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MY GUESTBOOK
�Yep,� Donna nodded. �Well, no, actually I don�t. Four hours isn�t really enough time to pack for this kind of thing, especially when my apartment is still under the control of the borderline paranoid woman from Treasury, and November in DC isn�t exactly prime time to find a bathing suit and things like that, but I figure I can get what I don�t have already once we get there,� she said, talking faster than normal. �Anyway, I should go,� she continued, taking her rolling suitcase away from CJ.
Donna kissed both of us on the cheek and promised to call when they got in�there were no phone restrictions on Donna, though she knew Josh wasn�t allowed to call anyone other than his mother and, in certain circumstances, me�and then she disappeared through the doors as well.
�So� they�re off,� CJ said lamely.
I nodded and, without a word, CJ and I headed out of the building.
�Before, with the President� what was that about, the seeing the whole board thing?� CJ asked as we left the airport. She and I�and her Secret Service protection�were going to get something to eat, both of us hoping that our cell phones wouldn�t go off in the middle of the meal.
I handed the keys to the rental over to CJ�s driver. He was going to drive my car to the restaurant while CJ�s agent drove her car with the two of us in the back so that we would both have vehicles at the restaurant and I wouldn�t have to pay for more parking time than I needed to. It was a thoroughly complex system that had taken Margaret and the Secret Service half an hour to figure out and I wasn�t about to mess with it. For all I knew Margaret had gotten NATO commanders involved and I wasn�t exactly in a good position to piss them off.
�Remember when Bartlet came back from India with all those chess sets from the Prime Minister?� I asked.
�Of course. The FAA didn�t want to let us take off until they were placed all along the length of Air Force One because they were making the plane list or something,� CJ replied.
CJ had complained for two hours about the wait to take off when she had gotten back from India. She claimed that that flight was worse than the one home from Stockholm in Bartlet�s second year in office. Apparently the history of chess was worse than listening to the history of the Fjords while suffering from a head cold not made better by a trans-Atlantic flight. Of course, CJ didn�t threaten to dress the President up in lederhosen and drop-kick him into a Fjord after India, so I was always pretty sure that the Stockholm trip was worse, but, seeing as I wasn�t there for either trip I never voiced my opinion on the matter.