her voice trailed off with a soft sigh as she took a sip of her drink.
Danny looked at her with his eyebrows raised, a ghost of a grin on his lips. When she noticed his look, she bumped her shoulder with his.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, hiding her smile behind her glass.
Danny chuckled and finished his drink.
“I’m beat. I’m going to get going,” he said as he stood and put on his jacket, “give my love to the missus,” he said with a grin as he grabbed his bag and waved goodbye to the remaining group.
Katie bit back her retort and smiled at him.
“I will,” she called back at him coyly and laughed at his expression of amusement and slight surprise.

✥✥✥✥

Katie rummaged for her keys as she stood in front of the entrance. Shivering slightly she finally found them and quickly opened the door. The sound of smooth jazz and the smell of baking greeted her, and she beamed as she walked into the warm apartment. She put her bag on a chair and walked into the living room.
“Hey sweety,” she said as she walked towards the sofa, her heart jumping slightly as it always did when this amazing woman looked at her.
“Hey, how was it. You’re home early,” Carol replied moving her legs so Katie could sit next to her.
“Yeah well, I missed you,” Katie replied and bent her head to her a kiss. She pulled Carol’s legs over hers and absentmindedly stroked her calves.
“Are you alright?” Carol asked sweetly.
“Well…” Katie paused, “Danny’s back,” she said looking intently at the other woman's face.
As she feared, Carol stiffed, and a worried look washed over her face.
Before she could say anything, Katie said, “I told him to stay away. I was a bit, harsh, to him but I told him…”
“What?” Carol asked.
“I didn’t tell him anything, well anything confidential, I just told him she was happy,” Katie said apprehensively.
She thought Carol was going to object or be mad, but then she just smiled at her.
“Thank you,” Carol beamed at her, “is that why you’re back so early,” she asked calmly.
“Yeah. I just wanted to see you,” Katie smiled at her.
“Well, I for one am glad. I made cookies,” she smiled at her.
“You’re unbelievable,” Katie laughed and pulled her up to give her another kiss.
“What?” Carol laughed between kisses, “I had the night off, and I wanted to surprise you,” she kissed her back and pulled her closer.

Katie wanted to joke about Carol being an excellent wife-material but stopped herself before she could say anything. That was a joke too close to home. Their relationship was a complete secret; you could count on one hand the number of people who knew about the two of them. They were careful and not just because of their positions at either side of the White House press room. The world wasn’t ready for an openly lesbian couple working in the White House. Their conflict of interest was nothing compared to the wave of hatred that would flood them. But they would wait. Even if that meant waiting for almost eight years.
Katie had never really been in the closet. She’d grown up in New York, liberal parents and from the moment she told her mom about her first crush in the first grade, she’d been out. She quickly realised that, unfortunately, she was one of few. Her college years were filled with bi-curious pillow-princesses, but she first experienced the lack of open-mindedness with her first serious girlfriend, Gretchen. She was completely head over heels in love and quickly brought Gretchen home to meet her parents. Gretchen was shy but endearing, and Katie let her mind wander far into the future. They’d been together for over a year when Gretchen’s parents found out, and then everything went to pieces. As it turned out, Gretchen was only ‘out’ at school. Coming from a religious and conservative background, she daren’t come out to her parents. With the threat of disowning and desist of college tuition, Gretchen broke off their relationship and transferred to a non-ivy-league school, in her home state. It was a douse of cold reality for Katie. She’d had other girlfriends but was more wary of herself, as Gretchen’s parents had not been quiet about their displeasure to the school board. She received subtle reminders to keep her personal life private, from the school. As she graduated and began working, she never hid that she was gay, but she didn’t mention it especially. She was more interested in the story she was chasing, and as she’d begun covering the White House during the last administration, she kept quiet. The world was slowly opening up, but the White House seemed to be a few steps behind.
Carol had a different story. No one in her family knew she was out and she wasn’t sure she would ever tell them. She was from a very conservative background and knew for a fact what would happen if she came out to them. She rarely went back home, and C.J. was one of the few people who knew, and she’d been very supportive from the beginning and Carol was fiercely protective of her.

It had actually been mutual admiration of C.J. that had brought the two of them together. Danny had been pining after C.J. since the campaign trail. During one night of drinking, he’d sat next to Katie, whom he’d known since she’d been an intern at the New York Times, and was one of the few of the press corp who knew she was out, and they talked about the women working at the campaign. They had a private joke that they had the same taste in women, and as could be predicted, they both liked that gangly press secretary. When Carol joined them later that evening, Katie began asking leading questions about her boss, slowly working up to her sexual preference. As C.J. was a tall, Berkeley graduate, former Emily’s-list employee and had an aura of mystery around her, both Danny and Katie felt they had a chance, in their game of make belief. Carol had sighed that she was sure that C.J. was straight, which elated Danny and piqued Katie’s interest. Carol’s subtle disappointment made Katie look at her in a different light, and slowly they became closer. At first, she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined everything as Carol seemed to regard her as nothing more than a friend, but then after they won the primary Carol grabbed Katie and kissed her hard. They’d been together ever since.

“I kind of miss him,” Carol said later that evening, as they lay together in bed.
“Danny?” Katie asked.
“Yeah,” she gave a small chuckle, “you know somehow I always imagined the two of them together. I would envision the four of us having dinner parties and even go on holidays together…” her voice trailed off, “I’m being silly.”
She looked embarrassed, but Katie moved her head from her neck so she could look at her.
“You’re not silly. You’re kind and beautiful and your friend's friend,” Katie said determinately. She knew why this was a secret longing for Carol. She lived her life half hidden, and for her, the mere idea of being able to be completely open about her life with people she loved was a day-dream more than a reality. They had a few friends who knew them as a couple, but Carol was very private and was determined never to cause C.J. any trouble, which it most certainly would if it came out in the open.

✥✥✥✥

Danny threw his bag on his cold, un-inviting bed. He was barely ever in his apartment, and he had never gotten around to leasing it out. This place was filled with memories of her. Not that she’d ever been in there, but she’d been constantly on his mind, and the last time he’d been here he’d packet his bag hurriedly and left — because of her. As he walked around the small apartment, shame washed over him as Katie’s word reverberated in his head ’She slept in her office for days… she’s finally happy.’ He had been the source of her unhappiness; he knew it. And now she was being hunted from the sounds of it. He didn’t buy Katie’s words that this was about the Saudi comments. The C.J. he knew would never agree to secret service protection. She was too stubborn, too independent, too… He sighed. He knew that if she had protection than it had been assigned to her, she’d been unable to refuse. Probably Leo, or even the president. He was now pacing around the living room. What had happened?

-------------------------

tbc.

Chapter Text

Danny got up from the bed. He was tired beyond comprehension, but he couldn’t sleep. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed a whiskey bottle and poured himself a healthy measure. He sat at his kitchen table and opened his computer. He played the last press briefing, trying to see this mysterious secret service agent. He forwarded the briefing, and when he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, he began looking at every briefing in the last couple of weeks.

He woke up a few hours later, with his face plastered on the keyboard. The still on the screen was off C.J. leaving the press room. Danny sat up and rubbed his eyes and focused on the image. The video had paused after he’d fallen asleep on the computer. C.J. was holding her folder and looking at a tall man with a look that he was very familiar with; it was a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He felt a tight knot in his stomach. Was this man the reason why she was happy again?

✥✥✥✥

Strong arms encircled her, pinning her to the bed. His breath tickled her as he whispered promises of protection into her soul. She gave a giggle that turned into a moan as he kissed her neck and stroked her breast. She longed to touch him… She moved her arm and grabbed his muscular chest. She ran her hand down his lean body and inched her fingers slowly towards his red-hot centre. As she touched his belt her hand felt something hard. She moved further and reached the icy cold steel of the handle, and her fingers recoiled away, burning.

C.J. gasped as she half fell from her bed. She was disorientated, and the dream left her chastising herself for the sheer inappropriateness of it and more than a little frustrated. She untangled from the sheets and stood up. Lately, she kept waking up before her alarm clock. At first, it had been just before it rang, but now she seemed to cut off another minute off her sleep every night. If this kept going, she’d have to forgo sleep altogether. But then she would officially become Toby, and that was more than enough to sink this entire administration.

Chuckling to herself she walked into her bathroom and turned on her shower. She stepped into the scalding hot water and closed her eyes. She couldn’t stop the images from her dream from popping up as she washed her hair. His strong arms holdi…

Stop it!

She shook her head angrily. She put in her conditioner, and his half-smile appeared in her mind's eye, and she felt her insides tingle as he chuckled and approached her…

Stop this Claudia Jean!!

What was wrong with her? She furiously tried to think about anything else. Taxes, Qumar, the president… secret service— him pushing her against the shower wall thrus…

Ok, that’s enough she thought. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. What was going on? She was behaving like a hormonal teenager. She walked into her room and began dressing. She needed to wash away the memory of his his penetrating stare as she stood in front of him in a form-fitting ball gown. The black garment bag hung on the outside of her wardrobe, teasing her. She took out a grey pantsuit. She needed to feel professional, and androgynous. A sharp-edged suit and a blue top — that’s it.

Everything had been so much easier when he annoyed her; she contemplated as her agent drove her towards the White House. He was always near her, always there. She couldn’t shake him off. The summit in Helsinki had been hectic, and he’d been annoyingly there, always there… But after a while, she found that she would look for him, and he was always there, always present. It was annoying and exhilarating at the same time.

Suddenly she remembered when she first noticed agent sunshine’s penetrating glare. It was at one of the banquets in Finland. It was late, and the President sat with the Chigorin delegation, discussing in detail the history of geopolitical borders in Europe. The senior staff had managed to slip away, and were enjoying a rare event; drinking together with nowhere to go. It was like the campaign again.

C.J. snatched an excellent bottle of vodka from one of the tables, and they sat together in an abandoned side-hall. Toby was smoking a cigar, Sam stood and babbled drunkenly about how amazing this trip was, and Josh and C.J. were giggling, whispering dares to each other to kiss the top of Toby’s head. It was all silly and relaxing, and she just loved being with these men — her guys. Just as Toby rolled his eyes and blew smoke in her face, and Josh grabbed her arm, so she fell in his lap as she made to stand up, did he walk in. He looked stern, admonishing even. His presence there broke what-ever spell had been cast around them. Josh let go of her, distancing himself from her and Toby looked vary, suspicious.

“I’ve got Flamingo,” agent Donovan said grimly into his sleeve.

“Well, since my chaperon is here, I guess it’s my curfew,” C.J. said with an edge to her voice.

She got up and left the room, furiously. Her shadow followed, of course, he did.

Her long legs couldn’t carry her away fast enough, but he was right by her side.

“There was no need to do that… There was no…” she began angrily. For a moment everything had been like before. And then he showed up, reminding everybody that she was fragile… She hated that someone, some man most likely, had put her in this position. Some twisted individual had taken away her freedom, made her a target, and she could do nothing about it. He had, tried, to chip away from her independence, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“It’s my job ma’a…”

“Oh shut up,” she cut him off. They walked past the last remaining guests, C.J. bickering the whole way and trying to make it as difficult as possible for him to follow her, sneaking behind scattered chairs and closing doors in his face. But he was always there, right by her side, seemingly unfazed. Finally, she was in front of her room, and as she turned to say one last thing to him, he interrupted her.

“I’m here to protect you… ma’am. It’s my job,” he said in a quiet voice.

She was startled by the look on his face. He was staring at her, and while his face gave nothing away, his eyes were full of emotion. Piercing into her core. She said nothing as she opened the door to her room. Before she closed the door, she looked at him once more, to see if she’d imagined it. It was still there. She held her breath as she closed the door, and heard him mutter a low announcement into his radio. She shifted, uncomfortably in the town-car as she thought about this.

✥✥

C.J. walked towards her office. Her head was still immersed in the meeting she’d just finished, but all thoughts of Richie, the War of the Roses and her brand-new Vera Wang, vanished as she noticed her guardian standing by her office. Her cheeks felt warm at the sight of him, and images from her dream popped up, as hard as she tried to banish them.

"Agent 99."

"Morning."

"I want you to tell me right now, this second, what are you people doing to

catch this guy?"

"We're doing all the things that we do."

"You know, I haven't been happy with any of your answers to any of my

questions."

"Well, you've done a pretty good job concealing your dissatisfaction so far."

"Simon…"

C.J. sat at her desk and took in what had just happened. This creep had read her email. The longer she thought about it, the worse she felt. Her personal email was on her computer. How much had he read? She felt nauseous. Her mind wandered back, to an email she’d sent more than a year ago, after too many nights at the office and way too many beers. Had this intruder seen the most vulnerable, pathetic side of her? And oh God… She was going to Simon’s gym tonight. This was going to be interesting.

✥✥

Simon left her office, trying hard to hide his grin.

"I thought you said you want to have "gin" tonight.” reverberated over and over in his head. She’d looked hopeful… or maybe he just wished she did.

He never could’ve imagined someone could enthral him, and annoy him in equal measures, like C.J. Cregg. He was assigned to her, and she acted like it was his fault! He admitted that he’d been thrilled when Ron told him of his newest assignment. He’d observed her from afar, how could he not? Being the mouthpiece of the administration, she was an obvious target for outside harassment. It didn’t really hurt, or help for that matter, that she had an old fashioned beauty and grace about her, and when she shed the unappealing professional attire she adorned daily, she looked nothing less than a movie star. He wondered whether it was a conscious choice to dress in sharp suits that hid all markings of femininity. Perhaps she needed to, being a woman in this position. Her height worked in her favour, as she could tower over lesser men. She was almost his height, he mused. That was unusual. But her looks were only part of her allure, frankly a small part of it. She had a special… something. He couldn’t put his finger on it. She was clever, and she used her wits like a cougar circles its prey. Her smile was deadly, and she wound people around her little finger with ease. He wondered how she’d become the woman she was. Because he could sense that she wore a shield that was macerated as her natural self, he caught glimpses of it, as he stood close by, guarding her. How he wanted to help her peele of the protective layers and observe her, the real her. The true Claudia Jean.  

Her name had surprised him, but when he thought about it, it really shouldn’t have. Her name was a part of her protective aura. Short, curt and professional. No curves, abstraction of womanhood.

He had slowly begun adoring her, and she despised him. But that didn’t matter. He was glad for the opportunity to be close to her, to try to really see her.

✥✥✥✥

Danny sat by the window and finished the last of his coffee. It was cold, and he grimaced as he swallowed the bitter liquid. He sat alone in the darkness, in an apartment for sale across from C.J.’s. He’d by some grace of God managed to sweet-talk the real-estate agent to lend him the keys for the day, giving a vague reason and money he didn’t really afford to lose. He’d been there for hours, sat on a hard stool, half-hidden in the shadows. This spot gave him an excellent view of the street.

He’d spent the entire day ignoring his editors, calling in favours, trying to get information from sources. He kept telling himself, or more like convincing himself, that this was just like any other story, that he would do almost anything to get the truth. He needed answers. He needed to find out what was going on, and he needed to see her.

He was just about to stand up and stretch his legs when the front door of her apartment building opened up, and an agent stepped out. She must be on her way. But no car pulled up to the house, and for a few minutes, Danny wondered if the guard had only gone outside to get some fresh air. But then he saw her. Walking next to a tall, black-clad man. They looked more like a couple taking a stroll than an agent accompanying a high ranking member of the administration. Suddenly C.J. stopped, and the tall annoyance approached her. Danny sat upright and stared at them. They were standing close together, and then C.J. closed the gap between them. Danny couldn’t watch. He got up and paced around. His heart was beating loudly, and his mind was desperately trying to stop his body from running out and getting killed by the secret service for attempting to take down one of their one.  

He returned to the window and saw the back of C.J. disappearing into her home.

This had been a colossally bad idea. He tidied up after himself and left.

At home, he noticed someone had left a brown envelope inside the evening's issue of the Washington Post. He picked it up and entered his apartment. In the envelope were copies of the pictures the stalker had taken off C.J. His source at the Treasury had sent him these, probably more out of pity than anything else. He looked at her face in the first one. She was walking to work, with a serious face and a preoccupied mind. He spread the pictures around his already packed kitchen table. He studied each one, and hot fury ran through his body. How could someone do this?

✥✥

Danny woke next morning after a short and restless sleep. He groggily took a shower and then walked into his kitchen, drying his hair. He looked at his messy table, and at the pictures of C.J. He walked towards the coffee maker and was pouring water into the container when he glanced a look at the picture nearest him. He was so preoccupied with what he was seeing that he didn’t notice that he was pouring the water on top of the machine, not the container.

“Fuck,” he said as he began drying up the water. He hastily cleaned the soaking table and dried his hands as he walked towards the table and picked up the picture he’d been looking at. It was off C.J. in front of her house, and something was odd. He’d spent hours watching that street, and the angle was peculiar. For someone to take this picture, they would have to stand very close to her. It was not taken with a telegraphic lens; he was almost certain of it. She would have noticed someone standing in front of her house taking a picture of her. Right? He needed to find out when this picture had been taken. He scrolled through the tapings of C.J.’s briefings, finally finding the same outfit as in the picture. He noted the date and hurriedly got dressed and left. He needed answers.

✥✥

He tried to be as surreptitious as he could as he walked in front of C.J.’s house. He was trying to remember the exact angle of the picture, without holding it out. It was way too dangerous for him to be there, but he looked around and figured that the only way for someone to take this picture was from inside the building across from C.J.’s. He walked to the entrance and rang the doorbell of the apartment adjacent. An elderly woman answered.

“Yes?” She said looking at Danny.

“Hello there. My name is Daniel Concannon, and I’m from the Washington Post,” he paused, waiting for her reaction. When she gave a small ‘oh,’ and a smile he continued, “I’m writing a story about break-ins in the nearby area, and I was wondering if I could talk to you for a little while about the sense of security in this neighbourhood?”

“Why, yes of course. Come on in, young man,” She opened the door to let him in and shuffled into the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a smile and followed her into the house.

“Would you like some coffee, Daniel?” The old woman smiled at him.

“Yes thank you, but please don’t go to any bother for me,” Danny followed her into the kitchen.

“Oh it’s no bother dear, come sit down.” She ushered him to sit and began filling the table in front of him with biscuits and cakes. Danny asked her generic questions about the neighbourhood and let her take her time answering. She would wander off with her answers, talking about her children and her late husband. Danny smiled and listened. He had a way of making people talk, and his main tool was to listen with a kind face.

“Are you married, Daniel?” She asked him, looking at his hand for a ring.

“No, I am not,” Danny smiled at the woman, knowing where this was going.

"You know, you should meet my granddaughter, Emily. She is such a lovely girl. Works in finance,” she said smiling.

“Would you say this was a safe neighbourhood? Do the people look out for one another?” He asked, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Yes, I would say so. Some so many important people live here, you know Daniel. And I must say since the new security addition for the building I must say I feel very safe,” she smiled and filled his cup for the third time.

“What security additions?” Danny asked, trying to keep his calm.

“The one from the building society. You know they came and tested all my windows and locks and even connected my new television set, my darling Emily gave me. He was such a gentleman, but he was a bit too stern looking for my Emily. I think she would like someone more like you,” she said, giving him a small wink and putting another slice of lemon cake on his plate.

“Can you tell me more about this?” Danny asked, forcing himself to eat more and smiling kindly at her.

“Not much to tell really. He came here and told me they needed to go over the security precautions for the building, and he came and looked at all my locks and windows. He even fixed the broken latch on the window in the sitting room,” she said.

This sounded very odd to Danny. His mind was going a mile a minute and as he thought of a question to ask without making her suspicious.

“Oh, the latch was broken?” He asked.

“Yes, I suppose so. He showed me the broken piece and then he offered to fix it for me. Such a dear, but he didn’t want anything to eat or drink,” she sighed and looked happily at Danny’s, yet again, empty plate.

“Could you show me the rest of the house?” Danny asked and smiled at her yet again, “You have such a lovely home,” he added.

She stood up and began showing him around. She led him towards the picture frames, pulling the pictures of her grand-daughter out and showing him. He smiled politely, and finally, she showed him the sitting room. And there it was. The exact angle of the picture of C.J. His heart beat faster as he looked out the window.

“Is that the window he fixed?” Danny walked towards it and looked outside, seeing C.J.’s door clearly.

“Why, yes it is,” she sounded a little confused.

He didn’t want to alarm this kind woman, so he turned towards her and smiled again.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked her. She was looking at the window and at Danny in turn.

“Yes, it’s just a bit odd,” she gave a small chuckle, “maybe it’s my mind playing tricks, but he looked outside my window the exactly the same way you just did, dear.”

“Well, perhaps he has the same horticulturist tendencies as I do,” Danny said, covering his mistake.

“I’m sorry?” She looked at him confused.

“Your hydrangeas are looking lovely,” he added quickly.

“Oh, my hyd…,” she laughed, “yes, they are aren’t they?” She continued laughing and walked towards the window.

She pointed out all her different flowers, and Danny smiled and nodded, stealing glances at C.J.’s building.

“Well, will you look at the time. I’m sorry, but I need to get going. Thank you so much for all your help,” Danny said and held her hand as he talked to her.

“Oh, not at all. Let me give you a few cookies for the road. You look hungry.” She said and walked back into the kitchen.

Danny made sure to stay in the same place, not daring to peek out the window again. He took the cookies and left the house. He smiled at her as she waved him from the window and he walked purposefully towards his car.

---------------------------------------------------

tbc.

Chapter Text

C.J. walked towards her office. Her entire body ached from the heals she had decided to wear this morning, but being as tall as Simon had made it worth it. Although she had felt rather silly standing next to the president and Toby after this morning’s Senior Staff. Her height had been the bane of her existence since she first towered over other children in kindergarten, but she could use it as well. Men got unruly when women towered over them. She needed all the weapons in her arsenal after yesterday’s fuck-up. After she had stumbled in embarrassment into her apartment, she'd rushed into her bedroom, resting her head on the bedroom door, muttering “Idiot! Idiot!” as she banged her head on the cold surface.

What had she been thinking?! She’d tried to kiss him! What was wrong with her? He’d messed with her head, with his constant ‘yes ma’am, no ma’am’ and his constant… presentness. He was always there, invading her consciousness by being handsome and tall… Oh, so tall. And she’d tried to kiss him. She had banged her head again on the cold door, harder this time, only to be startled by the light knock on her door.
“Are you ok, ma’am?” Her in-house agent had asked.
“Yeah…” She'd said croakily, “just fantastic.”

C.J. sighed at the memory. She had managed to not speak with him the entire day, and hopefully, she would be able to avoid him entirely. As she approached the familiar corridor that led to her office, she saw the very familiar tall figure lurking inside her office. Oh, God. I cannot deal with him now, not when I only want to take these damned shoes off and massage my feet. She turned on the spot and walked towards Toby’s office.

“Hey,” she said as she stood in the doorway.

“What do you want,” Toby barked.

“Well, nice to see you too,” she said with a raised eyebrow as she entered his office.

“We literally just saw each other,” Toby said, enunciating every word clearly.

“What can I say, I missed your shiny head,” C.J. quipped.

“C.J!” He warned.

“What?”

“I want to finish this,” he said, gesturing the notepad in his hands, “then I want to leave. Preferably before midnight.”

“I’m not stopping you,” C.J. said as she sat down on his couch, taking off her shoes. Toby observed her as she began kneading her toes and sighed, knowing he wouldn't get much done with her in his office.

“Why do you wear those?” Toby asked her after a long pause.

“My legs look great in them,” C.J. teased.

“Your legs always look great,” Toby replied, taking his time to look at her long legs. C.J. tried to suppress her smile. This was a game of chicken, and she was not about to turn away first.

“Well, in these they look better,” she said.

“They actually don’t,” Toby said simply, looking her in the eyes now. “You only think they do.”

“Is that so?” C.J. replied, staring at him.

“I know you like to wear these," he pointed to the pair of shoes on the floor, "whenever you want to impress,” Toby continued.

He knew her too well, she thought, trying to keep an unreadable face. Toby dropped the notebook onto the table and stood up with a groan. He sauntered to the other side of his desk and sat on the edge, looking at C.J. as she massaged her foot.

“No, impress isn’t the right word,” Toby corrected himself. “These are your V.P. shoes,” he said with a smirk.

“They are not!” C.J. exclaimed. Great, game over.

“These are the shoes you wear when you want to tower over the already tall,” Toby sighed dramatically. “And never mind us mere mortals down here on the ground.” C.J. couldn’t keep it together longer and burst out laughing.

“Ouch,” Toby said with his hand covering his heart.

“You never seem to mind,” C.J. said as her laughter died out.

“You could wear stilts around me C.J., and I wouldn’t care,” Toby said.

C.J. smiled. He really could always make her feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she said softly.

“Do you want to stay on my couch?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, tough luck, he said, pulling her up.

“Toby!” she yelled.

“I need to work,” he said as he pushed her out of his office. He picked up her discarded shoes and pushed them roughly into C.J. arms.

“Go deal with your tall problem,” he said with a small grimace.

“Come on, Toby,” C.J. said exasperatedly.

“Am I wrong?” he asked daringly. They stared at each other, and C.J. refused to look away.

“Uhm…” came Bonnie’s voice from behind C.J. “Toby?” she asked nervously.

“It’s not about that,” C.J. said through gritted teeth. Toby scoffed.

“I just like these shoes,” she said and turned around and strutted away, holding her shoes, leaving Toby shaking his head and Bonnie looking utterly confused.

C.J. was deep in thought when she walked into her office. Toby had completely seen through her, and she hated it. She threw the uncomfortable shoes on her sofa as she neared her desk.

“Hi there,” said a familiar voice from behind her. She gasped and walked into her desk, stubbing her toe harshly.

“Why did you do that?!” she exclaimed.

“Do what?” Simon asked, innocently.

“Stand there, lurking in the darkness,” C.J. said annoyed.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asked her, completely ignoring her comment.

She stood and watched her desk, entirely at a loss for what she had been planning to do.

“Yes,” she finally said. “I won’t get anything more done today.”

She turned around to look for her bag, and as she turned back to Simon, he held out her coat for her.

“Thank you,” she said softly, as he helped her put it on, gently brushing his fingers on the base of her neck as he straightened the collar of her coat.

“Your welcome,” he said with a fiery look that made her pleased she wasn’t still wearing those damned shoes.

“Shall we get going?” he asked.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she sighed, bending down to pick up her shoes. She didn’t bother putting them on but held them in one hand as she walked behind Simon.

She sat in the car, and her thoughts swiveled inside her head. They were going to New York tomorrow, and as nothing seemed to be happening in the investigation of her stalker, he was most likely going as well. The thought burned her. Today she had managed to keep busy and ignore him as best she could, but in New York, he would be a constant presence, like an orbiting moon. She didn’t trust herself around him. He made her head cloudy. She guessed that was his job, but somehow he seemed to be more present than the other agents. When she left the press room, she could feel him behind her, like he radiated strength and security, just like before in her office, and she hated it, and she loved it. She didn’t want to be taken care of, but she felt like she didn’t have a choice. She turned to her side and watched out the car window as they sped towards her home.

✥✥✥✥ 

Later that night

Simon stood and observed his bedroom. The bed was neatly made, military style, and the room was free of clutter. Very few photos and personal items. He was still an army guy although he was no longer in service. In fact, it had been quite a while since he served. He wondered if it was finally time to settle in, truly for the long haul. He wondered if being around her had this effect on him. He smirked at the mirror as he thought about the night before, certainly not for the first time that day. She’d tried to kiss him... His heart beat a little faster at the thought of it. He’d kindly turned her down, but if they’d been truly alone, not with agents in front of them and following by car, he would have grabbed her and kissed her until she was breathless. Today she had avoided him, but he could still smell her perfume from their close proximity as he held her coat for her. Somehow she smelled excactly like he’d imagined; like rain in the spring and freshly sprung flowers. How he longed to hold her close and breath in her scent. He wondered if it was just her perfume or a mixture with her shampoo or some other decadent scent women adorned their bodies with. He looked around his neat but impersonal room and imagined her belongings mixed with his scarce ones. The thought made him smile.

✥✥✥✥ 

The next day

Carol sat at her desk, typing. She’d arrived early, or even earlier than usual, much to Katie’s chagrin. Today was New York and Carol needed to prepare C.J. schedule. She liked to be hyper-prepared, and she knew that C.J. had come to rely on it. In order for C.J. to be most effective at her job, she needed everything filed and organized to a particular system. The two of them had developed a shorthand that made it almost unnecessary to speak. Carol knew precisely what C.J. needed and tried to know before she did. The senior assistance’s all had their own method to this madness. Bonnie and Ginger delegated assignments between the two of them and ran a tight ship with the interns and assistance’s; Donna seemed to do about half of the work and got none of the praise — but that’s what you did when you were utterly and absolutely in love with your boss. And then it was her. Carol and C.J. probably had the closest assistant-senior staffer relationship, excluding the unhealthy bond between Josh and Donna. She was in no way judging Donna, maybe she was judging Josh a little, but their relationship was in no way healthy for either of them. Josh had a girlfriend, but that only seemed to egg Donna on, or at least it in no way seemed to make her back off a little. But Carol’s and C.J.’s closeness was based in mutual respect and a great affection for each other, and ok maybe a little attraction from Carol’s side - but completely harmless. In fact, it was hard to be around C.J. and not be drawn towards her. Carol couldn’t really explain it, but something about C.J. was captivating. She was beautiful and had a great body (good God those legs), but that wasn’t what drew you in. Something pure and real was deeply rooted in her core, and it was so enticing that you just wanted to know more, to get more from her. But because of that, Carol had to protect her. She was the guardian of her haven, and she needed to keep people away, lest they drink her up. Carol had hypothesized that that’s why she shortened her name to C.J. because otherwise, people would use up her name. It was one of her self-preservation mechanisms. She also dressed more masculine than was natural to her; broad shoulders and straight legs, which then became a stark contradiction whenever she dressed up for a formal event. Carol noticed the look some gave C.J. when she walked down the bullpen in a flowing gown that seemed to be painted on her — she wouldn’t quite say the looks were leering but almost. She noticed, for example, hunger in Toby’s eyes but she also knew that C.J. liked it. Carol tried to schedule her days so that C.J. had a moment to breathe every day. But she did this without C.J.’s knowledge, because if she knew she would work through her breaks. These were tiny moments, where she delayed a phone call or needed to copy something again.

No one got past Carols’ defenses. Well, except Danny. His quiet calmness and boyish charm melted away Carol’s protectiveness. Now, no one came past her defenses. Not even the tall secret service agent, although she could tell he wanted to. He had succumbed to C.J.’s draw as most did. Although he seemed to be fighting it, she noticed him watching C.J.’s office as he appeared to be debating with himself in silence. He always knew where C.J. was and seemed never to grow tired of simply standing guard. Perhaps they were the same? Two people who longed to protect her at whatever cost. Carol suspected that C.J. wouldn’t mind him protecting her.

Carol walked into C.J.’s office and put files on her desk and arranged memos in a neat order by her computer screen. As she carefully pulled a file from the middle to the top, her hand accidentally brushed against the mouse. At once the bright light of the desktop beamed at her, showing an open application on the new computer screen, that had been brought in after the old one was taking as evidence. That’s peculiar, Carol thought. C.J. always turns off her computer. She had even returned from her car one time, just to turn off her computer. This bothered Carol. She couldn’t really put her finger on it why this bothered her so much, but the thought was pushed from her mind as she heard the phone ringing. Quickly she turned off the screen and walked to her desk to answer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tbc.

Chapter Text

Danny hit ignore on his phone for the umpteenth time that morning. It was his editor calling, again, but he was ignoring him. He had meant to take a few personal days, but somehow, he didn’t find the time to do it. Danny hardly slept anymore. Since he had visited C.J.’s neighbour, he had barely left his laptop. He had gone deep in his research of C.J.’s stalker, but to be honest, he had spent about half his time finding out more information about agent Donovan. All he’d found out was his name and a very rough outlining of his time with the secret service. That alone bothered him, almost as much as the fact that C.J. was in danger. Danny had his ways of getting information, but the lack of information was suspicious in his mind. He tried to convince himself that this was what bothered him, not the fact that this tall secret service agent was making her happy, whatever that meant. He stood up from the kitchen table and stretched as he turned up the volume on the T.V. His living room filled with the sound of laughter.

“I meant to say ‘unavoidable.’ The delay was unavoidable. The President will make a short visit at City Hall and be in his seat at 7:30,” C.J. said from Danny’s old tube T.V. Good God, she is beautiful, and she looks like herself… Happy. There was no other way to describe her, Danny thought, and he chuckled as C.J. said: “The play is nineteen hours long.”

It physically hurt seeing her, now that they were in the same city. He missed being close to her every day, following her back to her office. Hearing her joke with his former colleagues forced him to recall their last days together, and he had spent the entire year trying to avoid thinking about it. He was a coward —and he knew it.

It had been after the flight to Portland. He’d spent his time there teasing her, testing the waters after declining the editor’s position. He’d been back at the White House typing away at his computer when he noticed C.J. standing in the dark press room. When she saw him watching her, she turned around to leave. He jumped up and ran to her.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi,” she looked at him, and he noticed she looked like she might have been crying.

“Look, I’m sorry about before…” Danny began as he slowly walked towards her.

“Don’t be. It was very you…” She stopped abruptly, and he saw tears forming in her beautiful eyes.

“C.J.,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion, as she stood by the door.

“I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry — I should go,” she said and turned around.

“Please stay,” Danny whispered, stretching out his hand. C.J. stopped, and Danny closed the
distance between them, pulled her towards him, and kissed her deeply. She melted into his embrace, giving a soft moan as she pulled him closer. And suddenly she pushed him away.

“No… Goddamit, we can’t do this,” she said exasperatedly, putting her arm across her chest in a protective manner

“I know,” he said sadly, “I’m sorry about the…” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I,” her voice broke off, “I can’t do this Danny,” she said as she turned around, trying to hide her tears.

He watched her walk away from him, and his heart broke in two. When he’d finally gone home, he was feeling reckless and hurt. He wrote an email to a colleague stationed abroad, who was always trying to get him into foreign correspondent. He couldn’t imagine seeing her in the morning, looking professional and sad; he needed to leave. After a phone call from his colleague, he hastily packed his bag and rummaged for his passport. He would leave the next evening. He had just enough time to deal with his editors.
And that was it. He’d left.

The sound of C.J. deflecting a question pulled Danny back into reality. “Yeah, there’s movement. It’s close.”

“How close?” Danny heard Katie ask.

“Look at the colour of Josh Lyman’s hair,” C.J. quipped back. Danny stared at her and then made up his mind. The lack of information was driving him mad, and C.J. was going to New York today. He needed to go to the White House, needed to get more information. He needed to see her.

✥✥✥✥

C.J. left the press room and walked towards her office. She had made up her mind as she woke up, drenched in sweat after last nights latest trip down the sinful dream-mind of one Claudia Jean Cregg. She had woken up frustrated with her hand between her legs. After a steamy shower, she regained her senses and decided she could no longer have him around her. She would demand that he stay away from New York; otherwise, the temptation of getting a hotel room in a seedy part of town was surely going to be the end of her. As she turned to the corridor that led to her office, she noticed him rough-housing with a young man.

Of course, he is wonderful with kids, C.J. thought as she made sure Carol would give young Anthony a keychain, just what my ovaries needed to hear. He followed her to her office, and she just wanted to turn around and… well, it was good that she was making him stay behind in D.C., she mused as her gaze was drawn to his neck.

"Listen. I was thinking there’s really no reason for you to make the trip to New York."

"Yeah?"

"I’m gonna be traveling with the President the whole time."

"Can I say something?"

"Sure."

"I’m not allowed to date a protectee."

"Who’s trying to date you?"

"I’m not allowed to kiss a protectee."

"Who’s trying to kiss you?"

"You did."

"No, I didn’t."

"C.J., I’m trusted with a serious job."

"Aren’t you not allowed to call a protectee by their first name?"

"Yes, ma’am. I’m gonna take Anthony home."

"There’s really no reason for you to come to New York."

"See you on the plane."

Well, that went well, C.J. sighed as she stood at her desk and watched Simon leave her office. She’d been mean, she knew it. But she didn’t like feeling like this; like she was unable to control herself around him. After Danny left, she’d promised herself to take care of her heart. She let her guard down with him, and it seemed like she was doing the exact same thing with Simon. What was wrong with her?

✥✥✥✥

Danny stood in his old haunts and breathed in deeply. How he’d missed this. He looked down at his visitor’s badge, with disdain. He didn’t belong here anymore, at least according to this badge. He left it all behind, and now someone was hunting her. He let her down. He was keeping his head down, which was easy as most of the press were going to New York to cover the president's trip. He saw his reflection on one of the windows and thought he probably should have put a little bit more effort into his appearance before arriving. His hair was unruly, he had bags under his eyes, and even he noticed the slight manic glint in his eyes. But that didn’t matter; he had to warn her. He left the press room and immediately bumped into Josh.

“Danny?” Josh exclaimed.

“Hey, man,” Danny greeted him back, trying to sound like himself. He desperately needed coffee.

“I didn’t know you were in town?” Josh said, jovially.

“Yeah, just lay-over you know,” Danny said, with a good imitation of his old self.

“How you been buddy, do you have time for a quick catch-up?” Josh asked.
Danny saw an opportunity and agreed, “sure, I would love that.” They walked towards his office, Danny looking around, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Josh noticed this and smirked.

“I think she’s getting ready for the flight,” he said knowingly.

“Uh, what?” Danny said as he sat down.

“C.J.,” Josh said, looking his friend in the eye.

“Oh, yeah, a bit obvious?” Danny gave a, calculated, sheepish smile. He hated trying to play his friend, but he just had to get more information, and right now, Josh was his best source.

“Yeah, just a bit,” Josh grinned.

“Well, I heard about the security detail, and well you know… I just care, that’s all,” Danny said.

“I get it, man…” Josh said, “just so you know, they’re going to catch the guy, and until then, she’s safe.”

“You know, they’re going to catch the guy,” Josh said after Danny didn’t respond to his ramble about the Welfare Bill. They sat in Josh’s messy office, Donna having left a minute ago after bringing them coffee.

“What?” Danny said, looking up at Josh.

“They’re going to catch the guy, the psycho,” Josh reassured.

“Oh,” Danny replied.

“No offence, Danny,” Josh grimaced, “But you look terrible.”

Danny chuckled, “That’s life in a suitcase for ya’,” he said.

“You sure that’s all?” Josh asked.

“I…” Danny sighed, “I just feel,” he looked up at his friend. He and Josh had both moved to D.C. around the same time and quickly became friends. Danny had been there when Josh met Mandy and had seen him through the first, of the several break-ups to come. Josh was his friend, but he needed answers.

“I actually came back when I heard,” Danny lied easily, “You know, about her.” As he had expected, Josh looked sympathetically, albeit there was a hint of pity in his gaze.

“You know how I feel about her,” Danny continued, “And the feeling of helplessness does not exactly help,” he finished gesturing his appearance.

“Buddy,” Josh began, but Danny cut him off.

“I know,” Danny said, “It’s pathetic. I can’t do anything; I know that. I’m just scared… About her.”

“I’m going to see what I can find out,” Josh said seriously, “But Danny I swear if even an inkling of this appears…”

“No, of course not,” Danny said, “Off the record — completely.”

Josh looked at him as he dialed a number. He spoke in hushed tones to the person on the other line, nodding and muttering thanks before he hung up.

✥✥✥✥

Danny walked out of Josh’s office, deep in thought. Something didn’t add up. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt it desperately in his heart that C.J. shouldn’t go to New York. He quickly made up his mind and waltzed towards her office. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice Katie, who was hurriedly walking towards him, looking grim.

“What are you doing here?” She said in a carrying whisper.

“Hi, what… What do you mean?” He said, feigning innocence.

“What are you doing here?” She repeated seriously.

“Look, I just need to talk to her…” Danny began.

“You need to leave!” Katie said, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Katie, you don’t understand, I just need to see her…” Danny tried.

“Are you out of your mind? You promised you’d stay away, Danny!” Katie said, raising her voice.

“Katie…” He tried again, getting frustrated.

“No, Danny!” Katie said, almost yelling now.

“Calm down, I just need to,” Danny was having trouble focusing, the lack of sleep these past days finally sneaking upon him.

“No, Daniel, I will not calm down,” she grabbed his arm and began dragging him away from C.J.’s office. A small crowd of people had begun looking out of their designated workspaces. Danny yanked back his arm and made to turn back.

“Katie please, I just need…” Danny began.

“You need what?” Katie interjected.

“I need to warn her!” Danny blurted out, much too loudly, “she can’t go to New York, she just… can’t.” The crowd of people was getting bigger, and Danny rubbed his eyes, trying to find a semblance of inner focus.

“Danny?” A voice from the group of people behind him made him turn around so fast he almost fell.

There she stood, dressed in a black, floor-length dress, clutching her coat around her, looking perplexed.

“C.J.” was all he could muster. How could he have forgotten how beautiful she was? She was breathtaking, and he lost his train of thought. And then he saw him. Lurking behind her, staring at him — that tall bastard. He felt Katie standing behind him, pulling hard on his sleeve.

“Let’s go, Danny, now!” She whispered in his ear.

“No,” Danny finally said, pulling his sleeve back.

“C.J. I, I… I need you,” he stopped, “— I need to talk to you,” he corrected himself. He noticed a man, presumably a secret service agent, approaching him.

“Danny, I…” C.J. stared at him at a complete loss for words. Danny noticed Carol standing next to her, and was startled to see her staring daggers at him.

“You need to get going,” Carol said to C.J., not taking her eyes off him. Danny tried to take a step closer to C.J. but felt someone holding him back.

“No, Danny,” Katie said, pulling him backwards, eyeing the approaching secret service agent.

✥✥✥✥

Carol guided the confused looking C.J. into her office.

“Carol, what the hell is going on? Why is Danny out there, and looking like shit?” C.J. asked.

“You don’t need to worry about that ma’am,” Carol said.

“When did he get back?” C.J. asked curiously, although she tried to sound casual.

“He’s not,” Carol replied quickly, “Danny’s been working a lot, he’s been under a lot of
pressure lately. I think he just needs some time off.” C.J. looked at her, not really buying the excuse.

“You need to get going,” Carol said, handing her a thin folder, “and Sam wanted to meet you before you took off.” C.J. looked intently at her assistant and then begrudgingly looked at the files. She looked up when the door opened and noticed the way Carol relaxed when Simon entered.

He looked a little stunned as he saw her standing there, dressed in the Vera Wang. Carol tried to hide her smile as she left the office.

“Two minutes,” she called over her shoulder as she left.
“Well, I need to get going,” C.J. said, after an awkward silence. At the sound of her voice, Simon seemed to snap back.

“Yes,” he paused, “you look… great. I mean, gorgeous,” he said and immediately seemed to regret his words.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha…”

“Thank you,” C.J. interrupted him. She felt a blush creeping up her chest, and she had to fight the impulse to grin like an idiot. They stared at each other for, until they heard Carol knocking on the office door frame.

“Sam’s waiting for you,” she said, failing terribly to hide her Chesire grin.

“I’m coming,” C.J. said, still looking at Simon. She smiled shyly and grabbed her coat and folder and left her office.

✥✥✥✥

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Katie said, now yelling at Danny as she pulled him out the hallway.

“Katie,” Danny began, but she cut him off.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Katie asked.

“Come on,” Danny dismissed, but he stopped in his tracks as an irate looking Carol suddenly appeared in front of them, blocking their way.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked icily, then she looked seriously at Katie, “did you know about this?”

“Of course not,” Katie said.

“Why did you come here?” Carol asked, turning her attention back to Danny. “Why today?”

“I just…” Danny began, closing his eyes as he tried to regain some of his focus, “I had to see her.”

“I thought Katie had made it perfectly clear that you should stay away from her,” Carol said harshly.

“Carol, relax,” Katie said, looking hurt.

“I’m sorry, but he cannot be here, not now,” Carol said.

“I know that,” Katie replied. She looked to her side, and her eyes went wide. “We need to leave,” she said hurriedly.

“What do you mean?” Carol asked.

“There’s a secret service agent on his way here,” Katie said alarmed.

“Come here,” Carol said, grabbing Danny’s arm and pushing open the door next to her. She dragged Danny inside, Katie hurrying in after them closing the door hastily.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tbc.

Chapter Text

Ron Butterfield stood in his make-shift office. He had set up shop at their base in New York, as the preparation for the President’s arrival was in full swing. He was watching a tape from the interrogation room. The suspect certainly didn’t look like a maniac, but he supposed that was to be expected. The man on the screen was weak, confused, but most surprisingly, he was terrified. Ron had been in this business for almost all his adult life and had seen his fair share of criminals, psychopaths, and terrorists, but this poor photographer didn’t seem to fit the bill. A sharp knock on his door sounded.

“Enter!” Ron called. The head investigator in Miss Cregg’s stalker case, Justin Boyer, walked into his office.

“Well?” Ron asked.

“It’s the same thing, over and over,” Boyer said, sounding annoyed.

“Doesn’t that strike you odd?” Ron asked, pausing the video, staring at the image of the man.

“Not that per se…” Boyer’s voice drifted off as he too stared at the frozen image on the screen.

“What is it?” Ron looked at the other man, wondering if he was going to confirm his suspicion.

“I just think his story is so peculiar. I can’t understand why he would make that up, why he wouldn’t make up a different story —or even just keep shut and ask for a lawyer. It just doesn’t make sense.

“I see,” Ron said seriously.

“We’ve been interrogating Mr. Paji for hours. He hasn’t slept for a long time, but he still insists on the same thing, just keeps repeating the same story again and again.”

“That someone paid him to take the pictures of Ms. Cregg and leave them in a P.O. box?” Ron interjected.

“Yes. This man has no priors, studied photography, and seems not to know a whole lot about C.J., except someone wanted her pictures,” Boyer finished.

“Have you retrieved the surveillance video from the train station where the P.O. box is?” Ron asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had an inkling that something was wrong, very wrong. But he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“No, not yet. My people are on it and should return soon,” Boyer replied.

“Is there something else?” Ron asked as Boyer had a strange look on his face.

“I don’t know about you, but I believe him,” Boyer spoke quietly.

“There is something I want to run by you,” Ron said, “Close the door.”

✥✥✥✥

Carol stood in front of Danny, hands on her hips. She couldn’t believe he was here. This was such a massive clusterfuck that it was giving her a migraine. “Why did you come here, Danny?” Her voice was calm now, sadder, if anything.

“I had to see her,” Danny said lamely.

“So you keep saying,” Katie cut in.

“I understand that, but you must understand why that isn’t possible.” Carol felt cruel when she said the words, but he needed to understand.

“You make everything worse by coming back.” Danny was about to interrupt her, but she held out her hand to silence him.

“You make everything worse — for her!” At that, he deflated slightly.

“I get it,” he finally said, “But there is something strange about this stalker, I know it.”

“Please, not this again.” Katie sighed, she stood by the window, peering outside.

“When did you last sleep?” Carol asked concernedly.

“I… That’s not impor… She isn’t safe.” Danny blurted, his eyes red and his hands shaking.

Carol exchanged looks with Katie, “We should take him home,” she said, looking imploringly at Katie.

“We can’t leave, not now.” Katie shook her head slightly.

“We can’t let him go,” Carol said, pointing at Danny.

“Hey! I won’t listen to this bullshit anymo…” But Katie shushed at him loudly. 

“Someone’s coming!” The door opened, and Margaret bustled inside like only she could do.

“So it’s true,” she said as if they had all just been talking.

“Huh?” Katie turned to stare at the strange red-haired woman.

“I heard there had been a commotion at the bullpen, and someone said Danny Concannon was drunk.” She looked at Danny as if to verify whether it was true.

“I’m not drunk,” Danny bellowed.

“Will you stop,” Katie hissed at him.

“Margaret, we will take care of this,” Carol said, “You don’t need to worry.” 

“What happened?” Margaret asked, and Carol could sense danger. It would be just like Margaret to call Leo to inform him about all of this.

“Danny just heard about C.J., and was concerned about her well-being,” Carol explained.

“I see,” Margaret replied.

“As I said, there is no need for concern,” Carol continued, but Margaret continued speaking as if she hadn’t heard from Carol.

“You don’t have to worry anymore,” she said to Danny, with a small smile. “They caught the stalker.”

“What?” Carol, Katie, and Danny all said at the same time.

“I’m not supposed to know, but the call came just when the plane was about to leave, so I had to stay on the line to see if the call was connected.” She looked between all of them, before adding, “It’s not like I tried to hear it!”

“They caught the guy?” Danny asked skeptically.

“Yup,” Margaret replied cheerfully. “A photographer from Phoenix, apparently.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Danny muttered.

“See, now you can go home and relax,” Katie said consolingly. “Go, sleep!”

But to all of their surprise, Danny made a beeline for the door of the office, looking half-deranged.

“It’s not right,” he said, trying to open the door.

“Stop him,” Carol yelled, and Katie bound forward and held him tight. But he was too strong and pulled himself free. At that, both Carol and Margaret moved and pulled him back.

“Should we tie him up?” Margaret asked, sounding a little too excited at the idea.

✥✥✥✥

C.J. stood outside the Booth Theatre. She felt good, and she looked good. She felt as if something new and exciting was just around the corner. Perhaps this was something with the change of the season or hell; maybe it was just time for something good to happen to her. She clutched her shawl around her and walked towards the group of reporters. She always liked it when they were in a new setting, and everyone dressed nicely. C.J. still remembered when she first saw Danny in a tux. It had been at a fundraiser gala in Iowa, and he had looked so damned cute with his hair ruffled and his bowtie crooked… Damnit! No, she wasn’t going to do this. He wasn’t worth it. She pushed his image away from her mind, trying her best to stop wondering why he had been at the White House earlier. 

She was making small talk and joking with a few reporters when she heard someone close a car door harshly. At the same time, Simon appeared and pulled her unceremoniously away. She couldn’t believe him. 

I asked you to wait with an agent.

I wanted to get some air.

That's fine, but I asked you to wait with an agent.

Simon...

You can say to the agent, "I'd like to go outside and get some air," and he'll go with you.

I'm standing in the middle of the President's security detail. What do you think's gonna happen to me?

I don't know what's gonna happen to you. If I did, this would be easy!

Maybe if we didn't shout so much.

I have spent my adult life protecting people. You're the first person who's got me seriously thinking about switching sides.

Oh, I'm sorry you feel that way. I think I've been a treat.

Oh, yes, you have. A little Easter treat. Just for me.

You seem a little riled .

Simon closed his eyes for a moment, clearly trying to reign in his frustration, “You make me riled up, C.J. By God, everything that I’ve been doing has been to try and protect you, but you make it so hard. You make me mad!” He was talking loudly, but his rant was stopped short by his phone. He answered at once.

“Donovan.” His greeting was harsh. He listened intently at the other line, mumbling every now and then “Yes”, and “I understand. Finally, his eyebrows raised, and he looked at C.J. as he ended the call. "No, of course. Sir. I will inform her. Thank you.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“They caught the guy,” he replied simply.

“What guy?”

“They caught your stalker,” Simon said, staring her in the eyes, “It’s over.”

“It’s over?” She didn’t dare believe it.

“It is,” he said simply.

“Thank you.” C.J. felt the relief flood over her, the knot in her stomach tightening.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes were hooded, and she found herself walking closer to him, almost like she was in a trance. She reached even closer and kiss him on the cheek, ever so softly. They hesitated for a moment, but when C.J. moved slightly, he turned his head and kissed her with such ferocity that he lifted her off of the ground. His hands slid around her waist, and he held her tightly. She gasped but held his strong shoulders, pulling him towards her. She had never felt such power, longing, and hunger in one kiss. Her centre burned with desire, but then a car horn sounded nearby, and she was pulled back to earth.

She broke the kiss and gave a small giggle. Her heart was beating fast, and his presence, his ever-present presence was clouding her mind. They had finally kissed, and what a kiss it had been, and she was finally free. 

“I will see you after the show,” she said with a sultry voice as she still stood close to him.

“I need to go,” she said breathlessly. Never in her life had she wanted to skip a work event like now. “See you after the show?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, and he grabbed her in another kiss as she made to turn away from him. This time the kiss was softer, but he held her so tightly it almost hurt. The kiss ended, and he stared intently in her eyes, and she felt weak in the knees. 

“I better,” she said stupidly as she gestured vaguely back with her hand.

“See you soon,” he said confidently as he reluctantly let go of her.

They parted, and C.J. ambled back towards the theatre entrance, looking at him one last time before she turned the corner.

As she turned, she almost walked into Sam.

“Hey, C.J.!” Sam exclaimed happily as he grabbed her so she wouldn’t fall down.

“What, oh hey Sam,” C.J. replied, and she laughed as she put her hand on his shoulder to gather her balance.

“I think the show’s starting,” he said, and he offered her his arm. She smiled at him, still thinking of Simon, and took his arm, and together they walked into the theatre.

✥✥✥✥

Ron thanked the heavens that this seemingly endless show was finally over. Being out here put enormous strain on his guys, and he couldn’t shake this feeling that he ought to have realised something. It was driving him mad. He just wanted to get the president away from here. He tried to reason that it was probably just the chaos and stress of the new location that was getting to him, although that usually didn’t happen… His people were securing the perimeter, and he walked down the magnificent stairs leading to the entrance. He knew that the president would take his time leaving the building, as he always did. In these kinds of situations, he was in his element, and with the re-election coming up, he wouldn’t miss a chance to charm and disarm. He nodded to a few of the senior staff as they made their way downstairs. C.J. was hovering nearby the president, seemingly avoiding to look in his direction.

Ron walked outside and nodded the agents stationed outside. The area was filled with people; he acknowledged grudgingly. The press clamored at the front, secret service, broadcasting trucks, and a crowd of civilians. He wondered if he’d be able to convince the president that he should take the back exit. Doubtful, he bemused. One of his agents said that the president seemed to be getting ready to say goodbye to the archbishop; it was time to move. As he made to turn back inside, he noticed something in his peripheral vision. He changed direction and walked towards one of the large, black SUV's, but as soon as he approached it, a loud bang reverberated all around.

At once, total chaos and panic ensued. People began running in all directions, screaming in confusion. Ron ran towards the theatre, yelling into his radio to get to Eagle; to secure Eagle and to lock-down the theatre, when suddenly everything went black. 

tbc.

Chapter Text

Ron stirred and felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. He was lying down on the ground and could taste blood. He was confused, and the noise surrounding him made it difficult to focus. Suddenly he felt himself being turned around. A light was shined into his eyes, and he tried to sit up. At once, he was pushed down and then felt himself being hoisted up and then down again. He could hear people speaking near him but couldn’t make out the words. 

“Quick! We need to take him inside,” someone said and then he was gliding through the air. He felt nauseous and closed his eyes.

Once he opened his eyes, the noise was gone, and a bright light above him momentarily blinded him. Almost as if he’d been doused in icy water, he realised where he was and what had happened.

He sat up, too fast, and swayed where he sat. Someone tried to push him back down, but he hastily swatted them away. They had brought him inside one of the large SUV close to the theatre.

“Where’s eagle?” His voice was weak, and his mind felt clouded. A slow trickle of blood oozed down the side of his face.

“He is safe,” one of his agents reported. “The motorcade is ready. We put the building on lock-down. When you were cut off, we held off on moving eagle. He’s in a secure room,” he added.

“Bring me to him,” Ron said with as much authority as he could muster, while not really seeing clearly nor knowing the name of the agent next to him. 

“Sir—” The agent next to him hesitated, taking in his appearance. “Should you not go to the hos…”

“I’m fine,” Ron spat, cutting the agent off. Another agent appeared, and Ron sighed a relief when he saw it was Fischer, his second in command. “You stay here and keep me updated every fifteen minutes.” For a brief moment, Ron had feared his head injury was worse than he dared to admit.

“Yes sir,” Fischer replied and turned around, already commanding a team of agents through the radio.

“Let’s go!” Ron stepped down from the car but lost his balance as soon as his feet hit the ground. The agents next to him hastily grabbed his shoulders and held him upright. He was about to yank himself free and tell his men that he could walk on his own when he realised that he probably couldn’t.

 The two men supported him inside the theatre through a side entrance, and down a narrow hallway. An agent stood who stood in front of a closed door, moved aside at once to let them inside. When they entered the room, everyone looked up. Ron hastily pushed the agents who’d been supporting him away. With all his willpower, he made himself stand straight and focus on the president who rushed towards him. Leo McGarry stood next to the president, looking grim.

“Ron, what’s going on? What the hell happened to you? Was that a bomb?” The president demanded.

“Ron!” Bartlet repeated. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Mr President, we’re not sure at the moment. What matters is to get you to a secure location.” Ron said with finality that even surprised himself.

“Let’s go, now,” Ron said to his agents, and they surrounded the president and began walking quickly through a few doors, until they arrived outside, at a side-entrance.

The president seemed to be starting to argue when a black car came speeding towards them. Ron opened the door and pushed the president inside before sitting inside himself. This was eerily familiar. The car had hardly stopped to let them inside when it began driving full force almost at once. Ron and the president sat in silence, the sirens and seriousness surrounding them. Ron picked up his phone, answered and listened. After a few ‘yes’, ‘affirmative’, he hung up without saying goodbye. 

“Ron, what’s going on?” The president asked seriously but refrained from yelling, although it was a struggle for him.

“We’re not sure at the moment, sir. It seems to have been a small explosion, and so far there are no serious injuries accounted,” Ron told him, adding: “No deaths!” at the look on the president.

“Right now we need to get you to the secure location,” Ron emphasised. The president nodded, and they sat in silence as the car drove.

Ron felt dizzy as the car made a sharp turn, and he put his hand up to his head, where he’d felt the acute pain before. There he felt a large lump forming. He brought his hand down, and the president gasped.

“Ron, you’re bleeding! We need to get you to a hospital,” he said, sounding genuinely concerned. The deja-vu of this wasn’t missed by either of them.

“Mr President, I’m fine,” Ron said, and unlike last time they were in this position, the president didn’t argue.

✥✥✥✥

“What are we going to do?” Carol asked Katie quietly, eyeing Margaret, who stood in front of Danny, guarding the door.

“I don’t know,” Katie replied. She desperately wanted to hold Carol, but she shook that idea out of her mind at once. This was definitively not the place.

“Perhaps you can take him home?” Carol suggested. “Keep out of trouble?”

“I need to stay here.” Katie reached out her hand, stroking Carol’s fingers.

“Don’t!” Carol warned.

“I’m sorry,” Katie said sadly, but to her surprise, Carol rushed towards the window of the office they were inside. “Carol?”

“Something’s wrong.” Carol was staring into the office adjacent. Without saying a word, she looked around the room, making a beeline for a small TV in the corner of the room. Danny, Margaret and Katie stared at her as she turned it on and flipped through the channels.

“Carol, what are you…” Katie began but stopped speaking at once. On the screen was a reporter, clutching a microphone and speaking, but there was no sound. At the bottom of the screen was a banner which said BREAKING NEWS

“Where’s the remote?” Carol said wildly, turned around searching for it.

“Here,” Margaret said, walking towards the large table in the middle of the room. She pointed the remote at the TV and at once volume filled the room.

“We are here in front of Booth Theatre were a moment ago there was an explosion,” the reporter on the small screen said. “Where President Bartlet was attending War of the Roses. It is unclear whether anyone was hur…”

“Oh my God,” Carol gasped. The four of them stared the TV in shock. The image of smoke and discord made their brawl seem insignificant. Outside they could hear people running around, and Carol locked eyes with Katie, tears filling her eyes. “Not again,” she whispered. Katie rushed to her and engulfed her into a tight embrace, not caring who saw them.

✥✥✥✥

Toby had finally managed to get out of the hallway the secret service had closed off after the explosion. He’d been near the president, who had been whisked away in a wave of the secret service. Leo had gone shortly afterwards, and Toby was left with nervous-looking clergymen and high ranking members of the Catholic church. He’d spent the entire time avoiding talking to anyone, pacing back and forth, itching to start smoking the cigar in his jacket pocket. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw Sam.

“Hey! Finally! I’ve been out here all alone,” Sam said as he approached.

“Do you know anything?” Toby asked.

“Not really, they’re not really telling me anything,” Sam said gesturing to the agents around them. “Except they’ve secured the building, so we’re supposed to wait here until further notice.”

“Yeah…” Toby said, looking around.

“Is the president?” Sam’s voice faltered slightly.

“He’s safe,” Toby replied.

“Good.” Sam sighed. “Everything is in utter chaos outside.”

“Is someone hurt?” Toby asked.

“I don’t know. I had just stepped outside when I heard the bang. Someone pulled me inside.” Sam looked around.

“Is it possible this was a car backfiring, and this is all a massive overreaction?” Toby gazed in the direction that Sam was looking.

“No, this was an explosion,” Sam replied gravely.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Toby sighed. “What are you looking for?” He turned to Sam, who was craning his neck to look up the staircase.

“C.J,” Sam said. “Is she still upstairs? I think we ought to give a very brief statement, just you know, we’re not giving a statement at this moment, you know,” he finished turning back to face Toby.

“What do you mean?” Toby asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, just getting ahead of the press, you know, show a strong front,” Sam replied, looking at Toby strangely.

“No, I mean, why did you ask if C.J. was still upstairs?” Toby indicated up the stairs with his head.

“What are you…” Sam began.

“Wasn’t C.J. with you?” Toby could actually feel his blood pressure rising. He bound towards the closed doors to the building, trying to catch a glimpse of her outside.

“No? I thought she was with you.” Sam followed him. Toby tried to go outside, but a secret service agent stopped him from opening the door.

“No!” Toby shouted, starting to look around frantically. “She left before me, before the explosion…” He began walking quickly towards the exit.

“I have to get outside,” Toby said to the man, who stepped in front of the door menacingly.

“No one leaves,” the agent grunted.

“My name is Toby Ziegler, I’m the White House Communications Director. Let me outside!” Toby wasn’t really sure why he said this, but he would use every ounce of authority he could muster to find her.

“Toby! Wait,” Sam yelled as he followed him, “wait, Toby!”

✥✥✥✥

Ron sat and listened to a report from one of his deputies, as a paramedic was dressing his head wound. This was, of course, at the president’s insistence. The area around the theatre was being investigated, at the moment the number one worry was that this had simply been a diversion, and more attacks were imminent. However, Ron was beginning to think that was unlikely. The bomb had been a small one and not a powerful one. What was odd, was that even though the bomb had been small, it could have done much more harm then it did. The point of origin had been behind one of the news trucks, which had been empty, creating a loud bang and confusion but no harm so to speak. This placement was so peculiar that Ron couldn’t decide whether it was brilliant or simply stupid.

Shortly after they’d reached the secure location, Leo had arrived with his security detail, and he’d been on the phone since arriving.

“Yeah,” Leo said as he answered the phone yet again, “wow, wow, calm down Margeret. We’re fine. I’m going to have to call you back… What?”

At the same time, one of the agents walked purposefully to Ron, handing him a phone.

“What?” Leo repeated, raising his voice, looking incredulous. “Well, where was Josh during this? Ok, yes, yes… Goodbye, Margret,” he said pointedly and hung up on her.

“What’s going on,” the president asked a hint of a smile ghosting on his lips. “I could do with a little Margret-ism right now.”

“Mr President, Margret just told me that Danny Concannon “escaped,” he made air-quotation marks, “from the White House, from the make-shift jail the senior assistance made for him,” Leo said bemusedly.

“I wonder what Danny did to deserve the senior-assistant jail,” the president laughed, and Leo grinned back.

“Something about C.J. and him being jealous…” Leo said, looking pointedly at the president.

“Ah, I see, a deadly sin apparently,” the president chuckled. The two exchanged smirks. Ron, however, turned much too quickly, as he’d just heard the last of their conversation, leaving the paramedic with his hand in mid-air with scissors ready to cut the stitches thread that now hung from Ron’s head,

“What did you say about Mr Concannon?” he asked frantically, the cogs in his head turning violently. The two men stopped grinning at each other and looked intently at Ron.

“It was nothing Ron,” Leo said reassuringly. “My assistant, who can be a bit, well let’s just say much , just informed me that Danny Concannon, the reporter, left, well she actually used the word escaped, from the White House.”

“Did I hear you say that it was because of jealousy?” Ron asked quickly, trying to keep his composure.

“Yes?” Leo hesitated.

“Because of Ms Cregg?” Ron asked.

“What’s going on, Ron?” The president asked gently, and somewhat concernedly.

“Sir, I’ve just been informed that Ms Cregg has not been found since the explosion,” Ron said, trying to keep calm. Somehow, this felt like it was his fault. The mood in the room changed abruptly.

“Missing?” President Bartlet was ashen-faced, staring at Ron. “What do you mean by missing?”

“The theatre has been under lock-down, and she was not inside,” Ron told them.

“There’s something you’re not telling us,” Leo said shrewdly. His lined face was set in stone and Ron felt uneasy under the Chief of Staff’s gaze.

“I don’t have any basis for it,” Ron replied quietly.

“But you have a hunch?” Leo finished.

“Yes.” Ron turned to look at the president then picked up his phone and dialled. “Mr President. Marine One will arrive in t-minus,” he checked his watch. “7 minutes, taking you and Mr McGarry back to the White House. I will return to the theatre now.” At once his agents stood up and divided into two groups, the bigger group standing close to the president, the rest following Ron.

“Ron, I want updates every fifteen minutes,” the president said seriously. Ron nodded and left the room.

tbc.

Chapter Text

Toby tried with all his might to push the burly agent out of his way, but he wouldn't budge.

"Mr Ziegler, like I said, I can't let you out..." began the gatekeeping agent, but Toby cut him off.

"You have no authority over me," Toby blundered. "Let me out." As he raised his voice, the agent sighed and pushed Toby away from the door with ease, as if he were a mere bag of feathers. It was almost comical. The world was spinning, and Toby couldn't focus his thoughts.

"Toby, come here," Sam said hurriedly. Toby ignored him and ran stupidly to the door. Apparently, this was the final straw for the agent. He turned Toby around, twisting his arm behind his back and forcefully walking him further inside the hallway. He had begun to reach for his radio when Sam jumped forward.

"There's no need for that," Sam said, gesturing to the radio. It was a stare-down between the two men, and finally, the agent grunted that he'd be forced to take Toby if he tried anything, and although it was vague where he would take him, Sam knew it was nowhere Toby should be at this moment. The agent left, and Sam turned his attention to the communication director.

"Toby!" Sam's voice managed to pierce through to Toby. The older man faced Sam and noticed he was holding a phone to his ear.

"Is it C.J.?" asked Toby hopefully.

"No..." Sam was holding his hand over the receiver on his phone. "It's Josh," he explained.

"Give me the phone," Toby grunted.

Sam hesitated for a second before handing the phone over to his superior.

"Josh, what's going on?" Toby's question was both filled with anger and paralyzing fear. "Do you know anything?"

"Do I know anything?" Josh shouted into the phone, "Why do you think I'm calling you?"

"Josh..." Toby began.

"Alright," Josh conceded. "I spoke with Leo before, and it's all still unclear. As far as we know, there were no casualties, but, and I'm guessing you already know this, it's complete chaos out there."

Toby looked outside the large window of his prison. Surrounding the theatre were people running around—quite a few secret service agents, but also NYPD. The screams that had filled the atmosphere right after the explosion had subsided, although he could still hear frantic shouts now and then.

"Anything on C.J.?" Toby tried to sound stoic, but his voice betrayed him by faltering while he spoke her name. His breathing was shallow, and everything was spinning. Why was this happening? Again.

"Toby?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Toby could hear Josh's concerned voice. Or was it Sam? There was no real way of knowing who it was. Suddenly, his mind was filled with images of chaos and wailing sirens at different times. He'd been searching... Just like now.

"Josh! Didn't you hear me shouting for you? I didn't know where the hell

you..."  

Blood everywhere... Screaming. Blood on his hands, his voice hoarse from screaming for help. A lifeless body slumped to the pavement. So much blood, and then the image of Josh's mutilated body at Rosslyn turned into C.J.

"Toby?" Sam's voice sounded frightened. Toby could not stop searching... He had to find her. Then, in a split second, he was pulled from his reverie.

✥✥✥✥

Before

His fingers slid across the keyboard with skill and determination. It had been trickier than he had expected to find her personal email in this outdated piece of crap. The White House really did not take computer security seriously, he bemused. It had been easy to infect her computer with the Trojan, but he realised much too late that she had managed to hide her personal email in the clutter of her disorganised desktop. How she managed to find anything there was a mystery. Perhaps there was a method to her madness because he had not managed to find this treasure on her old computer. But now he read.  

✥✥✥✥

Ron jumped from the car as soon as it came to a halt. His head, now abnormally large due to the bandages and the swelling that was already pushing, seemingly into his brain, was slow to think. The dizziness had not yet dissipated, but that did not matter at the moment. He had to speak with Toby and Sam. He pushed through the sea of agents and saw Fischer make a beeline towards him.

"We've secured the perimeter," Fischer said with command. "There is no sign of the perpetrator."

"The bomb?" Ron asked.

"Seems to be a fairly standard IED." Fischer continued. "But we'll have to wait for forensics to..."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron interrupted. "Any casualties?"

"No," Fischer hesitated before continuing. "Sir, Miss Cregg has not been sighted yet. I..." He seemed unsure whether or not to continue.

"Stuart?"

"I just spoke with Boyer," Fischer finally said. The two men exchanged meaningful glances.

"I need to speak with Toby Ziegler and Sam Seaborn," Ron said, already walking away from his subordinate.

✥✥✥✥

Before

Emails to her niece; gym membership newsletters; messages from old friends... There was nothing of note to be found there. He scrolled further back, stopping now and then to read particular emails that piqued his interest. This was his way of getting to know her even better. He knew they were meant to be together, and this was simply his way to strengthen their bond.

 ✥✥✥✥

 Ron looked around inside the still hectic theatre; the routine flashes from the patrol cars a harsh and cold addition to the classical architecture. Most of the prominent figures from the Catholic church had congregated in one corner, as no one had yet been allowed to leave the building, but he spotted familiar faces near the grandiose staircase. Two men, one speaking on the phone, the other sitting on the bottom step with head in his hands.

"Mr Seaborn." Ron made his presence known. The younger of the two turned around, holding his hand over the receiver on the phone.

"Josh, I gotta go," Sam said, and hung up without waiting for a reply. "Is the President?"

"Secure, and en route to the White House," Ron interrupted.

"Any news?" Sam's question was hopeful, in a particular Sam Seaborn way, but his momentary hopefulness drained from his face at Ron's expression.

"What can you tell me about the relationship between Ms Cregg and Mr Concannon?" Ron asked bluntly. At his words, Toby raised his head, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What does Danny have to do with thi..." Sam began, but Toby jumped up from his respite and barked at Ron.

"Why are you focusing on Danny Concannon when you should be out there?" Toby gestured outside, his raised voice turning a few heads in their direction. "She's missing!"

"Mr Ziegler," Ron began, but was cut off again by Toby.

"I don't have time for this; you have to let your guard dogs step down and let me outside." Toby tried to walk past Ron but was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Mr Ziegler," Ron's voice was quiet. "Toby." At the sound of his first name, the communications director halted. "I have reason to believe that the person we have in custody back in D.C. is not Ms Cregg's stalker. Or at least not the sole perpetrator."

Toby looked as if he'd been doused with icy water. "What do you mea..."

"I cannot go into detail yet," Ron said, his voice almost inaudible. "But there are loose ends, and as Ms Cregg has not yet resurfaced, we must anticipate the possibility that this attack was a diversion, rather than an assassination attempt."

Sam stared at Butterfield, his mouth agape. "And you think Danny Concannon has anything to do with this?" The incredulity in his tone was clear. This whole situation was so ridiculous it was almost comical, except that it truly wasn't.

"Was Ms Cregg ever involved with Mr Concannon?" The question hung in the air.

"No, of course not," Sam replied, looking at Toby, trying to share his indignation but was surprised to see that calculated gaze he had come accustomed to in their years of working together. "What is it, Toby?"

When he didn't respond, Ron cleared his voice. "If you have any information, you must tell me. Propriety must be set aside; my only concern is getting Ms Cregg to safety."

"I don't know what happened." Toby's voice was barely louder than a whisper. "But there was, something, between them." This admission seemed to pain him greatly. "She didn't tell me anything, but I know her... They stayed late in her office when they thought no one saw, and I once saw the..." He seemed unable to continue.

"Mr Ziegler," Ron said pointedly, not so subtly telling him to continue.

"I saw them kiss," Toby said hurriedly, refusing to look at either of the men in front of him. "In the... In the press room." He added lamely.

"In the press room?" Sam repeated incredulously.

"It was late," Toby rubbed his forehead, clearly uncomfortable. "I did warn her that there was a concern she was too friendly with the pre... but I..." He sighed, inhaling deeply. "She left the pressroom upset, and shortly after that, Danny left, so I never mentioned it to her."

"You did not see any reason to inform us of this?" Ron had picked up his phone and brought it to his ear, his face solemn. "Yeah, it's me, I need you to head over to the White House," he said to the person on the other line.

"Because it was private," Toby bellowed. "Because it was Danny Concannon, for crying out loud!" Toby waved his arms around, trying to emphasise his point. "Because he's been gallivanting around Europe and Asia for months."

"Mr Concannon was seen at the White House today, upset and calling for Ms Cregg. Today's attack has all the trappings of a hurried, desperate decision," Ron said, sounding agitated. His focus was now on the phone. "When? Yeah... I see. Alright, keep me informed."

"What is it?" Toby knew he had no title to Secret Service intel, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered until C.J. was back. "You know something!"

As if broken from a trance, Ron finally looked at Toby but was silent. His grim stare was absent, clearly thinking fast. Cold dread washed over Toby as he observed the head of the President's Secret Service, seemingly lost for words. 

✥✥✥✥

Before

 There was nothing more to be had here, he thought. This whole procedure had worked like a charm—almost too easily. He was about to close the application when his eyes caught sight of a sent email without a reply. The date stated she had sent it more than a year ago. His eyes rushed from side to side as he read, his breathing becoming shallower with each word. Poisonous jealousy spread from his core, like black ink staining a white tablecloth. Her desperation, her pleading... It was obscene. Reading it left him dizzy, as if he'd been sucker-punched.

Subject: Hi

I read your byline today. Below the fold, my, my... How the mighty have fallen. Although it was a good one, but then again, yours always are.

I almost called your name today; I keep expecting to see you. To look up from the podium and see you grinning at me, waiting to challenge me, to drop an unholy question at me, or to change the subject in order to help me. You always did that, I see that now. You kept me on my toes, but more often than not, you protected me. Now I search for your face, and I see you everywhere, but you're nowhere to be seen.

Why did you leave me?

I can't do this anymore. It hurts to breathe. I feel like I'm going crazy. I miss you so much. But I hate you. For leaving me alone, for following me around, for asking me out. For kissing me. And for breaking my heart.

Please come back. I need you here. I need you.

Yours,

Claudia

 She was supposed to be his . That was clear as day to him. They were meant to be together. But he realised now that he had to accelerate his plan. And he had to make it absolutely certain that this threat would be eliminated.

tbc.

Chapter Text

Her head was throbbing madly, and everything was blurry. What the hell had happened? Where was she? C.J. tried to remember anything, but her head wouldn't stop spinning, and her tongue felt rough and fuzzy. Slowly, she moved her hand and felt cold concrete under her digits. All of a sudden, her senses seemed to kick into action, and her mind was overflowing with that evening's events.

War of the Roses; the President asking everyone which was their favourite Henry; the Welfare bill; Simon... Wrestling his little brother; putting on the black Vera Wang; Simon piercing her eyes with a penetrating stare. His lips firm against her own, his tongue slipping in and caressing hers...

Finally, she acquiesced that she was, indeed, not going blind or turning into an amnesiac. She remembered walking out of the theatre, wincing slightly as she walked down the marvellous steps in her uncomfortable shoes, looking for Toby. She was going to let him know she wouldn't fly back with them, that she'd planned to meet a friend for a late drink, and that she'd see them in the morning. It was supposed to be a surprise—a rare treat for herself. To invite Simon to celebrate her freedom—preferably at a hotel bar. Where she could be spontaneous, for once in her life, – live a little.

 What she couldn't quite figure out, though, was where she was now. She remembered walking down the steps, but after that, her memory was foggy and patchy. Deciding she was stable enough to move, she tried to push herself up. At once, her eyes seemed fixated on spinning in circles while her head tried valiantly to hold itself up, whereas her neck muscles had apparently stopped working.

Oh, holy hell. What have you gotten yourself into now, Claudia Jean?

 ✥✥✥✥

Danny was running. He'd been running for—he didn't even know how long. Never before in his life had he run that fast for that long. His lungs ached, and his legs were screaming for him to stop—to rest. But he couldn't. He had to keep going; he had to find her. Once he saw the explosion, it was as if lightning had struck him. Something was wrong, and he couldn't shake the feeling that C.J. was in danger. It was the same feeling he felt when chasing a story: the truth was just waiting to be uncovered.

Finally, he couldn't run any longer. Hunched over, he heaved, tasting blood. The busy street was loud, with passersby swerving to avoid crashing into him. He collapsed on a bench, his breath trembling and his hands shaking. He'd been calling her phone ever since he escaped from the room where Margret and Carol had been keeping him. He dialed her number again and again, but it was out of service. The shrill triad that played each time the call failed felt like ice picks in his heart. Afraid he was going to faint, he focused his breathing until a sound caught his attention. Behind him, he heard flashes from news coverage as the door to the bar behind him opened. Despite his weak legs protesting the sudden movement, he dragged himself into the bar. All the TVs hung above the bar showed coverage of the explosion.

"We are getting word that President Bartlet's motorcade has been spotted in transit. A serious-looking newscaster was saying, holding her hand up to her ear. Behind her, by some distance, was the Broadway theatre, bathed in blue and red lights.

"Patricia, this is certainly a tragic event, so soon after the attack at Rosslyn," the anchor said, with a matching grim expression, although Danny knew him and knew that he was a man who delighted in days like these. "Has there been any comment from the White House?"

"No one has come forth as of yet," Patricia replied.

"It must be said that this is highly unusual, leaving the American public completely in the dark." Asshole , Danny thought.

"It certainly is, Walter. Although it is not clear whether anyone has been let out of the theatre. Sources are saying that prominent members of the Catholic Church have been sequestered..." Good Lord, Danny sighed. His thoughts crisscrossed, jumbling over each other, making it impossible to focus.

He knew that in a situation like this, the White House would always comment in one way or another. C.J. knew that the longer the radio silence remained, the more the press would have to start guessing and filling in the blanks. Hell, during Rosslyn, there had been a noncommittal comment that the White House didn't have a comment, that there'd be a briefing later, seemingly at the same time as Josh was being pushed into the ambulance. There was never nothing. Because C.J. knew... She thought of these things…

Without thinking, he pulled out his phone and dialed, hoping against hope that he'd answer. Surprisingly, the phone only rang two times before the familiar voice spoke.

"Yeah?" Josh Lyman sounded tense.

"Hey," Danny began but couldn't really continue.

"Danny?" Josh asked before adding, "I can't tell you anything."

"That's not why..." Danny tried with all his might to organise his jumbled thoughts. "I just need to know if she's..." He was unable to finish the sentence. Because actually saying the words out loud might actualize them.

"You know we can't," Josh replied. "I can't," he added, his voice heavy with dread.

"There hasn't been a comment yet," Danny said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "From the White House. There hasn't been a comment, and I know C.J. would never let that happen. Unless..." His voice broke, and a shuddering breath escaped from his lips.

"Danny, I," Josh said, but Danny cut him off.

"I'm not writing about this, Goddammit." He was yelling now. "I just need to know if she's okay. I need to know if she's hurt and enroute to a hospital, or if she's d... I just need to know." There was a long pause before Josh sighed heavily.

"You can't tell anyone," he said. "This is off the record; I've never been more serious about anything before, okay?"

"I understand."

"Actually, I really shouldn't." Danny could hear him pacing.

"Josh, you know me," Danny said earnestly.

"Yeah, I know you, but you're still a reporter, and, by the way, this isn't even your beat anymore." Josh was on a tirade now. "We've been friends for a long time, but you know I can't give you information on a day like this! Come on, man!" At that moment, a loud groan echoed around Danny as patrons of the bar lamented a pass gone wrong on the TV's not showing news coverage. "Are you at a bar?" Josh sounded astonished.

"No," Danny began. "No, yes, yes I am, but that doesn't matter..."

"Are you drunk?"

"Josh, no!" Danny was losing his thread of thought yet again.

"This is ridiculous," Josh said incredulously. "I'm hanging up."

"I love her," Danny said suddenly. "I think you already knew that, but I do. And I need to know if I'm going to prison for killing her attacker or her k..." Again, his voice refused to utter the words. He had meant his jab as a joke, but it was the truth.

"They haven't found her yet," Josh finally said. "Everyone else is accounted for; the President's safe, but they can't find her. No one's seen her since the show ended."

Even though Danny had been going over all the horrific possibilities for the last hour or so, he wasn't ready. He dropped his phone to the ground, vaguely aware of Josh's voice faintly calling his name.

Oh, God. Another wave of terror ran through him like a freight train. I have to find her. But it was impossible. Wasn't it? As soon as he entered the bar, he leaped out of there. He hobbled over to the street, searching frantically up and down. At last he saw what he was looking for and lunged forward into the road, screaming for the oncoming taxi to stop.

✥✥✥✥

Josh stared at the phone in his hand. What the hell was going on? He felt so useless, stuck at the White House while his family was in the middle of a crisis. As he mused whether or not to call Leo again, Donna walked into the office holding a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

"I'm guessing you're not going anywhere," she mused, looking concerned.

"Hey, it's going to be fine," he said, both trying to convince her and himself.

"Is it?" Donna looked on the verge of tears.

"Yeah," Josh began, but then deflated. "I... Was it like this the last time?" His meaning was clear to both of them.

"No," she simply stated. The scars on his chest seemed to tighten slightly, and there was a heaviness in the room that he wasn't ready to think about.

"The President should be arriving soon," he said, purposefully changing the subject, if only slightly.

"What about the rest of them?" Donna asked.

"I uh..." Donna didn't know that C.J. was missing. No one at the White House did, except he. "I'm guessing they'll be flown over in the morning. It's all still a bit unclear."

"Yeah, you could say that." They stood in silence for a while as Josh drank from his cup.

"Hey, were you talking to Danny Concannon?" Donna suddenly asked.

"What?" Josh snapped his head to look at her so quickly that he spilled most of his coffee on his hand. "Shit," he muttered as he shook the excess coffee off him.

"Here," Donna said, handing him a napkin.

"Why were you asking about Danny?" He wasn't quite ready to think about what he had just done. He'd leaked information, and he wasn't even sure why he did it. Something about this whole fiasco was affecting him more than he would have liked.

"This morning," she clarified. "I thought I saw him, and then Margret was telling me this insane story about him and Carol and Katie Witt." Donna smiled, as if to make sure he understood she thought this was silly, but he'd come accustomed to her calculating gaze to see that she knew something.

"Tell me what Margret said," Josh said, trying to calm his nerves. He suddenly felt as if he'd made a huge mistake.

✥✥✥✥

Before

Everything was going to hell; his plan was falling apart. He had to find a way to make her realise that they were destined for each other. This man was in his way. Always looming around her, trying in vain to protect her. As if he could protect her?? The only one who was worthy of her was him ! No one else understood her; no one else had been watching her for longer, knew her better—no one!

For years, he'd been observing her, biding his time. Waiting, and waiting for the correct moment for her to be ready for his love. If she could only focus on what was right in front of her. He had to make her see; he had to make him be the only one she could see—the only one she'd ever want to see. This other man was a threat to his plan. He had to find a way to eliminate him. To crush him like the insect he truly is.

And just like that, he knew what he had to do. It was for the best. She would realise that in the end.

✥✥✥✥

The taxi halted and jerked Danny forward. He'd arrived at Dulles; miraculously, the journey hadn't taken that long, or had he perhaps fallen asleep? There was constant pressure behind his eyes, and his body felt old and worn. He pulled cash from his ancient leather wallet and handed it to the driver before he left the car. He had no plan except to get closer to C.J., to be closer to where she'd last been seen. Stumbling around the busy airport, he managed to buy a seat for a flight that was leaving in less than a half hour after pleading desperately with the desk agent. He was running again, racing towards the soon-to-be-closed gate.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're closing the gate," the airline employee said apologetically.

"No, I'm here!" Danny screamed. "Please, just please let me on; I have to get on." She looked apprehensive and even a little frightened. "I need to get to New York," he continued, quieting his voice. "My... wife is in trouble." His eyes filled with tears. "I need to get to her." The lie fell easily from his lips. 

"A-all right," she sputtered, taken aback. Hurriedly, she guided him to the gate, and he ran to the opening of the evening flight to New York.

✥✥✥✥

It took a while, but she finally managed to slump into a sitting position. Gingerly, she moved her body, but as she made to turn, white-hot pain shot through her arm, making her gasp out loud. She raised her wrist, desperately trying to focus her vision, which was still blurry. Through her murky eyes, she made out how her wrist was abnormally wide, swollen, and crooked. This slight movement was enough to cause her to cry from pain as well as fear.

This was a room she was in, she'd surmised. There was a stale and sickly-sweet smell of dampness in the air, making her think of a cellar. The thought caused her to lose her balance, blinding her with fear. Where could she be? How did she get here? 

Just my luck, the second I lose my security detail, I end up here, wherever the hell here is. The irony was maddening. If they'd just waited until after the show... She had the strong sense that if Simon'd still been protecting her, she wouldn't be here. He would have saved her.

"You guys use bull's-eyes?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you'd use those little outlines of people."

"We have those too."

"'Cause I'm thinking if someone's coming for you, they probably don't have a

bulls-eye on them."

"They do if I'm guarding you."

The clear image of Simon filled her mind. They do if I'm guarding you... Where was he? Her heart ached as a different kind of thought took hold of her. What if something happened to him? But then true terror made her freeze as she heard footsteps approaching.

tbc.

Chapter Text

C.J. could not stop herself from closing her eyes as the footsteps approached. Despite her internal protest, she felt small and so vulnerable that a tiny whimper escaped her lips. Her entire being trembled, and her lungs stopped working. She sensed the presence of another person standing close to her. 

"Hey, you're up." The sound of that voice was enough to drastically re-inflate her lungs.

"Y-you!" Her voice was uncomfortably breathy and weak, and she wanted to cry, but the relief was warming her like an electric blanket. Simon was unharmed, whole and strong-looking – just like when she last saw him.

"Hey, hey, it's all right." He hurried to sit beside her, helping her sit straighter. "Here," he said, handing her a water bottle and helping her take a sip.

"Where are…" She was unable to say more, her voice breaking.

"Where are we?" C.J. nodded her head, taking in the man in front of her. The man she had just a moment ago been terrified that he had been hurt or worse. He was here with her. Everything was going to be alright.

"You’re safe," Simon said after a long pause. C.J. tried to organise her thoughts for a moment but felt like her head was filled with cotton-filled. She moved position, causing her to brush her hurt arm against him. She gasped as white-hot pain shot through her.

"Arm. Broken. Think." Her voice was a whisper now, hurting her with every syllable. At once, Simon looked down, his eyes wide as he noticed the abnormal size of her wrist. 

"Stay still." She couldn't help but smile. She had felt so alone, and now he was here. She observed as he took off his jacket and shirt. He began ripping the shirt apart, then taking the torn fabric and wrapping it around her wrist tightly. He moved with precision, his movement practised and secured. He ended by tying the sleeves over her shoulder, creating a sling to hold her damaged arm. Seeing him kneel before her, wearing only his undershirt, was like something out of an eighties action film. He wore a chain around his neck that she hadn't seen before, but she'd wager it was an army dog tag.

"Better?" He held up her undamaged wrist and kissed the back of her hand. 

"Yeah," she croaked.

He helped her take another sip of water, and the water, combined with the makeshift bandage plus Simon's closeness, helped her relax, even making her sleepy as if the adrenaline was rapidly leaving her body. 

"Simon, what happened?" C.J. whispered slowly. "Where are we?"

He was silent for a long while before finally deciding to tell her. "I was hoping you'd rest more before I told you." She didn't say anything but looked intently at him.

"Yeah, didn't think so." He chuckled, wrapping his jacket around her. "Well, let me start by telling you that the President is safe. As far as I know, everyone is okay."

"Why?" Her voice broke again, and she gestured around the musky room.

"Why we're here?" He was stalling, she could tell. 

"We're here to keep you safe. I know this place isn't great, but we need to lay low for a while. Remember when I told you that they had caught the guy? As it turns out, they didn't."

All the warmth she'd begun to feel evaporated.

"There was an attack, and once I realised what was happening, I grabbed you and, well, ran."

"Why?" She repeated.

"Because I don't know who I can trust. I have to keep you safe. Come on, drink your water." 

✥✥✥✥

"Ron, what the hell is going on." Leo's voice echoed on the walls of his office in the White House. They had just arrived back from Marine One , and the President was getting a physical despite his vehement protests and great annoyance.

"Mr McGarry," Ron's voice was surrounded by noise. "There has been a new development; I am sending you an agent to inform you and the President."

"I'd like you to tell me now."

"Ron…" Leo insisted.

"We're about to make an arrest."

"You are? Do you have a lead? Are you guys any closer to finding her?"

There was a roughness in Leo's voice that was borderline on being rude.

"My agent is en route-"

"The President is about to return here any second, and you better believe I will have an update for him."

"It's sensitive."

"Since when have you ever cared if something is sensitive; what the hell is going on here?"

Leo didn't hear Ron answer as Margaret quickly entered the office, whispering, "He's back." Leo hung up the phone and walked through the adjoining door that led to the Oval. Once inside, he was met with an annoyed Jed Bartlett, his shirt sleeves rolled up and collar undone. 

"This was a load of horse crap."

"I know, sir."

"Like there aren't, about a million other things I ought to be doing on a night like this, being the, oh, what is it again? Oh, yes, the President."

Leo sighed. He knew it was best to let him finish his tirade.

"But nooo. My time is best spent being poked and prodded after the terrible ordeal of walking briskly to a car."

"Sir, can we-"

"Althewhile, my Press Secretary is missing, presumably taken by a maniac that my armed guards were supposed to be protecting her from."

"Sir," Leo tried again but was interrupted by the President.

"She's been gone for hours, Leo! Hours! And I have to get a physical?" 

"I know, sir."

"And what are we waiting for?"

"An agent is coming in to give us an update."

Just as he spoke, Debbie promptly knocked on the door, peering inside.

"A Mr Boyer is here to see you, Sir." As always, her tone was a mixture of both questioning and accusatory simultaneously.

"Let him in," the President said, swiftly swinging his jacket through the air to put it on. 

✥✥✥✥

"Feeling better?"

C.J. stirred, carefully opening her eyes. She hadn't realised that she'd fallen asleep. Her head ached, and her thoughts were jumbled. 

"What time is it?" Thankfully, her voice was more substantial.

"It's early."

"You're still a big details kind-a-guy."

"Yup, that's me."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, causing a small somersault inside her.

"How's your arm?"

"Painful."

"We'll leave soon."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I told you."

"No, I need more information."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm a details-kind-a-gall."

The corner of his mouth moved again, but no somersault this time. She wanted to, no needed, to know what happened.

"There was an explosion-"

"An explosion?"

"Yeah, but it was a small one."

"When did this happen? Why can't I remember anything?"

"This happened after the show."

"And?"

"There was chaos, people screaming, you can imagine. My first thought was to get you to safety."

"But I'm still confused."

"About what?"

"Why you didn't follow protocol?"

"I'm not a liberty to sa-"

"Oh, don't start that, Simon. Just tell me. Why am I here and not in the motorcade with the rest of the senior staff."

"As soon as Agent Butterfield informed me that the man we had in custody wasn't the guy, I knew the perpetrator was loose, and this would be a perfect place to do something reckless."

"Reckless…" She repeated, tasting the word.

"As soon as I heard the explosion, I knew, just knew, that I had to get you away."

"But I still don't. I thought you guys always follow pro-"

"We do, but I wasn't thinking like an agent, was I?"

"You weren't?"

"C.J., this guy is getting increasingly reckless, which means he's more dangerous. He's delusional, completely off the rails. And that's why I don't know how to protect you when he can get so close to you…" Simon stopped talking abruptly.

"Do you know who he is?"

"No, that's not what I was saying."

"Simon!"

"I have a suspect, but I haven't been able to prove it yet."

"Who is it? Do I know him?"

"But soon, they'll get him, and then we'll be safe," he continued, not acknowledging her response.

"Simon, who do you think my stalker is?" Simon stared at her for a moment before he spoke.

"Danny Concannon."

C.J. had trouble fully understanding the words he had said. He couldn't have said… Danny? As her tired mind concluded that that was what he had said, she couldn't help but laugh. It was so absurd.

"Danny? You think my stalker is Danny Concannon?"

"Yes." There was a quiet wrath in his response.

"You can't be serious?"

"You can't be so stupid, C.J."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" She sat straighter, causing his jacket, wrapped around her, to fall to the cold ground. 

"Concannon has the means and the motive. You saw how he behaved at the White House."

"You're mistaken. I'm sorry, but you are."

"He has recently returned to the country, and the first thing he did was start accumulating information about your whereabouts. He bribed a real estate agent to stay in an apartment close to your home with a clear view of your front door." Simon was pacing back and forth, looking completely irate. 

"This doesn't make sense. I'm sorry, but it's not him. I know that."

"Why?" C.J. saw coldness in his eyes for the first time since meeting him. "Why do you refuse to believe what Danny Concannon is? To see him for what he truly is? He is a predator, and he can't protect you. Are you really so blind, Claudia, that you can't see that he has tried to ruin everything!"

"Simon," she said slowly, carefully. "Tell me where I am. Where are we right now?" 

"You're safe here. Now, I have to ensure he can never hurt you again."

"Simon, please, stop this. Let me out." She was begging, her eyes filled with tears. 

He didn't reply. He stared at her intently until he suddenly walked away from her, exiting the room.

✥✥✥✥

The man who entered the Oval seemed to be the same breed as Butterfield. He wore a neutral brown suit, had a pin-straight posture and even sported a little moustache. 

"Sir," Mr. Boyer acknowledged as he stopped in the middle of the room.

"You have an update for me?"

"Yes, Sir. We have received new intelligence pointing to a new suspect, which we will apprehend in approximately 20 minutes."

"Why 20 minutes?"

"The suspect is en route to New York at the moment."

"You mean from New York?"

"No, Sir, to New York."

"He's going to New York?" Leo asked, frowning.

"Yes, Sir. He's on a commercial flight at the moment. He will be seized at the gate."

"I'm having a hard time following you. This suspect, which you suspect to be responsible for the kidnapping of my Press Secretary after he blew up a car, causing mass panic in New York City, is on his way to New York. Does he have an accomplice?" 

"We have not ruled out that possibility, Sir."

"Leo, maybe I did hit my head while evacuating, but…"

"Ron mentioned that this was 'sensitive'; please elaborate." It was not unclear that this was an order.

"Sir, the suspect we are about to arrest is Daniel Concannon." Leo and Jed looked at each other, sharing the same look of incomprehension. 

"You're… Danny? That's your suspect?" 

"Yes, Sir."

"Get Ron on the phone."

"Mr President."

"No, this is getting out of hand, Leo. It's quite clear that there is something rotten in the state of the Treasury. Arresting Danny Concannon? A member of the Press at an airport? I cannot imagine anything going wrong?" His voice was laced with theatrical irony.

"What evidence do you have?" Leo asked. Mr. Boyer looked between the two older men, his eyes darting quickly between them. 

"Agent Butterfield wanted to be the one to tell you this," he said, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Tell us what?"

Again, he paused, choosing his words carefully before hurriedly informing the President.

✥✥✥✥

C.J. was alone again. She didn't want to risk standing up again. Her head was cloudy, and her limbs were heavy. Simon hated Danny and was on his way to what? She couldn't think it through. How could he believe that Danny was her stalker? But then she thought about those eyes. Cold and lifeless… There was a nagging feeling, biting at the nape of her neck, slowly filling her insides with vicious bees, stabbing her over and over again. A memory was pushed to the forefront of her brain. Simon called her Claudia. No one calls her Claudia except her father… In her mind, now painfully apparent, she thought of her desperate email to Danny. After he left her, no one save for Danny should have read that email, except perhaps the person with unlimited access to her computer. Her very own stalker.

tbc.                                           

Chapter Text

C.J. stirred as she fell to her side, her face hitting something cold. Again, she was waking up, not remembering that she had fallen asleep. Again, her mind was fuzzy, and her thoughts were murky. There was a constant, dull ache that cascaded constantly over her body. Fragments of memories came to mind, but they were blurry and strange—visions of pain and a needle , shock and terror.

She opened her eyes slowly and quickly realised she was in a car. Panicked, she tried to sit straight, but her body wouldn’t obey her commands. Calm down… Try to look out the window. Slowly, she turned her head and saw streetlights. There were people walking around and cars driving up and down the street. She tried to think about the last thing she remembered. Simon had just left her to what? Kill Danny? She was unable to stop a small moan of terror from escaping from her lips. 

“Just relax; it’ll all be over soon.” Hearing Simon’s voice, which had once been soothing and calming, now filled her with dread. She tried to respond, but her words became jumbled and slurred.

“You should rest, Claudia.” The use of her first name infuriated her. Again, she tried to sit straighter, but the effort only caused her to slump further down in her seat.

“Wha-gi-me?” She mumbled.

“What?”

“Gimm…” The effort to try to speak was too much for her. She closed her eyes, trying with all her might not to fall asleep again.

✥✥✥✥

Danny’s feet barely touched the ground as he was escorted out of the airport through side doors and narrow corridors. He was surrounded by black-clad men with earpieces and Glocks under their jackets, the stereotypical costume of the President’s bodyguards, like men cosplaying as the Secret Service. Danny knew any resistance would be futile, at least now. Finally, a door opened, revealing a black SUV waiting for them, the passenger door already open. He half expected a black hood to be thrown over his head, but none came. Instead, he was carelessly pushed inside the car, which drove off almost immediately, barely giving him time to sit down. 

“Where are you taking me?” Danny stared daggers at the two agents that sat in the front seats.

There was no reply.

“I have a right to know where you are taking me. I’m a Senior White House Correspondent, and you have to tell me where you’re taking me. You hav-”

“Be quiet,” one of the agents barked, cutting him off. There was finality in his words, and Danny was unnerved to find out he was scared. His entire professional life had been about speaking up, about finding the truth. Now, he only felt weak – small. 

The car ride had seemed longer than it probably was. Danny was truly feeling the effects of the day. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept through the night or when he’d last eaten, come to think of it. Once the car stopped, the door was flung open, and he was pulled outside. Again, he was led like a convict through a door and another one until he was left in a room. Inside, a man sat at a table, gesturing to him to sit down in front of him.

“Sit down, Mr Concannon,” Ron Butterfield said grimly.

✥✥✥✥

The street was loud, and the car moved slowly. There was the distinct sound of construction, loud jackhammers pounding in sync with her throbbing head. Music was blaring on both sides of the car, and two men arguing at the top of their lungs. The car stopped at a red light, and C.J. gazed out the window. The busy intersection was filled with people, and further down the street, she saw what she was looking for – police. Traffic was slow, and she made her decision quickly. Holding her limp hand close to her body, she cautiously and very slowly moved her good arm up to push the door lock up. Simon was busy driving, gazing up the street, muttering to himself. If this was going to work, she would have to do it fast. Once they were out of this traffic jam this wouldn’t be safe. She was about to push the small door lock when she looked up. Just then, Simon looked at her in the rearview mirror. At once, she groaned loudly, dropping her head to her chest. For good measure, she moaned and whimpered a little as well. Simon looked back at the road, and C.J. took the chance to unlock the door while her own vails disguised the sound of the lock being pushed. The car was moving slowly, but C.J. moved quickly. Pushing herself up, she opened the car door, and without hesitating, she stepped out of the moving car, falling to the street. At once, people screamed, and the car behind her braked suddenly. She tried to get up but was still too weak. Crawling towards the curb, two women came running to her aid. There was the sound of a car door opening. Fear filled her with added energy, and she army-crawled away from the car. The two women, tourists judging by their speaking, helped her to a sitting position, one of them holding a phone to her ear. The woman next to her held her close, her gaze one of grave concern.

“Do not worry; we will call ambulance,” she said in a heavy accent. C.J. couldn’t pinpoint the accent, but she would guess somewhere in Scandinavia.

“Please, the man-” C.J. whispered, the effects from whatever he’d given her still wreaking havoc on her system. The woman looked up just as Simon walked around the car, approaching C.J.

“Thank you for helping her,” Simon said sweetly. C.J. shook her head, trying to put her meaning into words, but they wouldn’t come. “She’s not well,” he explained. 

The woman caring for her observed the two of them, and when Simon took a step closer to her, the woman said to her counterpart. “Nej! Stoppe ham. Jeg tror han er farlig.” 

Although C.J. didn’t understand her words, their effects were immediate. The other woman stepped in front of Simon, shielding C.J. from him.

“Step back,” the other woman said in a heavy accent. 

“Get out of my way.” Simon’s voice was quiet.

“I have called police,” she replied, not stepping down if anything; she puffed out her chest and stood taller.

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Let’s wait then for police; discuss with them.” Simon looked at C.J., and she stared daggers at him.

“Come, Claudia, let’s not involve these nice ladies in this.”

“G-go,” C.J. replied, gaining some of her strength back.

“No, don’t try to sit,” the woman holding her pushed her down as C.J. tried to raise herself. She could hear a commotion behind them, voices growing louder.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said, moving his hand to his side. The woman holding C.J. suddenly yelled out, “Pas på!” At the same time, Simon pulled out his gun, and the woman in front of him lunged at him, pushing him back. The unmistakable sound of gunfire pierced the sky. All three women screamed as the one who’d charged at Simon fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Blind panic took over C.J. as she saw Simon pushing towards her. He pulled her arm, and she was unable to do anything, to fight back, to scream. She felt her unknown saviour holding her other arm valiantly, but he was stronger, finally yanking her away. Her shoulder snapped, and she cried out loud. There was complete disarray around them; people were running around, but there were also sounds of sirens approaching. C.J. looked up as a couple of police officers were running towards them. Simon struggled to open the car door, pushing her in once he’d opened it. She fell on the floor of the car, whimpering as she heard more gunfire. The front car door opened, and he sped off before he could close it. C.J. rolled around as the car sped off. There was gunfire yet again, and then the car veered suddenly. She imagined the tyres had been shot, judging by the reduced speed. Finally, there was a crash, and the car stopped. She shut her eyes in anguish, blocking the surrounding horror from her broken mind.

✥✥✥✥

Danny stared at the man in front of him. Of course, he knew who he was, but he’d never been face-to-face with him. Danny figured that his fate was truly fucked, now that the head of the secret service sat across him, looking ready to kill. But he wouldn’t go down without a fight. He’d stood up against power before and had no intention of not doing so now. He tried his best to match Butterfield’s grim expression but was unsuccessful. 

“Why am I here?” Danny asked.

“Mr Concanon,” Ron Butterfield began slowly. “Why did you fly to New York tonight?“

“Why?”

“Yes,” he replied curtly.

“Is that any concern of the Secret Service?” 

“Answer the question, Mr Concannon.” 

“There was something, is something important I need to attend to.” 

“And what is it that you need to do?”

“Have I done something wrong?” Danny asked, not ready to divulge the real reason he was in New York.

“Do you have any information about the abduction of Ms Cregg?” 

“Abduction?”

The question had surprised Danny. He had figured that someone at the White House had told them about the commotion this morning, but he hadn’t expected them to confirm C.J.’s disappearance. 

“I… No, I don’t know anything.” Danny hesitated.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, I only know she’s missing,” he said before he added, “Josh Lyman told me.”

“Mr Concannon, we received new evidence a few hours ago.”

“And?”

“This evidence indicates that you have been, for some time now, conspiring to kidnap and attack Ms Cregg. The testimony of a subject in this investigation has informed us that you paid him to take photographs of Ms Cregg at her home and work and threatened to harm his parents if he did not comply. Additionally, we have found traces of explosives in an apartment here in New York, leased under your name.”

Danny stared ahead, unable to take in what Butterfield had just told him. 

“Mr Concannon?”

“I… I’m at a loss for words,” Danny finally said after a long pause. “You think I kidnapped C.J.?” He was utterly deflated. This was so much worse than he’d imagined. The fight in him he’d felt just moments before was gone. He wouldn’t be able to fight this, not if the Secret Service was determined that he was the culprit. There was no energy left; he had no energy left. The only thing he could hope for was that C.J. would be saved. Perhaps this was what he was able to do for her. Confess, and the bastard would let her go. 

With a heavy sigh, he looked up from his musings at the other man and said, “You’re going to arrest me, aren’t you?”

But to his surprise, Agent Butterfield shook his head. 

“No, Mr Concannon.”

“Wait… You’re not?”

“No, we’re taking you to protective custody.”

“W-what?” Danny’s head was practically spinning now.

“Someone’s gone through a lot of trouble trying to convince us that you’re involved.” Danny had a feeling that Agent Butterfield knew who this someone was. 

“And you don’t believe them?”

“No, I do not.”

“Can I ask why?” Danny’s brain vibrated from this revelation, or perhaps it was just the exhaustion. 

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information.”

“Of course you’re not,” he muttered.

“You will be escorted to a secure facility now.” Butterfield stood up, and at once, the same agents from the airport entered the room.

“Where are you taking me?” Danny stood warily observing the agents who were going to take him – who the hell knew where.

“I’m not at lib-”

“-erty to divulge, yeah, yeah,” Danny finished. There was no use in trying to resist. He exited the room but was glad that, for now, the agents restrained from pushing him.

“Agent Butterfield?” Danny called after him just as he was about to turn away. “It’s her agent, isn’t it? The guy who has her? It’s Donovan.” He didn’t know what had compelled him to say this, now surrounded by Donovan’s colleagues. Butterfield looked at him intently before he turned around and walked away, not responding.

✥✥✥✥

People yelled, and the symphony of police sirens became unbearable in a rising crescendo. She thought she could smell smoke. 

There was movement, and then strong arms pulled her out of the car, and an indistinctive reflex took over. She kicked and screamed, trying to claw at the person holding her. There was a deafening noise, and the smell of burnt rubber and gunpowder assaulted her nostrils. She didn’t dare open her eyes, but she felt herself being dragged away. She was about to die; she was sure of that. The arms holding her were pushing her and pulling, and she imagined what he was going to do to her now. But then there was an unfamiliar voice speaking rapidly in her ear.

“Are you C.J. Cregg?” The shock of hearing the man say her name caused her to open her eyes. A NYPD badge was the first thing she saw. She turned her head and saw the face of a robust police officer. He was holding his gun in a firing position, quickly peering his head to the side.  “Ma’am?” This time, she nodded her head. He pulled his radio down at her confirmation, speaking rapidly, requesting backup. 

“I don’t… Feel.” The chaos wouldn’t stop, and her mind spun ‘round and ‘round. She was tired of fighting; she wanted to rest. There was more screaming, but she ignored it all. 

tbc.