John sat in the formal sitting room of the Observatory, waiting for his guest to arrive.

CJ had commandeered the sofa beside him and his staff were standing around the room, gazing out onto the lawn and making small talk.

Elsewhere in the building the phone was ringing, as it had been all day at the office.

President Bartlet had finally told his staff the morning before and as yet John had heard little of their reactions but he could speculate.

The Cabinet had been told in the Oval Office the same afternoon and most of them had been in touch to offer congratulations or to assure him of their support.

Nancy, as it turned out, had been one of the first to call, and he had immediately invited her for drinks. She had later phoned CJ to offer her congratulations and the two women’s relationship only reassured him she was the right choice.

A steward knocked on the door and the room immediately became silent.

John stood and opened the door, CJ following close behind.

Nancy stepped into the room and smiled faintly at those gathered.

John took her hand and shook it firmly, hoping he didn’t seem as nervous as she obviously was.

After CJ had greeted her with a friendly kiss on the cheek. John did the introductions and guided her to a seat.

“I’m glad you could come,” John said, warmly.

“It was unexpected Mr. Vice President,” she replied.

John nodded and glanced momentarily at his wife, before focusing on Nancy.

His eyes firmly holding her own, along with the brightness of his smile had Nancy more than willing to listen to him. She had never really understood the attraction he’d held for women of all ages, but now that his charm was fully aimed in her direction, she blushed slightly.

“So, the reason we called you over is because I would like to offer you a position.”

Nancy’s eyes widened slightly as she contemplated what he could possibly be offering her.

“With the President’s resignation and my swearing in there is a vacancy in my old office, in this house,” he chuckled, waiting for her jaw to drop.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“Nancy. I’d like you to come on board as my Vice President.”

Nancy looked awestruck and more than a little embarrassed that five pairs of eyes were fixed on her.

CJ was smiling at her, knowingly.

The thought flashed through Nancy’s mind that the other woman seemed to have some affinity for what she was going through. The total bewilderment of what was being offered, the changes it would mean to her life and more importantly, at the moment, the effect this bolt out of the blue was having on the functioning of her mind and body.

“You want me as Vice President?” Nancy managed a few seconds later.

John grinned, “Yes.”

She fell silent as she considered it.

CJ glanced at John and motioned with her head that it was time for everyone else to leave. They had discussed it at length and it seemed only fair that he tell Nancy everything.

“Guys, can you leave us alone for a while?” John asked, casting his eyes around the room.

“Sir?” Tim asked, hesitantly.

“I have a few things I’d like to discuss with Nancy, in private,” he said softly, his eyes issuing a ‘get the hell out of here’ command.

The others left, leaving the three of them alone.

“Mr. Vice President, I don’t know what to say,” Nancy admitted. “I mean I’m a doctor in International Relations, I know nothing about domestic politics.”

“Firstly, call me John,“ he said, smiling. “And that isn’t going to be a problem. I have an advisor all set up to assist you.”

“And you don’t think I’m a liability?” she asked, glancing down at herself.

“No,” he said, with authority that left no room to question. “I think you’ll be an asset.”

He looked at CJ, who nodded.

“There is one thing, however, you should be aware of,” John started.

Nancy stared at him in apprehension.

“I am an alcoholic. I had my last drink at twenty two and I attend AA meetings once a week,” he said, quietly. “I wanted you to know that. I need to be honest with you from day one.”

John wanted there to be full disclosure. When Jed had offered him the Vice Presidency he had been bitter about losing and the gesture itself. With Nancy he knew there wouldn’t be bitterness. She had no desire for the job, but he needed to be sure she wouldn’t feel another Presidential candidate should have the job.

Jed’s announcement that he had MS had come at the end of the campaign and left John with no room for movement. He couldn’t expose Jed without throwing away his own political aspirations and the White House for the Democratic Party. He hoped by being honest with Nancy now, before the campaign, they would share a resilient working relationship.

He could still remember walking out of the hotel suite in anger and Jed following him. Watching Jed beg him to take the appointment had given him none of the satisfaction he expected. Now he had the chance to make amends.

“That was a well kept secret,” Nancy said, smiling.

“There are better ones.”

“Yes.”

“Nancy?” CJ asked quietly. “Can I get you a drink?”

The older woman nodded. “A glass of water would be good.”

“Nothing stronger?” John teased, causing them both to smile.

“No. Can I ask something?”

“Sure.”

“Who is going to be advising me?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap.

John grinned widely at her unconscious phrasing. He relaxed at the knowledge she was going to accept.

“Leo. He was here when we discussed the appointment and he agrees with me.” He waited a beat. “So Madam Vice President?”

Nancy’s eyes twinkled as she watched him rise from his chair and stood to join him. Extending her hand she shook his firmly. “I accept.”

******************************************

After the guests had left, John disappeared into his study to phone the President and Party Chairman, to inform them both of his appointment of Vice President.

CJ was heading up the stairs when there was a knock at the door. She waited on the steps while a steward appeared below and opened the door.

She was expecting one of John’s staff on the doorstep and was therefore taken aback to see Toby shuffling into the lobby.

“Hey,” she called, descending the stairs and walking towards him.

“Hey.”

“You look like hell,” she commented dryly.

Toby slid his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet.

“Okay. You’d better come into the sitting room,” she suggested, heading towards the room they practically lived in.

Toby followed behind in silence.

“Can I get you a drink?” She asked, watching him, concerned. “Coffee, something stronger?”

“Beer,” he grumbled.

“Can you get Mr. Ziegler a beer and a coffee for myself?” she asked the steward and waited for the door to close. “How did you get here?”

“Taxi.”

CJ sighed. It was going to be a long night if he was going to answer in single words. And by the looks of him, he had been drinking pretty heavily.

John was going to love the idea of her ex boyfriend sleeping in the spare room, but nevertheless she had to offer.

Settling herself on the sofa, CJ watched as he paced the room, ignoring her presence.

“Toby?” she tried after a few minutes.

He paused momentarily to rub his beard. Seconds dragged as he thought about what to say.

“Well, not that this isn’t nice, but what do you want?”

Toby looked up and found himself caught in her eyes.

CJ felt her stomach churn at the look of despair and anger reflected back at her. “Oh my god. Toby, what’s happened?” she asked, a panicky feeling consuming her body.

“The President resigned,” he growled.

CJ let out the breath she was holding and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, I know.”

“Go figure,” he muttered. “Seems I was last in the loop this time.”

“When did you find out?” CJ asked, moving to stand nearer to him and touching his arm.

He glanced at his watch. “Two and a half hours ago.”

“And you’ve been a bar ever since,” CJ groaned.

He shrugged and she wanted to wrap her arms around him, trying to give him the strength he had given her during the MS crisis.

“When did you find out?” he mumbled, dropping into a chair and lowering his head into his hands.

CJ thought for a second. “Five days. We were called to the Residence.”

“Claudia,” he gasped and she rushed to his side.

She had never expected him to take it well. The scale had ranged from disappointment to anger but not despondency. His outwardly bedraggled state was nothing compared to the emptiness in his eyes.

“I’m here,” she whispered, taking his hands in her own and ducking her head to look up into his eyes.

“Why?”

“What did he tell you?” As the words left her mouth, she cringed at the possibility the President had avoided the confrontation and delegated.

Toby shrugged. “That it wasn’t a decision he had taken lightly. That by leaving he would have time with Abbey before . . .”

“Yeah.”

“That your husband was going to be sworn in,” he paused to gaze into her eyes. “You’re going to be First Lady,” he grumbled, his eyes, for the first time, revealing a glint of amusement.

“Seems I’m going to have to hang my pool cue up for good,” she teased, smiling at him.

“Maybe they’ll let you erect a table in the Residence.”

CJ nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel,” Toby admitted, dropping her hands and starting to pace.

CJ followed him. “I was scared. About losing him, about what was coming next.” She smiled, “And this feeling that my life was becoming more surreal by the day.”

“I thought he wanted to do so much more,” Toby growled.

“He does, it’s just that maybe time isn’t on his side.”

“Claudia?” He said moving towards her and grabbing her waist. “Are you frightened?”

Resting her hands on his shoulders she nodded. “Petrified.”

“What do I do now?” he asked quietly, his hands never letting her go.

“Whatever you want,” she offered, pulling his head to her shoulder and glancing at the door as it opened.

John stood in the doorway, his eyes flashing with something she hadn’t seen before, a steward beside him.

CJ waved a hand for the coffee to be brought in and locked eyes with her husband. As he turned to leave she caught his attention and motioned him in.

“I should go,” Toby suggested, still holding her tightly.

CJ’s eyes pleaded with her husband silently over his shoulder.

“You should stay here for tonight,” John said, reluctantly.

Toby pulled back and spun around. “Mr. Vice President? I’m sorry. I . . .”

“You’re not trying to seduce my wife,” John only half joked. “No, I didn’t think you were.”

CJ let out a breath and picked up the glass of beer. “Here, drink this.”

Toby took the glass and waited for the Vice President to sit before he fell into a seat. “I shouldn’t have come here. It’s just. . .”

“You’re always welcome in my home,” CJ said, firmly. “You’re Rachel’s honorary Jewish godparent and my best friend.”

John’s eyes darkened and he stared at the fireplace. “Does it make any sense to you?” John asked Toby quietly.

“No.”

“That much we do agree on.”

“I’m guessing we wait and in his own time he’ll tell us the truth,” Toby growled, taking a large sip of the beer and focusing on his shoes. “There’s certainly something he’s holding back now.”

“I’m going to check that someone’s making up the spare room,” CJ announced, standing and heading to the door.

As the door closed quietly behind her, Toby lifted his eyes and looked at John. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?”

“It’s what Claudia wants. Besides you don’t look exactly capable of making it home.”

“I was so angry and confused,” Toby muttered.

“Yeah, I know that feeling. The night before the convention when he told me about the MS. The world goes on around you and you’re trapped in the center,” John explained.

“I was just angry about the MS, the confusion came later.”

John nodded, clasping his hands in his lap. “Another beer?”

“No, I don’t want a lecture from her tonight,” Toby frowned.

“But she’s so good at it,“ John joked and they shared a knowing look. “She’s going to need you around, Toby.”

Toby stared at him thoughtfully, noting the obvious jealousy of CJ’s relationship with him, and the knowledge she was always going to want Toby in her life. “I don’t know where I’m going to go. Or what I’m going to do.”

“I have a suggestion. But this isn’t the time,” John admitted, wryly.

“Go on, might as well deal with it all in one day.”

“Claudia is going to need a Chief of Staff, someone to organize her, someone who understands her moods,” he paused to rethink. “I mean her needs. I know she desperately wants to ask you.”

“Oh.”

“Give it some thought, please, for her.”

Toby raised his eyebrows at the Vice President’s use of the word please and his unspoken desire to make his wife happy.

“You should also probably know she’s going to bring Carol on board in Communications,” John added, rising to his feet.

“Makes sense,” Toby muttered, his head trying to deal with everything he had heard.

“I’m going to bed. I trust you’ll send her up soon.”

Toby nodded and rustled to his feet. He extended his hand. “Congratulations Mr. Vice President.”

“Thank you.” John released his hand and strode confidently to the door.

Toby, he suspected, would take the job, and for his part, John was going to ensure Carol and Toby found life long happiness. Nothing was going to spoil his relationship with his wife.

**************************

John made the call himself. He got the number from CJ and dialled through to the West Wing. When Sam answered the phone he waited.

“Sam, it’s the Vice President.”

“Sir,” he replied, guarded.

“Can you spare a few moments to come over?” John asked, flipping through Sam’s FBI file.

Sam leaned back in his seat and watched Toby skulk into his office. “Of course. Let me just check.” He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and took a deep breath. “How does fifteen minutes suit you?”

In his office John nodded. “That’s fine.” Replacing the receiver he tucked the folder in his top drawer and headed out to his anteroom.

“Janine, Sam Seaborn’s on his way over. You can send him straight in.”

She looked up from her typing and smiled. “Yes, Sir.”

“And when he’s gone, I’d like you to come into my office,” he added, half turning in the doorway.

He still hadn’t told his assistant what was going on, although he strongly suspected she already had some inkling by the amount of traffic through his office of late. He hoped she was willing to take on the role of President’s secretary, he couldn’t imagine not having her with him.

“Okay.”

John closed the door behind him and settled himself on the couch, to wait.

Sam was, as always, on time. His attire and his hair immaculate and his face set in a neutral façade.

John stood to shake his hand and offered him the obligatory coffee before motioning that they sit on the couch. Finally he clasped his hands in his lap and fixed Sam with a warm smile.

“I’ll cut to the chase. You and I have always got along, we seem to work well together and I like your style.”

Sam continued to stare at him blankly. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Which is why I’d like to offer you a job on my staff,” John finished.

“Mr. Vice President?”

“Yes Sam, I did say, a job. My Communications staff are somewhat inexperienced, and therefore I need someone who knows what they’re doing. I’d like you as Director.”

“Me?” Sam squeaked, the pieces falling into place. “Oh.”

“Before you answer, I’d like you to give it careful consideration. You’d be Director of Communications, as such you’d play an active role in advising me, and you can pick and choose your staff.”

Sam waited for him to finish. “I don’t need to think it over, Sir. The answer is no. At this time I do not feel I’m in a position to accept the job.”

John nodded sadly. It was what he had expected but he felt the need to ask the question. “Why not?”

Sam looked contemplative for a second. “The President’s resignation has come as somewhat a surprise and I’m not sure what I’m going to be doing. Right now, I can’t commit to anything.”

“I can understand that. Does this mean. . .?” John asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Sam replied, hesitantly.

The job was everything he wanted, he longed to be Toby’s successor and maybe one day he would, but for now it was a matter of loyalty. Josh, being Josh, was angry and moody, and still hungover. Sam fully expected him to run for something the following year, and he knew that Josh was going to need him. The least he could do, was wait for Josh to make his mind up before he decided.

“Okay. Well,” John stammered. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Sir,” Sam replied, shaking his hand. He went to take a step and stopped. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

As Sam left John made his way back to his desk and pulled a new file out of his desk. Scanning through he make a mental note of the names Tim had listed. Now he was going to have to find someone else.

**************************

Carol drove up to the gates and wound down the window. The agent on duty took a long look in the car and motioned for her to open the trunk. That complete, he flashed a torch under the car and let her through. The short driveway ended in the horseshoe at the steps to the house. Carol parked up and made her way up the steps.

CJ was waiting in, what was now, the family room, the day’s papers spread out on her lap. She looked up when the door opened and stood to greet Carol. She hugged the smaller woman and inquired whether she wanted coffee. As they sat down on the couch CJ crossed her legs and folded her hands in her laps.

“So you’re wondering why I asked you over,” CJ began, grinning.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Oh my god, please don’t call me that,” CJ groaned. “CJ. Claudia.”

“CJ.”

“The President is resigning.”

Carol’s jaw dropped and a small gasp escaped her mouth. “Really?” She briefly wondered why the hell Toby hadn’t mentioned it, but then there were so many things they couldn’t discuss and he hadn’t come home the night before.

“He’s announcing it next week and John’s going to be sworn in next month,” CJ explained, leaning forward on the cushion. “Which means I’m going to have an office in the East Wing.”

“Yeah. Why, I mean, he’s not sick, is he?”

CJ reached across to squeeze Carol’s knee. “Not yet, but I think he wants to spend some quality time with his family.”

“So you’re going to be back in the White House?” Carol asked, not fully understanding why CJ had called her over.

“East Wing, yes. And I need staff I can trust. Toby’s hopefully coming on board as Chief of Staff. Which leaves me in need of a Director of Communications and Press Secretary,” CJ said, watching Carol’s face. “I was hoping you’d take the job.”

Carol blinked and turned to stare at her former boss. “Me,” she squeaked, “But I’m an assistant.”

CJ grinned and patted her knee. “You were always more than just an assistant. I think you’d be good. Toby agrees with me.”

“Oh. And the salary?” she asked, confidently.

“That’s my girl,” CJ laughed. “I’m not sure what the exact figure is but it’s more than you get now. So?”

Carol nibbled her bottom lip as she contemplated the news. Her face slowly broke into a giant grin. “You really think I can do this?”

CJ nodded.

“Okay then.”

“Thank god,” CJ groaned, “I couldn’t face having to find someone I didn’t like so much. I’ll leave hiring assistants to you and Toby.” She stood and headed for the door. “So, you wanna come see Rachel?”

Carol smiled and followed her out of the room.

********************************************

John wasn’t quite sure what he was most nervous about. The standing beside the President on Pebble Beach as the cameras clicked or the endless questions that were going to be fired his way.

Nancy was hovering beside him, Leo at her side, looking far more relaxed than he felt. Something in the ease with which they communicated made him wonder if Leo’s reasons for suggesting her were purely professional but he shrugged it off as CJ approached.

He wasn’t sure if she had grown into the role of First Lady over the past few days or whether somewhere in the midst of meeting him, marrying him and the President’s announcement she had adapted. All he really knew was she looked beautiful and capable, and he realized that out on the steps it was her that was going to get him through this day.

“The President’s on his way,” she announced quietly, smiling at him and casting a glance at the rest of the party gathered.

“Do you think the Press has any idea what’s going on?” he asked dryly, peering out of the window and noting the omnipresent Press Corp.

CJ turned her attention back to him. “I’m sure Simon’s leaked it, softened the ground. Otherwise the networks wouldn’t be showing it live.”

“Right.”

“John,” she whispered, applying the gentlest pressure to his lower arm. “I love you.”

That was it, the one small reassurance he needed, the thing that would make it all worthwhile.

“I love you too.”

“Okay, guys, break’s over,” a voice boomed, heading towards them. “CJ, wipe that grin off your face.”

CJ grinned widely in his direction and rolled her eyes.

“Nancy, you look wonderful,” Jed commented, coming to a halt and checking his entourage was in tow. “Anyone out there?” he asked, smirking.

“Just a few . . hundred,” CJ replied, catching sight of the regulars chatting.

“Let’s not keep them waiting then.”

An agent pushed open the door and Jed motioned for his wife to take his arm. As they stepped out into the sunshine, those gathered on the grass fell silent.

John, with CJ on his arm, stepped out behind and moved to the left of the President. Nancy took her place to his right leaving the Chiefs of Staff to hover in the background.

Jed waited until everyone was settled before rustling his sheaf of papers and checking to ensure Toby, Sam and Josh were nearby. He nodded once before focusing on a camera in the background.

“Good Morning. As I stand on these steps today and address this nation, I am filled with a sense of admiration and devotion. In all the decisions I have made in my public life, I have always tried to do what was best for the Nation. In the past few weeks, after much discussion, and with great sadness, it has become evident to me that I am no longer able to continue to serve this country.“

He paused and took stock of all the shocked faces, staring back at him.

“I have never been a quitter. But as President, I must put the interest of America first, particularly at this time with the problems we face at home and abroad. I will not continue to fight through the months ahead with failing health when our focus should be on the grave problems facing this country.”

Jed paused, and motioned with his head for John to take a step forwards.

John nodded and took a deep breath in readiness for the proverbial to hit the fan. His legs didn’t seem to want to carry him, at the moment when everything he had ever dreamed of was about to come true, and it was only CJ’s hand on his back that propelled him forwards.

“Therefore, I shall resign the Presidency effective at noon on Friday. Vice President Hoynes will be sworn in as President at that hour in the Oval office.”

That had the Press scrambling for pens and for their microphones. A few hands went in the air, but soon fell as it became apparent he had more to say.

John had wanted more time to adjust, and to prepare, but discussions between the two staff had made it clear that it needed to be done, swiftly and cleanly. Friday was the earliest day that the leading members of Congress could be ready for the ceremony. As he surveyed the crowd, John had to smile, his wife, for once, had been wrong. Simon had not leaked the story so well.

“As I recall the high hopes for America with which we began this second term, I feel a great sadness that I will not be here in this office working on your behalf to achieve those goals in the next fifteen months. But in turning over direction of the Government to Vice President Hoynes, I know, that the leadership of America will be in good hands.”

Jed waited a beat.

“In passing this office to the Vice President, I also do so with the profound sense of the weight of responsibility that will fall upon his shoulders and, therefore, of the understanding, the patience, the cooperation he will need from all Americans. As he assumes that responsibility, he will deserve the help and the support of all of us.”

The, soon to be former, staffers shared an apprehensive smile as the President tucked his hands into his pocket and moved onto the D section. His words, as was to be expected, came from the heart and not the page before him.

“I will be eternally thankful to those who have stood with me during my term. My beloved family. My friends. My staff. And to many others who joined in supporting my cause because they believed it was right. So, let us all now join together in affirming that common commitment and in helping our new President succeed for the benefit of all Americans. I shall leave this office with regret at not completing my term, but with gratitude for the privilege of serving as your President.”

After a beat he continued, ”When I first took the oath of office as President 5 1/2 years ago, I made this sacred commitment, to "consecrate my office, my energies, and all the wisdom I can summon to the cause of peace among nations.” I have done my very best in all the days since to be true to that pledge. As a result of these efforts, I am confident that the world is a safer place today, and that all of our children have a better chance than before of prosperity rather than poverty. This, more than anything, is what I hoped to achieve when I sought the Presidency. This, more than anything, is what I hope will be my legacy to you, to our country, as I leave the Presidency. May God's grace be with you in all the days ahead.”

Jed stepped back from the podium and took John’s hands firmly in his own. Shaking them they smiled as cameras flashed around them. Turning back to their wives they slowly made their way back inside.

Simon took the podium and waved for calm. As it became increasingly obvious that he wasn’t going to get it, he smiled and spoke anyhow. “Ladies and gentlemen. There will be an opportunity later to ask questions and Vice President Hoynes will, I’m sure, address the nation after the swearing in.”

Simon didn’t wait for them to respond, instead he practically ran for the safety of the White House.

John wrapped an arm around his wife and smiled for the cameras. It was one of the rare occasions when he didn’t need to fake how happy he was.

A few minutes earlier he had taken the oath of office in that very room, his wife beside him holding her family bible. Nancy was in the Mural room suffering the same insufferable experience.

The cameramen confabbed as the former President stepped out of the shadows. Taking John’s hand firmly in his own, Jed pasted a smile on his face and posed as the next set of flashes went off.

What John really wanted was to be alone with his wife, then to get down to work but he willingly made the PR sacrifice that taking the job entailed.

He really was the President. President John Hoynes.

He noted CJ with Abbey in the corner and marvelled at how relaxed she was. The two women had been chatting all week, discussing the pros and cons of the role of First Lady, no doubt. He didn’t really have the nerve to ask the President for advice and he wouldn’t have taken it anyhow. This, he resolved, was his time to make a difference, to make the job his own.

Lesley waved from the corner and tapped her watch.

John sighed and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen. There will be time for more photos at the reception,” he said. Not adding, by which time my wife will be on her third outfit of the day. “But for now I have a speech to deliver.”

After much rustling the group dispersed leaving John, his wife and a single camera crew.

“Go get um, honey,” CJ whispered as she straightened his tie and kissed his cheek. Grinning, she wiped the lipstick mark from his cheek and headed into the outer office to watch with everyone else.

John took his seat behind the desk and focused on the camera.

“You have a little glare, Mr. President,” the make up girl said, coming up and patting his forehead with a sponge.

John inwardly smiled; there were just some things he would never get used to.

“Right, we’re about to go live, in five, four. . .”

Live with every station in the country, to billions of people, in every state, across the world. He hoped somewhere in Nevada his son would be watching and have a least a little admiration for his father.

John smiled at the camera and began his short speech. He didn’t want to do a full national address, that would come in the State of the Union in January, for now he wanted people to feel their country was safe in his hands, that he would tackle the issues that mattered -- Education, Welfare, Crime, Economic growth.

As the camera faded he let out the breath he had been holding and pulled off his microphone.

It was nearly midnight when John said goodbye to the last guest and headed upstairs to the residence.

It had been a long day, not helped by a lack of sleep the night before. He chalked that down to nerves, the possibility he would fluff his lines, forget his address or his stomach would rumble during it all. And the fact that CJ had wanted sex, just one last time, in the Observatory. Of course, being CJ, nothing was simple, and they had ended up in the kitchen, making human sundaes.

So on top of a long active night, he had also had to swear an oath, give a national address, host a reception for hundreds of dignitaries and find time to check in on his daughter. Not bad for his first day.

John nodded to the two agents outside his bedroom and wondered whether they were going to stay for the duration. God help them, was all he could say, Claudia was certainly a screamer.

Opening the door he stepped into the bedroom and crossed to the bed. Leaning in gently, he pressed his lips to CJ’s temples and wrapped the covers tighter around her sleeping form. Silently he moved the chair over and settled down to watch her sleep a while, enjoying that one small indulgence.

**********************

John rolled over and draped an arm over his wife’s sleeping body. Opening one eye he smiled at the hint of her red silk nightgown peeking out above the covers. Gently he shifted his body closer and lifted her hair off her neck. He stared at the exposed flesh briefly before covering it with his lips.

CJ mumbled in her sleep and pushed the covers off with her hands.

John started to kiss his way down her neck and across her collarbone, stopping each time she mumbled. He was slowly making his way across the back of her gown when she turned away from him.

“John.”

“Honey, it’s Saturday,” he whispered, brushing her hair from the back of her neck and nipping the skin.

“I can’t,” she said, groaning.

“Why? It’s not your time, is it?” he grumbled, continuing to toy with her skin.

CJ opened her eyes and straightened her back. “No.” She sighed audibly. “It’s just, it doesn’t feel right. Not in someone else’s bed.”

John ceased kissing and opened his other eye. “Someone else’s bed?”

“Yeah. They slept here. Abbey and the President. They. . .” CJ trailed off and rolled over to face him. “It’s just too icky.”

“I’m sure someone changed the sheets,” John tried, his eyes falling to her cleavage barely showing above the silk.

“John,” she cried, pulling herself up until she was sitting. “We need a new bed, or at least a new mattress.”

He stared at her and inwardly groaned. “I’ll speak to a steward and get our mattress moved from the Observatory. I’m not sure what Nancy’s gonna sleep on, though.”

CJ grinned and stroked his cheek. “I think they can get her a bed from somewhere. Besides Leo’s not going to mind where they sleep.”

John’s jaw dropped. “I don’t need to know that.”

“No, what you need, is a cold shower,” CJ teased, lifting the bed sheet.

“We could just use one of the other bedrooms,” John pouted, pulling the sheet from her fingers.

“And leave the staff waiting? I don’t think so, Rodeo. Go on, shower,” she instructed, grinning and climbing out of the bed. “I’m also going to move Rachel’s room. I hate her being at the other end of the corridor.”

Pulling on a robe she headed for the door. “And Mr. President, don’t be too late tonight, will ya?” she called behind her, slipping the robe and gown off of her shoulder to reveal more than a glimpse of the curve of her breast.

John groaned and threw back the covers, before heading to the bathroom.

*********************

In a dark navy suit and his hair immaculate John Hoynes, President of the United States headed through the bustling corridors. He smiled and nodded to everyone as they rose to their feet or parted to let him through.

His ever-constant detail scanned the halls even more carefully than usual.

John entered the West Wing and took a detour through the bullpens, checking on his staff and greeting familiar faces.

His Press Secretary, Lesley, was already sat behind her desk, reading through a stack of briefing papers on her desk. Her assistant sat in the outer office collating the previous day’s press coverage.

The Deputy Chief of Staff was absent from his office. The guy’s name he still couldn’t remember but his credentials had been good and Tim seemed to think he’d be an asset in the campaign.

John paused outside the Communications Department and refrained from entering. The freshmen staff all looked ready to snap at any time and Laura was yelling at the top of her voice. He chuckled as the Director threw his hands in frustration and wondered briefly if it was the job that had made Toby what he was.

Continuing to his office he was relieved to find Janine at her desk, the speaker phone on as she worked on schedules with someone. She moved to stand and he waved her down before taking the few more steps to the Oval Office.

Yesterday he had stood on the seal and taken the oath. It had been surreal and not quite believable. The speech had gone all too quickly and then they were caught up in celebrations.

Today it was his office, and he would be entering it for the first time as President. This had been his dream for as long as he could remember. Obviously the circumstances were a little different but it didn’t make it any the less auspicious. He stared at the door and for the first time in his life felt somewhat humbled.

“Is everything all right Mr. President?” Janine asked, standing at her desk.

He turned and flashed her one of his killer smiles. “It’s better than all right.”

Although a little daunting, he wanted to add, but personal feelings were not allowed with this job, nor were any signs of weakness.

“There is one thing,” he said, remembering CJ. “Can you organize for the mattress from the Observatory to be sent over?”

“Sir?”

“It’s a long story,” he groaned, his hand on the door.

“Yes, Sir. Staff is in twenty minutes,” she added, picking up the phone.

John opened the door and stepped into the room. He took a deep breath as he surveyed the scene. The desk seemed strangely empty without the endless Bartlet photos and the small paperweights he loved. John planned to rectify that with his wedding picture and one of Rachel at her first birthday party. The one thing that would have to go was the potted plant. He hated the damn things with a vengeance.

Slowly he made his way toward the desk, taking in everything and revelling in the fact that it was going to be his office for at least the next sixteen months.

Pulling the chair out, he lowered himself into it and moved closer to the solid wooden desk. Hands flat on the desk, he allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction.

There was a knock on the door connecting his office with the Chief of Staff’s and slowly it opened to reveal Tim standing there.

“Good morning Mr. President,” he greeted, hovering on the threshold.

“Hey Tim.” John looked up from his desk and nodded in the direction of his friend. “You can come in. How’s your office?”

“Bar the packing cases and Margaret flapping around, it’s fine,” Tim whined.

“Margaret’s here?” John asked, somewhat surprised by Leo’s appendage’s presence.

“She’s on loan until we’re settled.”

John nodded. “So the staff is meeting in here?”

Tim nodded, leaning on the back of a chair. “I thought it would be good for everyone to get over the initial awe.”

“It’s not just me then?”

“Sir?”

“This room is overwhelming at the best of times,” John commented wryly.

“Give it a few weeks, an international crisis, and ten briefings a day and it’ll wear off,” Tim chuckled. “How’s the First Lady settling in?”

It took John a few seconds to realize he was talking about CJ. “Claudia. Tim, call her Claudia when it’s just us. She’s fine, apart from the bed and the nursery.”

“Bed? Nursery?” Tim asked, quizzically.

“You don’t wanna know. Being the leader of the free world is just one of my pre-occupations.”

“Mr. President,” Janine announced, appearing in the doorway. “The rest of the senior staff is waiting for you.”

“Show them in,” John instructed, moving from behind the desk to sit on one of the chairs.

Tim took the other.

The staffers filed in, glancing hesitantly around the room and coming to a halt when they spotted the seal on the carpet.

John grinned and watched amused as they all fell dumbstruck. Yeah, it was definitely an awe-inspiring room.

***********************

CJ closed the nursery door and lowered Rachel to the carpet. As soon as her feet touched the plush, Rachel was off. The staff had been working since Saturday morning on getting the room as CJ wanted and the workmen had just finished off installing the baby monitor and security camera. Now CJ could watch her daughter sleep from the Presidential bedroom.

Rachel toddled as far as the toy box before landing a heap on the floor.

CJ went to take a step but stopped as Rachel got up on her knees and crawled the last few yards. She watched amused as Rachel began to pull the stuffed animals onto the floor.

She had to admit she had been concerned how her daughter would react to the move and to the extra people suddenly thrown into her life. But Rachel seemed to thrive with the added attention.

The First Toddler of the United States gurgled as the nursery door opened and a new face appeared.

“Sorry Ma’am, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

CJ waved him off. She had given up on privacy before she moved into the White House. “Come in.”

“Thank you. I’m going to be part of Little Star’s detail.” He gazed at Rachel and his eyes smiled. “I’m Nick.” He looked momentarily wistful. ”My daughter’s six.”

“Rachel’s eighteen months.” She waited a beat. “If you want to play with her I’d rather you didn’t have your weapon,” CJ commented.

“I left it with the agent outside,” he said, kneeling down beside the toy box. “So, apart from the nanny there are no other care givers?”

“No, although you might find the staff coming to play.”

Rachel had rolled onto her back and was letting the agent tickle her tummy. She shrieked in delight and kept glancing at her mother to ensure it was all right.

CJ grinned back at her in reassurance. Rachel was happy, and for that CJ was grateful. The fact that she was going to have plenty of grown up playmates was another bonus considering there weren’t going to be any siblings.

After Rachel’s birth John had been adamant about wanting more children, CJ had been equally as adamant about not. Now with the President’s resignation John had suggested that they should wait at least a couple of years. By then CJ hoped that he would change his mind or the big change would occur.

“I was just going to take Rachel to see her daddy, would you like to come?” CJ asked, crawling over and picking her daughter up.

“No Ma’am. I’ve already met with the President.”

CJ grinned and lifted Rachel onto her hip. “I’m sure that was an excruciating experience for you.”

Nick nodded and followed her through the door. This, he thought, was going to be the nicest protection detail in the administration.

John sat behind his desk on Air Force One and stared at the polls in front of him. He had spent the day in Iowa, meeting the people and sitting in on a computer class. The Primary had ended barely two hours ago and the result had been less than positive.

Over the holidays two other candidates had entered the race, the Minority Senate leader and a Governor from the Carolinas. And at present the percentages were close.

He knew that his speeches were not as heartfelt as Bartlet’s and that many people were undecided about his ability to lead the country but he had hoped to be making headway.

Tim was interviewing for better speech writers and Laura had been working tirelessly to increase his media exposure.

CJ had stayed in DC to meet with the Women’s Coalition and Nancy to try to generate support there. The campaign was going to be hardest on her he knew. She couldn’t be part of the campaign team, and she certainly didn’t want to upset the staff by offering unwarranted advice. CJ was also going to miss their daughter more and more as the campaign took off and that had been the reason for her quitting work in the first place, to spend more time with Rachel.

John sighed and wondered how he was ever going to make it up to her, to them both. Tossing the results to one side he picked up the first draft of the State of The Union speech and cringed. “This is crap,” he muttered to himself.

Instead of joining his wife in bed when the plane touched down he knew he was going to be stuck in his study trying to fashion some sort of structure for what he considered important. Of course Bartlet hadn’t had that problem, he already knew his staff well before having to make his first speech. Maybe the job wasn’t so easy after all, John thought, crossing out a large section of the speech in red pen.

Toby was hovering in the doorway when CJ looked up from the pile of invitations someone had kindly left on her desk.

“Hey.”

“Ma’am.”

“Toby,” she warned, standing and walking around the desk.

“I was teasing, “ he growled, as his hands found their way into his pockets.

“What’s up friend?”

“Have you spoken to Josh since . . .?”

CJ shook her head and stared out of the window. “ Donna called me before Christmas to wish me happy holidays. I don’t even have the number for the house in Connecticut.”

“But you could get it, right?” Toby asked, looking at her beneath hooded lids.

“You mean call the FBI and drag it out of them? I don’t think my influence extends quite that far,” she grinned. “Is something wrong?”

Toby shuffled nervously. “No, but Josh is a little, . . .he wants to make the first move. . .”

“But he’s too stubborn, arrogant, too much like you?” she added as a afterthought.

“Hey. Be the better man, person,” he corrected. “I’m just off to put my rolodex back in my desk drawer.”

“You could just give me the number,” she called after him, knowing that in loyalty to Josh he wasn’t going to betray the confidence.

CJ waited thirty minutes for her staff to head off to lunch before walking through the East Wing and into Toby’s office. Settling herself at his desk she briefly glanced at the photographs around his wall, noting how many were of her and the others in a different time. Finally she opened his top drawer and flicked through the rolodex. The number was easy to find with the bright yellow post-it note attached.

CJ grinned and picked up the phone. It rang for a matter of seconds before it was answered.

“Lyman residence.”

“Can I speak to Josh please?” CJ asked at the familiar voice.

“CJ? Is that you? Hang on, I’ll get him,” Donna said, followed by her voice bellowing his name through the house.

“Josh Lyman.”

“Mi Amour,” CJ said softly.

The line went quiet and CJ thought he’d put the phone down. “Feminista.”

“So what’s cooking?” CJ asked, more confidently, picking up one of Toby’s pink balls and rolling it around in her fingers. “How’s Donna? How’s New England?” She waited a few seconds before snapping, “And if you call me Ma’am, I’m coming up there to seriously bust your balls.”

“God I’ve missed you,” he admitted, almost unconsciously.

CJ smiled and settled back in Toby’s office chair.

“Things are good,” Josh bounced. “The house needs work but Donna has contractors in. I offered but she said no. Sam is living with us. Donna’s great.” He waited a beat. “We got married.”

“Josh?”

“It was a small ceremony in the town hall, practically no witnesses. We just thought after so long it was crazy to go for the big todo,” he continued to babble.

“Josh. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he conceded, and not wanting to leave an awkward silence continued to ramble on. Finally he paused and almost as an afterthought added, “I’m running for Senate, come November.”

CJ grinned and tossed the ball at the wall. “Well I hope we see you before then.”

“Yeah, of course. You have to go, right? But I didn’t ask you how you were. And Rachel,” he said, dejectedly.

“We can do all that when you come here. Maybe dinner at the White House,” she suggested, hesitantly.

“CJ, I. . .” he started. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a idiot.”

“Yeah, you have, but you’re forgiven.” She smiled with the knowledge he was grinning from ear to ear and hopping around his office. “I’ll speak to you soon.”

Replacing the receiver she hastily scribbled down the number. Later she would encourage John to phone him and offer the support of the party.

It was only a week until Congress expected their President to make his address. John had already read in the region of twenty drafts and none seemed to be anywhere near what he wanted.

The staff were starting to look frazzled.

CJ had assured him over breakfast that it was perfectly normal. She explained that in January the communications staff lived in the West Wing and that more often than not they were forced to start from scratch. John had remained skeptical even when she told him more often than not the final draft wasn’t agreed until moments before.

John had always suspected that the former President and his staff had spent the day of the speech going over technical details not panicking about not having a completed draft. The knowledge that they weren’t as perfect as he’d believed was music to his ears.

The Roosevelt room was packed when John entered. Everyone jumped to their feet and he waved them down as took a seat at the back of the room.

“Right, let’s get this done,” he announced, “Starting with the economy.”

“Okay, here’s what we have,” the Communications Director began. “Once again, our economy is the strongest on earth. Small business is thriving and government is investing in business. The long term goal of this government is to see economic prosperity for everyone. We are working to tackle fraud in the workplace and to improve public services. More over there is a strong commitment to aid a movement from welfare to full employment.”

John scribbled a few notes on his pad and wondered if he could postpone to a later date. The speech was sounding much like the original draft weeks ago. “We need to focus on education. The previous administration started the process and I want to build on that.”

“You don’t want to bring Bartlet’s achievements into the speech, Sir?” Tim asked horrified.

“I was part of the previous administration. I’d like to think I can acknowledge some of the glory for that, “John said, his eyes revealing how tired he was getting of the same old arguments. “We state we want to employ more teachers, to set aside more money in the federal budget for schools, to be divided up on merits. To improve inner city schools. To ensure every child is being taught to read, that there is no more illiteracy.”

John lifted his eyes from the page and looked at the junior staffer who was speaking. “Who wrote that?” he demanded.

“Toby Ziegler.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it was for a proposed speech at the Teacher’s Union rally,” the staffer added.

John ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. He had been toying with the idea for days, ever since Claudia had mentioned it. Some of the staff were going to resent the hell out if the idea but right now desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You aren’t going to like what I’m going to say,” John began, his eyes glancing around the room. “And I can’t quite believe I’m even saying it, but I want to bring Toby in as an advisor.”

A few of the staffers who had been with him all along gave each other indecipherable looks.

“This is the one speech we need to put in the ballpark. It has to scream that we’re in control, that the transition is seamless, and we’re the people to lead this country for another four years.”

John’s eyes went wide eyed as he realized it was his Chief of Staff speaking, defending a Bartlet staffer of all things. He was just going to tell them to screw it and get over it.

“Toby’s been there. He knows how high the bar is and I know he can tap into your individual talents. We don’t get this right, we can forget working here,” Tim continued, watching the President nod encouragingly.

“While Tim goes to ask him, we can get on and discuss the other issues,” John announced, leaning forward.

At Tim’s questionable glance he smiled. “I think this has to come from you my friend.”

John turned back to the packed room. “Right, Crime. We should acknowledge that our streets are safer. Mention a zero tolerance policy, that will have the republicans jumping up in arms. Reclaiming streets from drugs and gangs and crime. Maybe we could discuss encouraging more people to take time out from their own lives to serve others.”

There were a plethora of agreements and comments.

For the next hour they worked their way through the topics that John thought were needed --women, foreign relations, military spending, the environment.

They were just moving on to one of John’s favorite initiatives when Toby entered the room.

“And there has to be a concerted drive for internet access for everyone,” John emphasized.

“The knowledge and power of the information age will be within reach not just to the few, but of every classroom, every library, every child. Parents and children will have time not only to work but to read and play together. And the plans they make at their kitchen table will be those of a better home, a better job, the certain chance to go to college, “ Toby said, entering the room and standing against the wall.

John nodded in his general direction to acknowledge him before turning in his seat to the rest of the room. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

For five months John had flown around the country, CJ by his side, trying to win the primaries.

On the East coast he had done well, winning each one, including, much to his surprise, New Hampshire. Something to do with the Bartlet’s influence he suspected.

In the south he had come second to the governor from the Carolinas, and on two occasions third. Which he had mostly expected. Winning Texas had come as a shock but it seemed Texans rather liked the idea of having one of their own in power. Not even the electoral math could explain why those same people hadn’t voted for him in the two previous elections, but that was the whole thing about elections, you never really knew.

On the West Coast things became a little close to call. The percentages were evenly split between John and the Minority leader.

Two weeks before Illinois the Minority Leader dropped out. No one was really sure why. The usual spiel, about family commitments, didn’t seem to have much pull and it was only later, that John discovered the man was diagnosed with a life threatening illness and didn’t want to put his family through the media invasion.

The two-man race became even closer in Illinois and it was only California’s decisive college that handed John the nomination. At least that was the way his campaign team thought. Of course there were still those members that would cast at the Convention.

All in all by the time the First Family returned from California they were tired and weary of campaigning, and it looked very much like it was going to be one of the hardest fought campaigns of all time.

Now that the primaries were over CJ was enjoying being back in the White House. It meant she could slip upstairs every afternoon to the Residence and spend a few minutes playing with her daughter. And more often than not Rachel ended up in her office while the staff wandered in and out.

Sighing, CJ walked over to the French doors and opened them wide. The heat in the office was stifling. In fact the whole building was something of a furnace. The last few days she had taken to discarding the jacket and, much to the Service’s disgust, had taken to sleeping with the windows open. The worse thing was the constant tiredness. She had even started snapping at the staff, and more disconcertedly, the President.

John had tried to cheer her up by taking out to the Willard for dinner. The meal was wonderful and, as always, the service fantastic. When they had gotten home John had been in a romantic mood and she found herself totally uninterested.

Now, as she stood staring at the grounds, she realized it was probably the menopause coming early. Her periods hadn’t been regular for months and then with the stress of the campaign and the change in lifestyle she couldn’t remember the last one. Sighing she moved back to her desk and aimlessly flicked through her schedule, wondering if she could skip the dinner that evening.

***

The agents stopped outside the bedroom door as CJ entered and closed the door behind her. She managed a few steps as far as the bed and clutched her stomach.

It had been happening all day, the stomach cramps that were the normal precursor of her period. Climbing on the bed she kicked off her shoes and rolled herself into a ball.

Suddenly she straightened up as a stabbing pain hit her lower back. Her shrill scream brought the agents running into the room, their hands on their weapons.

The only female agent on the detail rushed to her side and her voice was low when she spoke. “Ma’am, what’s wrong?”

CJ gazed at her as tears filled her eyes and rubbed her side.

“Someone get the doctor up here,” the agent yelled. “And find the President.”

“He’s in Philadelphia,” someone called.

“It’s okay,” CJ mumbled, reaching for Kate’s hand.

By the time the doctor arrived Kate had sent the agents out of the room and was holding CJ’s hand, talking to her soothingly.

“Ma’am. Where does it hurt?” the young navy medic asked.

“My back, cramps. Bad period pain,” CJ groaned.

“When was your last period?”

CJ looked down to the suddenly stained sheets. The sight of so much blood had her panicked.

“Ma’am, I want to admit you to hospital,” he said, taking her pulse.

“What’s wrong?” CJ cried, her eyes darting around in panic.

He shook his head and motioned Kate to follow him. “I’m not sure,” he said, when they were alone. “I think it might be a miscarriage.”

Kate looked back at the bed and towards the door. “Ambulance?”

“No, car will be faster. I’ll phone ahead.”

“Okay,” Kate agreed, walking into the corridor. “We need to secure Georgetown Memorial. Harry, get Toby Ziegler to meet us at the door. And someone inform the President.”

****

The unmarked suburban arrived at the hospital in under twenty minutes and the detail hustled CJ inside by the service entrance. The medical team had her settled in a private room shortly after.

Toby sat by her side, holding her hand, and watching as the nurses drew blood and ran tests. “John’s on his way.”

CJ nodded and started a fresh set of tears.

“Mrs. Hoynes,” a man greeted her, his name badge identifying him as Dr. Brown. “How do you feel now?”

“The pain killers are kicking in.”

“That’s good. And you are?”

Toby told him who he was and, in no uncertain terms, told him he was staying.

The doctor smiled. “Fine. We think you’ve had what’s known as a spontaneous abortion.”

Toby gripped her hand tighter.

“A miscarriage. In a little while we’ll know whether we need to do a D and C.” He paused as she closed her eyes. “Your husband has been told, and we’re keeping him informed of your progress. For now you need complete bed rest.” He glanced at Toby. “The Press is bombarding the hospital.”

“Direct them to the White House Press Office. They can hang themselves before they get a comment,” Toby growled.

“Yes, that’s being done.”

After he had left, Toby moved to sit on the edge of the bed and held his arms out for her.

CJ struggled to sit up and leaned against his chest, her voice racked with sobs. “We decided not to have any more children. To at least wait. Toby, I didn’t want another baby. I love Rachel but. . . Rachel?”

“Ssh, she’s fine. It’s not your fault,” he whispered against her hair.

“But I didn’t want to be pregnant. I haven’t been careful. God, Toby. I’ve been drinking at every function across the country,” she cried, her voice breaking.

“You didn’t know. I’m no expert but these things happen, 40-60% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, “ Toby offered gently, glancing round as the door opened. He nodded as the President entered, and extracted himself from her arms. “CJ.”

She opened her eyes and started to cry louder as she saw her husband.

“Claudia, I’m here.”

Toby slipped out of the room as he watched John try to console his wife.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ssh.” John held her tightly, his voice so soft it was inaudible. He wanted to make things right but as CJ continued to sob uncontrollably, he didn’t have a clue, for once, how to do it.

************************

CJ stayed in hospital for three days. By the time the agents bundled her out of the back door and whisked her back to the White House, the press had been informed of the couple’s loss.

The announcement was brief and the editorial pieces, that followed, offered sympathy and the age-old wisdom that it would get easier and that they could have more children.

As CJ sat in the residence reading the various papers Carol sent up to her she wasn’t sure how to react. She really hadn’t wanted another child. As much as she adored Rachel, there had only been the plan to have one. Somewhere deep inside her she blamed herself. Losing her child was God’s punishment for not wanting it. And that was something she could never rectify.

CJ also felt like she’d lost some part of her, of them both. The country seemed to think the first couple should have more children and all their support and flowers was just making things worse.

After two more days in the residence, playing with her daughter and resting CJ went back to work.

As her assistant tried to cut back her workload, Toby increased it. She was hurting, he knew, more than she realised or was willing to admit. He wasn’t about to let her sit and brood and make matters worse.

As the first weeks turned into a month CJ threw herself into work, taking on more than she had to as First Lady. Her days became longer and the afternoon visits with Rachel all but disappeared. Instead she focused on helping others and making up for depriving the country of a baby.

John was spending more time at work. They spoke to each other more on the telephone than face to face and that convinced her even more that he blamed her for everything.

The people who knew her best picked up on her grief and self-blame but hoped that it would be her husband that would help her.

In the end it was Leo who proved to be the saviour. He arrived at her office one afternoon and hovered in the doorway, watching her work. She looked, as always, businesslike and professional but something in her body language told him something was wrong. Instead of leaving, he cleared his throat and waited for to look up.

CJ smiled, but it never quite made her eyes and he knew then his intuition had been right.

“Leo.”

“Claudia Jean,” he said softly, as she walked around the desk to hug him. Leo tightened his grip for a few minutes before releasing her. “How are you doing?” he asked staring into her eyes.

“I’m fine. Busy, but you know what it’s like,” she said, dismissively.

“You may be able to lie to everyone else . . .” he started.

“I really am fine. It’s an election year.” She tried to force a smile.

“Crap,” he grumbled.

“Leo!”

“We’ve all been there, CJ. The self deprivation, the anger, the denial, until finally it falls apart,” he explained. “My addictions, Jed’s father, Josh’s breakdown.”

“This isn’t like that.”

“Have you grieved?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said quickly.

“You haven’t, and you won’t because now you’re in that denial stage. That silent solitary existence that will eventually lead you to a worse place than you already are.”

CJ shook her head and tried to pull away.

“You have to talk to someone,” Leo pushed. “A professional.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes betraying how much she needed someone to take care of her.

“I’ve spoken to Stanley. He has a friend who specialises in bereavement counselling. She’s coming down to meet you,” he said firmly. “I’ll have your assistant clear some time.”

“Leo, I . . .” she pleaded.

He took a step and wrapped his arms around her again. “You know you need to, for you, for Rachel.”

CJ clung to him as she cried.

**********************************

It had been two weeks since he had received the call to come back from Pennsylvania.

The next thing he remembers is walking into the hospital room and finding CJ in Toby’s arms. It had been a long night for John. CJ had sobbed until she had fallen asleep. In amidst her cries had been rambles of blame and guilt and her love for Rachel. In the first few hours he had pushed his own thoughts to one side and been her rock.

Later, as he checked in on Rachel, he had felt his own grief at what could have been. Having another child had always been on the plan. After the election when they were more settled, when Rachel was older. CJ, he had hoped would come around and then their family would be complete.

He certainly hadn’t expected to be so angry that someone had deemed it right to take his child. His anger had manifested wherever he went. Congress’ stalling and verbal attacks made him determined and more committed to the least important of issues. With his staff he remained composed, the same strong personality they knew. In public he was the unwavering politician.

It was only when he was alone that he thought about the baby and CJ and Rachel, and then only when no one else was around to witness his raw emotion. The series of broken vases in his study in the Residence should have been an indication to someone he wasn’t dealing with it well.

The hardest thing was the public sympathy and support for CJ. The endless words of wisdom and hope. No one seemed to think he was just as upset or needed someone. But as President he wasn’t a man anymore, he was the job and the job didn’t have feelings.

He loved CJ, and after a few days he couldn’t bear to see how much she was hurting. Instead he worked longer hours and scheduled more campaign stops. The only thing he wouldn’t do was stay out over night. He couldn’t admit to anyone that he was scared that if he wasn’t there something would happen to those he loved.

In the end he tried to ignore what had happened and concentrated on the campaign and his job. The more he worked, the more tired and irritated he got, the worse his grief became until everyone around him felt his lashing out.

“You have to stop shouting at everyone,” CJ said, pushing open the door to the Oval Office.

The Chief of Staff jumped up from his chair and excused himself rapidly.

“You yelled at the chef because he made the wrong sauce last night. Janine was in tears because you snapped at her over your schedule.” She placed her hands on her hips. “And we won’t even start on the way you’re treating me.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he retorted before looking up at her. “I don’t shout at you.”

“No, you avoid me, work late, leave early, and when that doesn’t work you treat me like china,” she explained, her voice rising.

“You lost a baby,” he said quietly.

“I know. And it hurts. But the one thing I’ve learnt is not to bottle up how I feel. And working all hours doesn’t make it go away, it just makes the nights worse,” she admitted softly.

“Claudia, I . . .”

“For Christ’s sake, John. This is me, you’re talking to. I’m your wife, not your staff, not the press. Me, Claudia. Don’t push me away,” she shouted, not caring who heard her.

“I haven’t,” he sighed, standing and walking around his desk to lean against the front of it. “The campaign’s not going well. I’m going to win the nomination by a fraction and I’m stuck on 43 percent approval rating. There’s a lot to do.”

“Fine. Meanwhile you’re hurting and everyone around here is getting the brunt of it.” She took a step closer and he flinched. “I don’t want you to be tough and strong. I want you to show me your feelings. You have to grieve. If you don’t it’s going to tear you up inside.”

“Claudia,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I’m okay.”

“God dammit.”

“This isn’t the place for this conversation,” John tried softly.

“I know. But as you refuse to be in the same room as me, it’s impossible to have this conversation.”

“Once the Convention’s over with we’ll spend some time together,” he tried, hoping to steer her out of his office. “And we’ll talk.”

He watched in silence as she turned her back on him.

“I want to go away for the weekend,” CJ announced, standing at the French doors.

“It’s not a good time.”

“Crap. The convention’s not for a month. Two days isn’t going to lose the campaign,” CJ snapped, turning to glare at him.

“Where do you want to go? The ranch?” he asked to placate her.

“We’ve been invited to Manchester,” she replied, her voice lighter than he had heard in weeks. “Everyone’s going to be there.”

“Oh god.”

“Leo, Josh and Sam. We can relax and spend some time together,” she added, her smile reaching her eyes.

“How about Camp David?”

“The Farm. For me.” She took a step towards him and stopped. “These aren’t people who we need to pretend in front of. They are our friends. We’ll have all the space we need.”

“Claudia.”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, but if you won’t do this, I’m not sure you have my support anymore,” she said, praying that blackmail would work.

“You’d ruin my campaign,” he asked incredulous.

“No. But an image of me flying into Concord alone probably would,” she offered, sadly. “Come with me.”

Her voice reached inside him and he knew that she was trying to save him. That maybe she wasn’t the piece of china he imagined her to be.

“It hurts,” he said softly.

“Yeah.”

He felt her hand slip into his before he looked up into her eyes.

“I’m going to get Janine to cancel your appointments. Let’s go upstairs and talk,” she said, squeezing his hand.

His nod was subtle but she caught it. Somewhere inside of her she knew they were going to come through it.

The last week in October was manic.

John awoke at four am on the Monday morning and groaned when he noticed CJ was already gone. He opened the bedroom door, ignored the agents on duty, and took the few steps into the nursery.

CJ was leaning in over the crib, singing tenderly to Rachel.

They wouldn’t be back until Friday night, and he knew she hated the idea of spending five days apart from her. He wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea either. No amount of security or childcare was going to make him feel at ease. John watched for a minute or two before crossing to stand next to CJ.

CJ looked up and smiled. “I was just saying goodbye.”

“I had a hunch.”

“You need to get ready, it’s after four,” CJ chided, quietly.

“I came to say goodbye too. Besides Air Force One is hardly going to leave without us.” He reached down and tucked a single curl behind Rachel’s ear before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Sleep well Little Star. Daddy’ll see you soon.”

Tearing himself away he walked to the door and waited for CJ to say her goodbyes. Holding out his arms he welcomed her into his embrace as the tears streamed down her face.

After a few moments she pulled away and glared up at him. “Now I’m going to have to redo my make up.”

“I have a better idea,” he whispered, unbuttoning her jacket.

“John!”

“Guys, let them know we’re running late,” John instructed the detail before slamming the bedroom door and dragging his wife into the shower.

***********************

Once they boarded Air Force One their time was no longer their own.

In five days they visited ten states, attended rallies, dinners, run down areas, women’s shelters and even an Internet café.

The nanny patiently took their calls as they phoned from cars, hotels and even washrooms, as they checked in every chance they could. When they didn’t Toby, or Carol or even Tim picked up their cell and spent five minutes inquiring after the toilet habits of the toddler.

CJ and John slipped easily into the schedule, having been there before. This time however there really didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day, and far too many people that needed just a moment of their time.

It was two am on Saturday morning when CJ crawled into the king size bed on Air Force One and fell asleep almost immediately. John joined her ten minutes later, vowing to spend a little family time over the weekend. Of course he knew it was impossible but it was a nice dream.

It was election night. Televisions seemed to be on all around the West Wing, all flicking between C-Span and CNN. Midnight had long since come and gone in California and now they were waiting for the states to call.

John was pacing between his office and the Roosevelt room where the communications staff were tracking polls and coverage and making phone calls to god knows who.

Briefly he had slipped upstairs to check on his daughter, needing a moment of sanity when the rest of the world was going insane. Just looking at her, with her tiny curls and her thumb in her mouth had given him a sense that the world was going to be all right. Reluctantly he had had to return downstairs and back to the madness that was his White House.

The first thing he noticed was Toby on the phone in the corridor, Carol clutching his hand and CJ’s at the same time.

“Hey,” he called, approaching them and waiting for the detail to come to a halt. “What’s going on?”

“Sam’s on the phone,” CJ hissed, motioning for him to hush.

“Yeah, yeah, really,” Toby growled, the sides of his mouth turning upwards. “He did?” Toby shouted, flinging his arms around the two women.

John did a double take; not fully believing it was the same Toby.

“Who did?” John asked, perplexed.

“Mr. President. Josh is Senator elect for Connecticut,” Toby announced, waving his phone and kissing Carol firmly on the mouth.

CJ looked at John hesitantly and back at her staff practically making out.

John took the phone and held it to his ear. “Sam, get Josh for me.”

Toby forgot all about the call as he held Carol away from him and looked into her eyes. “So?”

“So what?”

“Wanna get married?” Toby asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Carol choked and glanced at CJ, who was grinning nearly as wide.

“Took him long enough,” CJ shrugged.

“I just wanted to say congratulations Senator Lyman. I’m very happy for you. We look forward to seeing you in Washington come January,” John said, sincerely. “Now I know Claudia wants to speak to you but I’m going to put Toby on with some news of his own.”

John turned back to CJ. “I need to check in with Tim. I’ll see you later.” He walked away as he heard Carol shout yes and Toby’s equally enthusiastic announcement on the phone.

The atmosphere in the Roosevelt room was less enthused. The states had begun calling and so far the results were not going well. It was going to be tight. And quite possibly not in the democrats favor.

The good news was that it looked like it was going to be a democratic majority in Congress.

Most of the staff were looking downcast. Most had open beer bottles and were mentally wondering whether they could find a job in the District.

The television wasn’t helping, declaring that the republicans had won the White House after eight years. The electoral math it seemed just wasn’t going their way. When the coverage from Bartlet’s first election night came on John wandered back to his office.

“You’re giving up?” CJ asked incredulously, following him.

John looked up from his desk. “My staff seem to think it’s over,” he sighed.

“Then they don’t know you like I do. Beside exit polls don’t tell you squat.”

“They corrected predicted the results in the 2003 election.”

“Polls can tell you what you want. Ask Joey Lucas,” CJ said, jumping up onto his desk and swinging her legs.

“You’re trying to cheer me up,” he said, smiling.

“Yep, I’m the moral officer. It’s a beautiful sunrise,” CJ said wistfully, running her fingers up his lapels. “You know we haven’t christened this room yet.”

John chuckled and stroked her thigh through the stockings. “I think it’s a little risky tonight, don’t you? Laura was right, the First Lady should wear skirts more,” he added, running his fingers up beneath the fabric.

CJ stilled his hand and tilted his face to look at her. “It’s going to be okay. Call it woman’s intuition. But God wouldn’t have put us through so much if we weren’t going to get some reward.”

“You sound like Catherine,” he admitted, glancing at the tiny silver frame on the corner of his desk.

“Well maybe you should listen to both of us,” CJ admonished, following his gaze. “What ever happens we’ll take a weekend and go to the ranch.”

“Thank you,” he whispered as there was a knock at the door and Toby appeared.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he growled, turning his back to them. “It isn’t good news.”

“Turn around. I’m fully dressed and John’s hands are visible,” CJ smirked.

Toby spun around but continued to talk to his shoes. “Shallick just took Texas. CNN are still calling it his way. California is the clincher.”

John ran his fingers through his head and scratched the back of his head. “Optimism, right?”

“Positive thinking,” CJ reiterated, standing up to pull her skirt to her knees.

“I’m guessing it won’t be long,” John called, looking out from behind CJ.

“Half an hour,” Toby muttered.

“I was talking about the wedding,” John grinned. “There are more important things than elections, you know?”

“There are?” Toby asked, the slightest twitch of his lips apparent.

“Yeah, like good women,” he answered, taking CJ’s hand. “Take good care of Carol.”

“Um, yeah.”

“Right, let’s go,” John announced, striding forwards and indicating they should follow.

They reached the Roosevelt room as a deathly hush was filling it.

“We can now go live to the State Legislature in Sacramento, California. Murray, what’s happening there?” The television blurted.

“The governor is just about to take the stage. The result apparently is a landslide. Though no one‘s saying for which candidate.” Murray turned his back as a figure appeared on the stage.

“I, James Hampton, Governor of the State of California, do hereby call the state of California for . . . John Hoynes.”

The rest of the newscast was drowned out as the room went wild. The staff were jumping up and down and swinging each other in the air. Laura collapsed in a chair and waited for the President to prepare for his speech.

John reached out his right hand and smiled as he felt CJ’s slip into it. Tugging gently he pulled her round to face him and cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I love you.“

“I love you too, “ CJ whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding on tightly.

Oblivious to everyone around them John leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. At the first touch he deepened the kiss and dropped her hand. With both hands at her face he kissed her passionately as cameras clicked around them, giving them the front-page picture.

The End