Changes

by: Allison

Character(s): Jed, Abbey
Pairing(s): Jed/Abbey
Category(s): Drama, AU
Rating: MATURE
Summary: A (probably AU) view of what might happen after "the announcement."

She stood behind the window, watching through the separating glass panel. The tears had stopped. There was home, and there was public, and this was in public. Tears could wait until later.

And at least he didn't falter when he stepped up to the podium. This was going to be a tough enough sell as it was, without him actually appearing to be ill. She crossed her fingers and fought the very un-First-Lady-like urge to lean her nose against the pane, just to be that much closer. C.J. glanced back at her from her spot casually beside the podium, and the air between the two women crackled. How often it all came down to one moment.

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

When she'd come in - at five forty-five - he'd been stabbing away viciously at her computer keyboard. Silently she'd laid down her coat and asked, "Leo? What are you doing?"

He'd jumped about three feet and made some perfunctory exclamation about her sneaking up on people, before saying that he was drafting a statement.

"Don't we have people that do that?" she'd asked rhetorically, sitting in the visitor's chair and feeling suddenly out of place in her own area.

"I wanted to write this one myself." It was in case anyone asked him to comment. He'd worked on it for the next hour without letting her come near, then printed it up, closed the program without saving anything, and disappeared into his office.

When she slipped in the door without opening it all the way, he looked up from a stack of papers and raised his eyebrows at her. Through his glasses she saw that his eyes were redder than they had been when she got to work. "It's time?" he asked, clearly wound up like a spring.

"Almost," she replied. She crossed the room almost hesitantly, as if afraid he would yell at her, and picked up the television remote. "What channel?" she asked.

"I think it'll be on just about every channel," he replied quietly, pushing back from his desk and coming to join her. He removed his glasses as she chose a station and together, side by side, they leaned back against the desk.

"I should be there," he muttered.

"You've been saying that all morning," she reproved.

"Which you know because you had your ear to the door. Margaret..."

"For all I know you could have passed out and fallen off your chair in here," she replied, not taking her eyes from the TV screen.

"Wouldn't you have heard the thump?"

"You've lost weight."

For the first time in several days a tiny smile pricked at the corners of his mouth, before the network broke in with, "We bring you live to a press conference at the White House..."

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

"I should be there."

She almost rolled her eyes, but not quite. "You're not there because -"

"Because C.J. thought I would throw things at the reporters."

"Actually I think she thought you'd throw things at the President."

He pointed a stern finger in her direction. "You are not allowed to talk to Sam anymore. Understand?"

"Yes sir." Her words, and the tone in which they were spoken, were faultlessly meek. He eyed her for another moment before turning his attention back to the TV screen. "I should be there."

This time she rolled her eyes. But deep inside she was glad.

When he'd released his hold on her the night before, they had looked at each other and he had tried to smile. It was an expression she knew well, on his face. Her heart had immediately sunk, knowing he was about to withdraw - and also knowing that these days he would need her, or someone, more than ever and could not afford to shut people out. That was the part of the deal she hadn't fully considered at first - that not only would she miss their usual interaction while he avoided her, but he would need her and would be too embarrassed to let her in. In that split second she'd had visions of him self-destructing with guilt and lost faith, and her unable to help.

Instead of gently putting her away from him and then getting up and leaving, he'd kissed her forehead and said softly, in a very unfamiliar tone, "These are going to be bad days."

"I know," she'd replied just as softly, a little confused, still half leaning on his lap.

"I'm going to need you."

Her eyes had widened, but she'd managed to reply again, "I know." A trace of her usual sass, as Sam would call it, crept in and that had almost made him smile.

Almost. Instead one hand stroked her hair back and he'd given her the only thing he could. "I don't know what I would do without you here, Ginger. You and Bonnie." She'd smiled, a real smile that lit up her face, and she'd understood for a fleeting moment why Andrea Wyatt had married this irascible, complicated, terribly sweet man. Then she'd climbed off of him and ordered him to go home.

And when he'd seen her in the morning, he'd half smiled at the first sight of her and then carefully schooled his expression into one of sour contempt. "Can you believe they're not letting me go to the press conference?" She'd fought a grin, knowing it was completely inappropriate at this time, but she almost couldn't help herself - this was Toby, just like normal, not avoiding her, not embarrassed at his confession of the previous night - and that almost made her think that they could actually be as invincible as they'd felt.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

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