*****
The West Wing and its characters are the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner
Brothers and NBC. No Copyright Infringement is intended.
********
Danny leaned over and took C.J.'s hand. "I thought they'd drag you out of there kicking and screaming as if you were off to the guillotine."
"Mrs. Landingham is very persuasive." C.J. told him as she glanced back at the older woman heading back into the White House. "She reminded me in no uncertain terms that I serve at the pleasure of the President and it would give him no pleasure for me to stay on duty when sick. But Danny, I don't feel that bad. I think I just need to get my second wind." She looked around, "Danny, why aren't we moving?"
"You need to give me your address so I can drive you home."
"Danny, Ace Reporter that you are, you haven't gotten it already? Haven't looked it up or wheedled it out of someone?" C.J. looked at him and he smiled. She continued, "You're busted Concannon."
"Okay, I know. So sue me." He made the turn out of the White House driveway.
"It's a nice neighborhood, but way too close to work."
"I know, but with these hours, that's a necessity." As she spoke, C.J. reached over and snapped off the car heater. "Your heater works well."
Danny thought the car was chilly. He'd thought about warming it up but didn't take the time. While he was busy with that thought and driving, C.J. opened her window. He felt the wind on a wintry Washington night whistle into the car. C.J. was shrugging out of her coat while offering him a shorter route than the obvious one. Danny had to do it, ask the obvious question. "C.J. aren't you a little cold?"
"No, I'm fine. Please stop fussing. Everyone is being considerate, especially you. But I'm okay. I'll have to figure out a way into work tomorrow...", her voice trailed off. Danny looked over in concern.
C.J. said, "Danny, what did you mean, I'll leave you a message about where to meet?"
"What?", Danny was confused. "When did I say I'd leave you a message?"
"Not me, Tommy. Mrs. Landingham's Agent. You can't interview him, you're not allowed to talk to him."
"Fine, then when we go to the Wizards' game next week, we'll act like monks who took a vow of silence. It's just a basketball game. God, C.J. calm down. I appreciated his help in getting you out with a minimum of effort. Though at the moment I can't remember why I was concerned."
C.J. mumbled, "Sorry, I have a hard time going off duty."
"I've noticed." Danny also noticed she was sweating despite the air rushing through the car.
"Turn here." She pointed towards the garage of her building. He pulled in and was confronted by a "card required" entry. He put his hand toward C.J. figuring the paragon of efficiency would have the card ready. She was just looking out the window, not really focusing.
"C.J., hey--how about some help here?" Danny put a hand on her shoulder.
She looked at him. "I'm sorry, I just, I couldn't concentrate. Oh, you need the card key." C.J. pulled it out of her coat pocket.
He used it and as the gate opened, she directed him to her parking spot. Danny was relieved to see it was near the elevator and well lit. He knew it was silly but he worried about C.J. being safe when she left for work early, when she returned home late. He shook it off, he didn't have the right to feel that way, not yet.
Danny parked the car and hopped out. He grabbed his bag, C.J.'s briefcase and the bag with the chicken soup. Even loaded down that much, he was faster than C.J. Danny was around the passenger side before she had the door open. He didn't know if C.J. would slap it away, but he offered a hand to help this most independent woman out. She took it and then grabbed her coat.
C.J. seemed a little more with it and had her keys out as they stepped off the elevator. Again, Danny felt pleased, her apartment was fairly close to the elevator, the hallway bright with light. But he wisely kept these thoughts to himself.
She unlocked the door and they moved into the apartment. He put down the bags in the foyer and walked with her into the living room. Danny felt immediately at home when C.J. hit the light switch.
The apartment was warm and welcoming, elegant and tasteful, soothing and sweet smelling. It was just like C.J. He was conscious of subtle colors, warm woods, pictures, pillows and homey touches. Danny realized now her office was an off shoot of this place.
C.J. was the perfect hostess even when feeling lousy and said, "Welcome." Danny murmured a thank you and wondered how to approach her. He decided to be direct. "C.J. you need to..."
"Danny are you cold?" She interrupted him. "I wonder if the furnace is working. It feels cold in here. You look cold." She walked over to the thermostat and turned it up.
"I am cold C.J. I'm freezing because you were too warm in my car. You turned off the heat, opened the window and took off your coat. There's frost on my windshield, on the INSIDE! Admit it, you'r sick."
He immediately regretted the flash of anger when he saw her shivering. She'd put her coat back on and went to the couch. C.J. curled up on it and turned to Danny. In a stubborn tone she said, "Danny, I'll be alright, truly."
Danny took off his coat and put it over her lap. He grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and draped it around her shoulders. He moved into the open kitchen area. He could see her huddle into the couch and covers as he put the soup in the refrigerator. Danny offered, "I'll make you some tea, if you tell me where everything is."
"No, don't bother. Come back here and sit with me. Please."
"Okay." He went to sit on the chair next to the couch.
"Not there, here." C.J. indicated the couch. When he was settled next to her, she took his hand. "I haven't been very nice and you have. You're right, I'm not fine. I'm exhausted and I guess that's why I'm so scattered."
"It's more than that C.J., you're sick. The flu got you, now give in. Get in your rattiest pajamas or nightgown and crawl into bed."
"My rattiest what?" C.J. asked.
"When I was a kid and sick, my Mom said put on your oldest pajamas. They were usually flannel. You did it because they felt so good, they'd help you get better." Danny smiled at the memory.
C.J. smiled back at him. "Josh wanted me to kiss his forehead."
Danny dropped her hand. "Excuse me, I guess I'll have to kill him."
"Why? No, his Mom used to kiss his forehead, if it was warm and salty--he had a fever."
"Did you?"
"No, but he did have a fever. I put my hand on his forehead. Was that okay?"
"Well, you have a fever too. You're shivering but you're in a sweat." Danny leaned over and kissed her forehead. "This just makes it official."
She sighed, "My Mom would always get us new coloring books. I always wanted one of the dot to dot ones. I liked to figure things out."
Danny took possession of C.J.'s hand again. "Sorry, fresh out of coloring books. How about a cup of tea?" He noticed she'd stopped shivering. "You'll have to tell me where stuff is."
"No, I'll do it. You're my guest and I've warmed up." She tossed off the throw. "Are you hungry? And coffee would be better. Tea is for sick people." Danny started to protest even as C.J. moved Danny's coat off her lap and took off her own coat. She headed into the kitchen to tend to her guest. "Are you hungry, Danny? I can throw something together." As she talked, she pulled a bag of coffee beans out along with a grinder and moved to the coffee maker.
"C.J., this isn't necessary. To quote you earlier, 'Stop fussing.' Are you sure you're hungry? I keep hearing this bug is an appetite killer."
She told him, "I'm not hungry but then I had meetings at breakfast and lunch. You know that means tables loaded with food."
C.J. opened the bag of coffee beans and put them in the grinder. The rich smell wafted through the room and Danny took a deep appreciative whiff, the smell had the opposite effect on C.J.
She stopped the grinder, put a hand over her mouth and said, "Excuse me." Danny watched her rush down the hall. He shook his head knowing that queasy look meant she couldn't deny being sick any more.
**********
Danny waited, unsure what to do. As the minutes ticked by, he heard the toilet flush over and over. He was getting restless so he put the coffee beans and the grinder away. Still no C.J. The toilet flushed a few more times.
He was getting more worried but also didn't want to charge in and violate C.J.'s privacy. Danny had to keep moving. He hung up her coat in the closet and as an afterthought did the same with his. He folded the throw and replaced it on the couch.
C.J. didn't reappear. Danny walked around the living room just for something else to do. He checked out the view from the windows framing the fireplace, Danny gave a quick glance at the items on the mantle and scanned the CDs stored next to the entertainment armoire. The CDs were in alphabetical order by musical category. It didn't surprise him.
"Time's up." His worry overcame his concern for her privacy. Danny moved down the short hall and realized he was outside C.J.'s bedroom. Danny paused in the doorway until he heard C.J. retching. "The Hell with what she says, I'm needed.", he thought.
He walked quickly through the bedroom and had a quick flash of lace, lots of pillows and pictures. Scents lingered in the air: C.J's perfume plus the smell of vanilla and flowers.
Danny tapped on the bathroom door and then stepped right in. "I'm sorry C.J. But I got worried about you."
C.J. paused between heaving and said, "I'm fine." This despite her make-up smeared on her face, the skin under being pale and the fact she was hanging on to the toilet bowl as if it were a life preserver.
"Whatever." Danny grabbed a washcloth and ran it under water. He wrung it out and moved over to her. "Let's put this on the back of your neck."
"I guess the smell of the coffee did me in."
"As long as it wasn't my aftershave." Danny settled on the floor next to her. "Let's get your jacket off."
C.J. let him help her out of it, she'd kicked off her shoes outside the bathroom door. Another bout of vomiting prevented any more conversation. Danny stayed silent but kept a hand on C.J.'s back. He felt helpless until inspiration struck, he could do one small thing. He reached around and held her hair back while she was bent over the bowl.
When that wave subsided, Danny got up to refresh the washcloth. C.J. looked up and asked, "Danny, could you reach in that right hand drawer, please. I need a clip to put my hair up."
He opened the drawer and laughed. "You'll have to be more specific C.J. There are a bunch of hair things. I've never seen anything so neat in my life. They're all sorted by size, style and color. I should've known."
She hissed, "Just grab something. I don't need your smart mouth."
"No." Danny put in quickly, "It was a compliment. I expected nothing less especially after I saw your CDs all organized. I'll bet your spices are alphabetized too."
His hands were busy while he talked: handing her a clip and then putting the fresh damp cloth on her forehead. Danny also filled a glass of water and told her, "Just swish this around, don't swallow it."
"Where'd you get such a good bedside manner, Dr. Concannon?", C.J. wondered.
"I hate to admit it but I got to be an expert on nausea and vomiting in college. Did my graduate work in the subject when I was a younger but not wiser reporter."
C.J. confided, "Whenever I find myself in this position, I wonder how anyone can start being bulimic. It's such an awful feeling." She swished the water and spit it out. "I'm so thirsty."
"Better not.", Danny cautioned. "Want a little toothpaste or mouthwash to get the taste out of your mouth."
"Not yet, sorry. Probably not too pleasant to be close to me." C.J. slumped over the bowl. "I'm so tired."
"Let me worry about how close I want to get to you." Danny put a folded towel on the floor."Here put your head down. Go slow so you don't get too dizzy. I'll be right back."
Danny headed back to the kitchen. He looked in the refrigerator and pulled out bottles of Ginger Ale and 7-Up. He rummaged for glasses and then poured some of each. Danny figured by the time they were flat and at room temperature, C.J. might be able to handle something to drink.
As Danny shut the refrigerator door, he noticed two snapshots held by magnets. They were White House Photographer shots, one of him with notebook and pen in hand. He seemed to be listening intently. The other was of the two of them. C.J. and Danny were facing each other and smiling. Both of the shots had been taken in the Press Briefing Room on different days.
The sight of them puzzled but also cheered him. Danny wanted to ask C.J. about the pictures. But then he might have to admit he’d charmed a few pictures of her out of photographers. He had one propped up on his desk at home, it was of her at the State Dinner. The other one in his dresser mirror was snapped during a snowball fight on the White House lawn. C.J. didn't’t need to know about them--yet.
Danny went over to the fireplace and lit it. The room felt cozier right away. Then he went over to his travel bag and pulled a few things out of it. It was nearly 11:00 P.M., he’d lost track of the time.
C.J. had lost track of time too. The bathroom floor felt cool to her. She wondered how much longer Danny would hang around and put up with this. She had to make an effort to get back to functioning.
She was picking herself up off the floor when he came back to the doorway. C.J. had moved too fast and another wave of nausea drove her back to the toilet bowl. Danny dropped what he was carrying and was right there beside her.
When C.J. could speak, she apologized. "I was trying to get up. I decided I was done being sick. My body disagreed with my mind."
"You’re stubborn even now.", Danny told her. "But I think you might be past the worst of it. I poured you something to drink for when you’re up to it."
C.J. summoned up a smile. "Thanks." She noticed a pile of clothes on the floor. "What do you have there?"
"Oh, a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and one of my T-shirts. You can get into these and you’ll be more comfortable."
She was touched by his gesture. "Are they ratty?"
"Not quite, but they’re old enough to be pretty soft." He’d settled on the floor with his back against the wall. "Come here." Danny started to pull C.J. to his shoulder.
"Wait, not yet. That’s a little too upright. And before I get that close, I’d better grab the mouthwash. "C.J. rinsed out her mouth as Danny watched.
"Sure, take your time."
C.J. finished and slowly moved to put her head on his leg. She was still close to the toilet bowl if needed. They were quiet for a few minutes, Danny stretched his arm out to put his hand on her hair. She broke the silence. "Danny why did you have pajamas with you?"
"Come on, C.J., you know this business. You always have to have a bag ready to go."
"So you're the pajamas type?"
"That's pretty personal, young lady." There was laughter in his tone.
"Oh, my mistake. Except you're sitting on my bathroom floor, we're in a semi-intimate position, you've watched me recycle everything I've ever eaten. I think we've broken new ground."
"Well, I want to leave some mystery. Let's just say C.J. that on the road I am always well dressed at bedtime. I've learned from those tales of sleepy reporters taking a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and ending up naked in the hallway outside their hotel room."
"Or on a balcony that faces the inside of the hotel." C.J. added.
"Yep, I carry a night light for those reasons too. Boy Scout motto, be prepared."
"I won't ask what else you're prepared for."
Danny changed the subject. "Think you're ready to sit up a bit higher?"
"Let's try." C.J. gingerly sat up. She moved to rest her head on his shoulder.
He was anxious about her. "Feeling dizzy?"
"Not now, just tired."
"I can see that." Again there was silence, but a comfortable one. She had her hand nestled on Danny's chest. He was holding C.J. close and stirred enough to say, "Well, I wanted to see your place and I've imagined getting you on the floor. I confess, I pictured it a little differently."
She gave a weak laugh. "If I'd had a chance to eat those wicked looking chocolates you brought me, I might be suspicious about my illness and your motives. You're off the hook for now."
"Glad to hear it. Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, I feel a little less light headed. I'd like to try and get up so I can change out of these clothes."
"You sure? I can just keep holding you for the next hundred years or so." Danny tightened his grip.
"As lovely as that sounds. I think it's a bit impractical. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable on something with a little more padding." With that, C.J. sat up.
Danny got up and helped her to her feet. "How's that? Is the room spinning?"
C.J. said, "So far, so good. If you'll excuse me."
He left the bathroom and closed the bedroom door as he crossed back into the hall. Danny waited a minute, just to be sure he didn't hear the thump of a fainting C.J. hitting the floor.
Nothing happened so he went back to the living room. Danny noticed it was almost midnight. "Time to relax", he thought. He checked the fire in the fireplace and then crossed over to the stereo. He hit the switch and the sound of classical music filled the room. It wasn't anything Danny recognized but it sounded lush and restful. He looked around for a clue to the title like a CD case.
"Nice choice, it's the 'Brook Green Suite' by Gustav Holst." Danny turned at the sound of C.J.'s voice. His heart skipped a beat, one of the most elegant women in the country was wearing his white T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. It was a great sight.
Her hair was pinned up and she had a terry cloth robe over Danny's clothes. He noticed she'd scrubbed off all the smeared make-up. C.J. looked washed out but she was still standing. "You look like you're 12 years old.", he told her.
C.J. grimaced. "Thanks for the loan. I hope you don't mind. I added a few accessories."
"You look great, better than I ever did in that outfit." Danny moved toward her, "Over here, you need to sit down."
"I think I’d like to try something to drink. I’m really thirsty, guess that’s a good sign."
"I’ll get it for you, let's try the Ginger Ale. Park it." Danny guided her over to the couch. When she was settled, he covered her with a throw.
"If you offer to plump the pillows, you’re out of here." C.J. rewarded him with a smile. "I’m not an invalid."
"Got it." Danny moved to the kitchen and brought back the glass. "You sure you want to attempt this?"
"Yeah, I’ve already had the dry heaves. If I’m going to be sick again, at least there’ll be something in my stomach."
"Good point."
C.J. sipped her drink and closed her eyes. "Tastes like nectar of the gods. The fire feels wonderful too." She opened her eyes to look at him. "Why did you choose this piece of music?"
Danny was on the chair facing her. "I’d like to offer you a deep analysis of the contrasting themes, chordal structures and rhythmic meters. But, it was the one already in the CD player."
"That works too. Did you get yourself something to eat?"
"I will when I need to. Stop playing hostess."
"Alright."
"Play tour guide instead."
"Tour guide?"
"Yeah, around the apartment."
"O-kay," C.J. dragged the word out because she was confused.
Danny saw the confusion. "No, don’t get up. Just point."
"I can manage that. Down the hall that way," she pointed to the left, "are a guest room, a bathroom and a den. Back that way as you can see is the dining room. You’ve seen the kitchen, my bedroom and bathroom. Tour over."
"Nice but I wanted something more personal."
"How personal?"
"Tell me about this picture." Danny pointed to the sofa table. In a simple frame with a mat around it, there was a photograph of C.J. Cregg and Abigail Bartlet. "I like it."
C.J. looked at it and smiled. "Me, too. It was taken during the campaign. Mrs. Bartlet stepped in at the last minute to do a Southern swing. Of course as you know, she charmed everyone just like she always does."
Danny the reporter probed for more. "But this isn’t a typical posed shot." It wasn't. The two women had their heads close together and they were laughing.
"No, we were surprised when we saw it on the contact sheet. The President, well Governor then, told us we were too old to be giggling like school girls and that nobody’s allowed to have that much fun campaigning."
"That didn't stop Mrs. Bartlet."
"Nope, she had two copies made. I was thrilled when she presented me with mine."
"Where’s the other one C.J.?"
"In her White House Sitting Room."
"I can see why you cherish it."
Danny had already noticed it was signed by Abigail Bartlet. It read, "C.J. the laughs on the trail are too few. Thanks for sharing this one with me and for all you’ve done. With love, Abbey."
That held their attention as they fell silent. But the lack of conversation was't uncomfortable; it seemed right to let the music dominate the room. Danny looked over and noticed C.J. was half asleep. "Hey, C.J." He spoke softly, "Let’s get you to bed."
"Okay, I won't argue." She started to get up.
Danny moved to her side. "That’s a first, no argument. Feeling okay after the Ginger Ale?"
"So far it’s staying down. That’s progress."
Danny helped her up and walked her down the hall with a supporting arm around her. He stopped at the bedroom door and advised, "Just pull up the covers and forget the world exists."
"I’ll try. But I won’t forget you exist and all that you’ve done for me tonight. Good Night." They looked at each other and then Danny gently pushed her toward the bed. He closed the door and walked away.
Back in the living room Danny turned down the music and tended the dying fire. He straightened things up and looked at his watch. He was surprised to see it was 1:00 A.M. But he knew he wasn't leaving yet. Danny wanted to be there in case C.J. needed him again.
He also needed food. He hit the kitchen and found crackers, then cheese and fruit. One more thing, Danny made himself a stiff drink. It had been a long week. After he ate, he refreshed the drink and kept an ear out for C.J. He hadn't heard signs of trouble like her moving around or the toilet flushing. Good omens.
He restlessly walked around the apartment. The display of pictures on the mantle halted his prowling. The framed photos caught his eye. There was one taken on the morning of the Election at the Bartlet family farm. Josiah Bartlet sat on the front porch steps with C.J. and Mandy on either side. Josh, Toby, Sam and Leo were clustered around. Everyone dressed casually and smiling.
There was an inscription. "C.J., no matter what the morrow brings, your gifts of time, talent and friendship will never be forgotten. It’s been a great ride. With affection, Jed Bartlet."
Also on the mantle, a formal photograph of the West Wing staff at one of the Inaugural Balls. No Mandy in this picture. Just C.J. in a sleek, navy beaded gown surrounded by her male cohorts in white tie and tails.
Danny remembered literally bumping into C.J. that night as he left to file his story. She was heading back to get her wrap and leave. They offered each other polite apologies and he caught the scent of her perfume, an olfactory memory that never left him.
He took another sip of his drink as he looked at a double frame with more formal pictures. There was one of the President taking the Oath of Office with his wife holding the family Bible. The other half of the frame held a picture taken at the Official Inaugural Ball. The President in white tie and tails flanked by the First Lady in that vibrant red gown that generated lots of buzz, on his other side, C.J. in the navy gown. This one was personalized too. “Not only brains and beauty around me, but we look so patriotic. Three cheers for this red, white and blue. President Josiah Bartlet.”
Danny held up his glass in a silent toast to the pictures, his eyes zeroed in on C.J.