"You're telling me that after spending two weeks at the Bartlet farm you didn't find out anything that is going to help us in our quest to bring Jed Bartlet to his knees."

Jean Paul de Bourbon leaned back in his chair. He was back in his Georgetown apartment. "That's not what I said. My mission was to find out what it would hurt Jed Bartlet most to lose. To find out what exactly is his Achilles heel. I can't help it if you didn't like what I had to say."

"You're sure that Bartlet does not have a bit of fluff on the side. Someone it would not only hurt him to lose but also cause him public embarrassment when the relationship came out in the open?" The thick Middle Eastern accent of the other man had a decidedly British inflection to it.

"I told you. His little bit of fluff is his wife. There is no other woman. If we want to hurt Jed Bartlet it's going to mean getting at Abigail Bartlet and their children."

"Damn" Ahmad Falud swore. He was hoping against hope to find a mistress in Jed Bartlet's life. Somebody it would be easy take. Somebody it would not only hurt the President to lose but that would cause him embarrassment and ruin him politically and within his family. This change of plans was not going to be an easy one. It was certainly not going to be easy to get at Abigail Bartlet or the Bartlet children. It was going to require time, time and a lot of planning. But, it would happen. Jed Bartlet was going to pay for his crimes against Islam. He was going to pay for killing Abdul Shareef. He was going to be destroyed�annihilated� and now they knew just how to go about doing that. If destroying Jed Bartlet meant taking away his wife and children and allowing him to know that he was the cause of their torture and death then that was exactly what they were going to have to do.

****

"According to my press corps you have every designer in the world at your beck and call. All you have to do is crook your little finger and they'll come running to dress you." CJ turned in her seat to look at the First Lady.

"You're point?" Abbey asked, examining her manicure.

"My point is, if that's the case, why are we in a small motorcade winding through the streets of Georgetown to go shopping for Inaugural ball gowns."

"First of all, I'm not shopping for an Inaugural ball gown. I've already chosen and been fitted for that."

"Then, what exactly are we doing today?"

"I need more than just an Inaugural ball gown. I need a whole Inaugural wardrobe. There is the CBS gala, the children's gala, and the thing for HBO, and I need a new suit for the Inauguration itself. So, today, you and I are having a girl's day out. We haven't had one of those in ages, and frankly CJ, I think you could use one. You spend entirely too much time with the boys."

"Are you calling me a whore, ma'am?"

Abbey looked at CJ with surprise and seeing the humor in the other woman's eyes she burst into laughter. "Hardly. I'm saying you don't spend enough time nurturing your feminine side. And YOU still need a ball gown. This year I intend to see that you buy one that will knock everyone's socks off."

"I'm hardly the type to knock socks off. That's your department, ma'am."

"See, now that's where you're wrong. If you don't think sexy, you aren't sexy. It's all in attitude. And knock off the ma'am. Today we're just CJ and Abbey shopping in Georgetown." Abbey glanced up as an agent opened the sedan door for her and she stepped out into the cold January morning.

"Just CJ and Abbey," CJ muttered as she stepped out of the car on to the sidewalk in front of some of Georgetown's most exclusive boutiques. "With three cars, two police cruisers and a dozen secret service agents."

For the next few hours the two women tried on clothes, Abbey ignoring CJ's preferences of pale earth tones and below the knee length skirts, handing her instead vibrant colors and much higher hemlines for work.

"I don't know, Abbey." CJ turned in front of the mirror admiring the turquoise suit. "I have to get up in front of the press like this."

"CJ, I know how tough it is to be a female in what has been considered a man's profession but just because you have a man's job doesn't mean you have to try to strip yourself of any femininity. I mean, that's what breaking glass ceilings is all about, isn't it? We can still fight for equality and the right to do what are deemed "men's" jobs but we don't have to stop being women to achieve that goal. You can be professional and attractive, there's no law against that."

"But if we don't sort of blend into the woodwork then we aren't taken as seriously."

"We can't cave in to that kind of pressure. We have to be who we are and MAKE them take us seriously. I watch you in your press conferences quite often. Standing in front of the press you're professional, completely in control and brimming with confidence but when you come off that stage put a ball gown on and walk into a state dinner I've seen that confident mantle fall right off your shoulders."

CJ eyed Abbey who had just stepped out of the dressing room wearing a sleek curve hugging peacock blue satin dress with a plunging square neckline and a hemline well above her knee. It was designed perfectly to show off her killer legs. CJ knew Abbey was right. There might still be a few people who didn't take Abigail Bartlet seriously but they were few and far between. Abbey was feminine and sexy and every inch a woman, but she was also strong and direct and a force to be reckoned with. Growing up CJ had never had that kind role model. She'd never had the chance to be a girly-girl. Her mother had died before she reached puberty and her father and older brother had no idea of what to do with a gangly, lost little girl. It didn't help that she was a tomboy and that she'd been 5'10 by 6th grade and 6'0 by 8th. The other girls treated her like some kind of freak and no boy wanted to date a girl who was taller than he was by half a foot. At that point she'd figured if she was going to look like a boy, she might as well continue to act like one and she'd remained a tomboy well after most young girls were turning to perfume and make up and talk of bras and boys. She'd always been more comfortable having friendships with men as opposed to women. Friendships with men were easier; they were casual, usually lacking in the emotional department. Being one of the boys was second nature for CJ Cregg. It wasn't that she'd never had women friends but until being forced into close contact with Abbey Bartlet she'd never had a close woman friend. Right from the start Abbey had treated her more like a friend than a press secretary. She'd tried fixing her up on dates and continually urged her to dress with more allure. Thanks to Abbey's persistence she had made strides in that department but was still woefully far behind the First Lady.

The afternoon Abbey had invited her to Harmony Point and opened up to her about the day that she'd been raped had been a turning point in their relationship, the moment that CJ had been accepted into Abbey's small but very tight circle of good trusted female confidants. Having each other in the trenches, so to speak, had been good for both of them.

"I need to lose the bra." Abbey was continuing to eye herself critically in the mirror unable to get a good read on the off the shoulder thinly strapped dress with the black straps of her bra on her shoulders. She unzipped the dress, deftly unhooked her bra and tossed it back into the dressing room she had just vacated.

"So, what do you think now?" Abbey turned back to CJ. The top swells of her breasts were clearly visible and it was quite evident that she was not wearing a bra.

"I'm thinking that I hope you aren't planning to wear that to one of the TV gala's, at least not without a strapless bra."

"Of course not. I was thinking more along of the lines of the Inaugural morning prayer breakfast."

A look of horror crossed over CJ's face, her eyes widening with disbelief. Abbey chuckled softly.

"Kidding, CJ, kidding."

"Oh God, don't do that to me, Abbey. We're still getting flack from some of those dresses you wore in New Orleans."

"Does anyone in this country have a life?" Abbey was now rifling through a rack of brightly colored ball gowns.

"Not the press," CJ grinned. It still amazed her that Abbey Bartlet was, if not completely oblivious, than so very casual about just how attractive that she was and the reaction around the world to that beauty and sexuality. Oh, she knew what she could do to the President all right. CJ had seen that gleam in her eyes when she'd reminded him about special garments or wanting a barbecue in the middle of the day, but she just didn't understand the rest of the world's Abbey obsession.

"Here it is. THIS is the one." Abbey turned to CJ with a scarlet red gown with a deeply plunging neckline.

"Oh, I don't think so. Maybe if I had adult boobs I could get away with wearing that."

"It's all in the presentation. With the right lingerie we can make it look like you have boobs."

"Hey," CJ frowned. "That was a low blow. I may not be a C-cup but I have SOMETHING"

"You know what I meant. Now, go try it on."

A half-hour later, with their purchases made, Abbey dragged CJ to the lingerie department. She immediately began fingering through displays of lacy thongs, satiny demi bras, and silky teddy's. She pulled a red bustier from the rack and turned to CJ.

"What do you think of this?"

"I thought you said your gown was a wine color."

"Not for ME. I already have my underclothes. I promised Jed I'd wear a certain naughty number he bought me at Trashy Diva's when we were in New Orleans."

"Well, at least I didn't get questioned about that one." CJ was well aware of the President's penchant for lingerie shopping for his wife. The press had gotten wind of extensive Victoria's Secret purchases right from the start of his Presidency.

"This is for you. This will push everything up and give the illusion of cleavage. They also have the matching garter belt." Abbey picked it up and twirled it on her finger wiggling her eyebrows.

"Abbey, I don't need sexy underwear. I don't even have a date for the Inaugural balls."

"This isn't about who's going to SEE you in the underwear, as much of a turn on as that can be. It's about how you feel. Wearing sexy lingerie will make you feel sexy and if you feel sexy, you project sexy. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

"Oh, I believe you. I know I'm getting advice from a pro."

Abbey shook her head and tossed the underwear toward CJ before going off on her own to browse. Later, as CJ paid for her purchases she noticed Abbey approaching the counter with an armful of lingerie. At the top of the pile were a sheer red and black lace baby doll teddy, and a matching red and black lace thong, garter belt and fishnet stockings. CJ's brow lifted.

"I thought you already had your underwear for the Inauguration."

"I do," Abbey gave her a saucy grin. "But Valentines Day is just around the corner."

CJ shook her head with laughter. "It's no wonder the President goes through Abbey withdrawal when you're gone."

"Abbey withdrawal?"

"That's what we call it when you're away from the White House and we find the President wandering around the halls of the West Wing at 3 a.m. because he misses you and it's too lonely in the Residence without you."

"I can't believe you guys have a name for it."

"Well, it's pretty prevalent. It's not like it happened once or twice. It happens every time you go away. You're a very lucky woman to have a man like the President love you the way that he does. I envy you that. Sometimes I really wish that I had a man who would look at me the way that the President looks at you. There are times when there is so much softness and affection there, but there are other times when he looks like he could just devour you. I'd love to inspire that kind of emotion in a man, to really belong to someone like that."

"I'd like that for you too, CJ." Abbey squeezed her friend's hand. "I thank God every day for what I have with Jed."

"I guess in order to find something like that I'd have to actually find the right man and the chances of me having the time to meet and fall in love with a man right now in my life are pretty non-existent."

"Don't give up on it, CJ. If you find the right man you've got to go for it. A job is just that, a job, it can disappear at any moment. Your house, your car, your career, everything that you treasure can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. Everything except for love. If you have love in your life you can weather the loss of anything. There is no greater gift than being able to love the person that you were meant to love."

CJ stared at Abbey tears filling her eyes from the honest emotion of her passionate words. For one of the few times in her life she was at a loss for words.

Slightly embarrassed at her vehemence Abbey grabbed her packages. "Sorry, lecture over. Let's go get some lunch."

"Okay." CJ squeezed Abbey's shoulder to let her know that she understood exactly what she was talking about and would take it under advisement.

****

Abbey and CJ returned to the White House laden with packages from their shopping trip. Both women made their way to the Oval Office. Abbey, because she had phoned Jed from the car and knew the twins had just woken up from their afternoon nap and he was having a quick playtime with them and CJ because she wanted to prep the President for some pre-Inaugural interviews.

They stood just outside the door that led in from the portico both reluctant to interrupt the sweet scene that lay before them. Jed sat on the floor in his shirtsleeves, his suit coat thrown over the arm of the couch. He was helping Nicholas work the ladder on the big red fire truck the little boy was playing with. While he was busy showing his son how to work the levers Aislinn was hard at work putting plastic barrettes in his hair.

"It's a good look for you, Jed." Abbey entered the room with a grin.

"Hunh?" Jed lifted a hand and felt the barrettes at the back of his head.

"Pwetty" Aislinn pronounced as she raced forward to hug her mother's knees.

"Yes, daddy is a pretty boy, isn't he?" Abbey stroked her daughter's head with affection.

"Pwetty boy." Aislinn agreed.

"Handsome, honey," Jed corrected his daughter with a quick glare to Abbey. "The word is handsome."

"Sir, I have to say, we haven't done a camera test on those pink barrettes. I'm a little nervous the color might clash with your suit coat."

"Keep laughing ladies. Keep laughing." Jed began picking the barrettes out of his hair with a little help from a chuckling Abbey.

"Sir," Charlie leaned his head in. "Peter Jennings and the crew from ABC is here."

"Okay, give me 10 minutes Charlie." Jed rolled his sleeves down buttoning them at the cuffs then put his suit jacket back on while Abbey began gathering up the twin's toys into a diaper bag. Before leaving she gave her husband a quick survey. After stepping toward him to straighten his tie, she licked the tips of her fingers and attempted to slick his cowlick back off his forehead the way he liked it when he was at work.

"Abigail!" Jed protested. "I'm not Nicholas."

"Well, you have the same hair issues."

"My hair is fine."

"Okay, okay. Have a good interview." She kissed his lips lightly, careful to remove the lipstick smudge.

By the time Peter Jennings and the camera crew for ABC entered the room, Abbey and the children were long gone. Remnants of their visit, however, were not completely removed. Peter looked down with amusement at the big red fire truck that sat in front of the President's desk.

"Is that how you unwind, sir?" Peter grinned. "Playing fireman with your staff."

"Not my staff," Jed laughed. "My kids. They were down here for a visit earlier. I keep the fire truck in the private study for them to play with when they come down." Jed didn't know if Peter knew that he'd hit the nail right on the head with that comment. He had desperately needed a little unwinding after finding out about the horrors of what was going on in Kundu and worrying about how to deal with that. For a little under an hour he'd been able to put it to the back of his mind and just be a father playing with his children. Nicholas and Aislinn didn't need answers or decisions, to them he was just daddy, somebody to read to them and play with them and tuck them in. For them he had had all the answers. Without having Abbey or the children as diversions when needed he knew that he might just cave in with the pressure of the world so heavy on his shoulders. It was times like these when he realized what a great thing it was that the President's residence was part of the building. It would be too easy to lose oneself into the job without that sense of normalcy so close by.

"Would you mind if I use your washroom before we begin?"

"Be my guest." Jed pointed the way to his private bathroom.

A few minutes later Peter emerged from the bathroom with a confused look on his face.

"Sir, are you aware that there are little plastic doughnuts floating, well�floating in your toilet bowl."

"Target practice."

Leo choked on his tongue at that one, CJ's eyes widened with surprise and Peter Jennings normally professional fa�ade took on an almost comical look of shock.

Jed bit back his laughter; he could see Jennings mind already hard at work wondering just why the President needed target practice in the bathroom.

"Target practice, sir?"

"We've just begun the preliminaries of potty training. I'm teaching my son where to aim. You didn't think they were for me, did you?" Mirth danced in the President's eyes.

"Oh, no, of course not, sir." Peter's face reddened with embarrassment. He'd been had. But, to prove he could take a joke he was ready with a quick comeback. "So, I take it the step stool in front of the sink wasn't for your use either."

"I may have a height disadvantage at times, Peter, but unlike my two year olds I can reach the sink to wash my hands without a step stool."

"Just checking," Peter grinned. "You know a reporter, never leave any stone unturned."

"Well, to that end, I guess I'm ready for the interview whenever your cameras are ready. Just remember, go easy on me, I just gave you one helluva scoop."

"Yes, you did, and I appreciate that. Will you mind if I ask you on camera about the children playing down here in the Oval Office."

"Not at all. I love to talk about my kids, but nothing personal about my older girls and no video footage of them. Abbey just brought them upstairs for supper. We'll be releasing official photo's over the weekend from their birthday party."

"You're celebrating early."

"Yeah, we figured with everyone coming down for the Inauguration we might as well kill two birds with one stone."

"Two years old. Seems like just yesterday that we were breaking the news that the First Lady had gone into labor during your State of the Union. It was a long night."

"My wife certainly thought so," Jed smiled ruefully.

"I'll bet she did," Peter chuckled. "I'll just bet she did."

"Mr. Jennings, the camera's are all set."

"Ready," Peter asked the President.

"As I'll ever be."

TBC...