Bad Ideas

by: Allison

Character(s): Josh, CJ
Pairing(s): Josh/CJ
Category(s): General
Rating: YTEEN
Summary: Prequel to The Company of Women, Lessons and Downtime

New Hampshire
1998

He slumped further down in his seat. He actually didn't think he could slump any further. It might not be humanly possible.

Things were - not good. If he had to bet, he'd say they were going to come in second. Not just in one state, but across the board. Trouble was, in the primary second didn't mean squat. He was pretty sure Hoynes wouldn't come knocking for Jed Bartlet to be his vice-president, and he was also pretty sure that Jed Bartlet wouldn't be lining up to be anybody's second. So that was it.

And the trouble was, he didn't even know who to blame. For once he didn't think he'd done anything stupid. Certainly Sam hadn't done anything stupid. Leo McGarry - well, Josh had known him for a long time, long enough to know that Leo did not make political mistakes. Governor Bartlet's best friend and staunchest defender was probably also the most savvy of his advisors. Not to mention that secretary of his - what was her name? Margaret - keeping Leo and everybody else in line. Josh had learned from his first run-in with the tall redhead not to mess with her. There was the other new guy - the one the Governor kept calling by Josh's name - Toby Ziegler. Surly but smart. Josh had heard the stories of how Leo had fired everyone on the campaign staff except Toby after a particularly sensitive issue about - milk? Something like that? Toby might be rough around the edges but his advice was sound. And that woman he'd brought - well. Josh wasn't used to looking up to women (physically speaking) and the six-foot-tall Californian had scared the hell out of him at first. Call him sexist, but he'd gotten comfortable with the good-old-boys atmosphere of the campaign before Toby flew off to the West Coast and brought home a Berkeley amazon who'd worked in Hollywood. That was, until he'd talked to her after that speech to the Catholic League.

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

He was sitting, not surprisingly, slumped in his chair in the hotel bar. Steps behind him alerted him to his company, and radar told him that the person behind him was very tall. Rather than turning around he leaned over backwards. "Hi there," he said, trying to hide the fact that he really didn't want to talk to her.

"Hi." Either not noticing or, more likely, ignoring his tone, CJ Cregg slid into the chair across from his. "What'd you think?"

He gave a resigned sigh. Looked like she was here to stay. "You were right."

"That wasn't what I meant."

He looked at her for a moment. No, it looked like she really hadn't come to gloat. Interesting. "Oh. It went well. Is that what you meant?"

"Yes." She settled back in her chair. "You think we made an impact?"

He raised an eyebrow. "With the Catholic League? The first candidate since Kennedy? Yeah, I think we made an impact."

She shrugged. "Okay."

There was a long silence. He studied her unabashedly during the pause. For the first time he took the trouble to notice the fact that her clothes hung loosely on her - a sure sign that she'd recently lost a lot of weight - and that her collarbones and upper ribs showed prominently through the skin at the opening of her shirt. She didn't look sickly thin, but it was plain that she was rather underweight for her height. He took note of the circles under her bright eyes, and was surprised to see a pained expression on her face. Call him slow, unobservant, sexist, whatever, but it truly had not occurred to him before that it might have been difficult for her to join their club. He wondered whether she still felt like an outsider.

"You don't trust me, do you?" she asked suddenly as if she'd read his mind.

"That was just eerie," he commented before he could stop himself.

CJ frowned. "You were just thinking about how you don't trust me?"

"No!" he corrected hastily. Only honesty was going to save him here. "I was just thinking about how - well, I've never really wondered whether it was hard for you."

CJ thought for a second, obviously deciding whether to answer his question. She must have decided that he was okay. "Harder every second," she said truthfully.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She looked at him oddly. "I wasn't looking for pity."

"I wasn't offering it," he said. "I was apologizing. I'm sure I haven't helped."

She eyed him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

They were silent together for a while.

"CJ?" he asked finally.

She looked up from the floor tile she'd been studying. "Yeah?"

He met her eyes across the table. "Do you think we have a shot?"

She looked back at him frankly. "Well, it's not going to be like
shooting fish in a barrel."

"I figured that."

"Our fish are more like in the Mississippi."

He nodded, considering. "You think we need bigger guns?"

"I think we need a dam."

Hmm. He raised his glass to her. "I think I see. Stop taking pot shots -"

"- and narrow the field. Yeah."

"So pick a platform?"

She nodded. "We're all over the place."

"Right."

There was another long silence, but they were getting less uncomfortable. He smiled at her across the table. "So, what does CJ stand for?"

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

Yeah, CJ'd turned out to be okay. And she knew how to handle the media, which was more than he could say for himself.

He heard a now-familiar step behind him, this time coupled with a familiar gentle perfume. "Hey," he said without looking up.

"Hey." She gracefully folded her long frame into a chair beside his. "What's up?"

"We're going to come in second," he said flatly.

She understood perfectly the tenuous connection between her question and his response. His entire body radiated slump. "No, we're not," she replied, raking a hand through her hair. She'd only recently straightened it again - Margaret swore it looked better this way - and she still wasn't used to the length of it falling in her eyes.

He looked up. "We're not?"

"Nope." She pulled her glasses off and hung them casually from the front of her shirt. "We're going to win."

He eyed her suspiciously. "You're crazed."

"I'm not."

"Then how -"

"Because we're going to pull from behind Hoynes at the last minute."

"Your Ouija board tell you that?"

She grinned. "No, Mrs. Bartlet did."

"So it was her Ouija board."

"Essentially."

They laughed. He was dimly aware that she'd managed to perk him up - which was probably her intention, but he didn't even care. She reached over and ruffled his hair and he looked up at her, surprised. They'd become better friends in the past few weeks, but the sudden gesture of affection was nonetheless unexpected. She grinned and he couldn't help grinning back. He'd learned that CJ was like that. She got to her feet and held out a hand. "Come on, you look like a man who needs a drink."

His brow wrinkled doubtfully. "I'm a lightweight."

"I should have guessed," she said, still laughing. "Come on. I'll keep an eye on you."

He smiled and took her hand.

Chapters: 1 | 2 |

| << Back | Send Feedback | The National Library |