Renewal

by: Allison

Character(s): CJ, Danny
Pairing(s): CJ/Danny
Category(s): Romance
Rating: YTEEN
Summary: An interesting fact I thought of when watching The Portland Trip
Spoiler: The Portland Trip

CJ checked her watch again, for the third time in fifteen minutes. She was going to have to call a full lid soon, or she'd never get out. She didn't really want to have to explain herself - she knew the President and Leo would understand, but the others might not, and anyway - she felt a little silly. It was something she hadn't been compelled to do recently, but this year... Suffice it to say, this year certain things were more important.

She kept a watchful eye on Danny Concannon in his usual spot about halfway back. Ever since their conversation in the Oval Office she'd noticed a disturbing silence about him. He still asked questions, still prompted her with his usual right-on-the-mark guesses as to what the hot issue of the next day would be, but lately he hadn't seemed to take as much delight in torturing her. For a while there on the plane to Portland she'd thought things were returning to normal - he made her miserable, she insulted him, he teased, she threatened, she shamelessly used her height as a weapon - but not since then had that easy, albeit hostile, banter resumed. And she missed it. It was far from a relationship, and she had steadfastly refused to consider having a relationship that might compromise her position, but it was the closest thing she had. Deny it though she might, there was a connection between her and the reporter, an almost absolute certainty that if circumstances were different they would be dating. And that, while not nearly as satisfying as a real relationship, was at least something.

To tell the truth, she felt that she came first with him - well, first before other women if not first before his job - and she needed that.

It had been a long time since he'd followed her to her office after a briefing, but she still glanced habitually behind her as she finished this one and headed down the hall. She checked her watch again. Ha. She'd make it on time. She threw her coat on, took a second to yell to Carol to hold her messages, and fled the building before anyone could discover that they needed her for something.

She mistakenly assumed that because Danny hadn't followed her that he also hadn't watched her. He saw her hurried exit and made his way immediately to her office.

"Hey, Carol," he called in his most charming non-reporter voice.

"Hey Danny," CJ's assistant replied distractedly. She liked Danny, but she had things to do. She glanced up from her work and realized the red-headed reporter was still lingering by her desk. "Something I can do for you?"

"You can tell me where CJ went," he said, lowering his voice.

Carol hesitated. CJ had given her strict instructions, but on the other hand she'd overheard their conversation on the plane to Portland and thought Danny might know what she was talking about. "Don't tell her I told you..."

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

CJ closed her eyes and allowed herself to be lost in the familiar atmosphere of music, the smell of smoke and wood, and the whispers of the people around her. She'd been away for too long. It had been a mistake, she thought now, allowing life to get in the way of this time she used to enjoy. For no reason she could pinpoint she felt tears pricking at her eyes and lifted a hand to rub them away.

The bench shifted beside her. Instinct taught her to respect the privacy of the probable stranger who'd sat beside her, but then she detected a familiar cologne - and more than that, somehow her body knew that the man beside her was not a stranger.

"I'm going to kill Carol," she muttered without raising or turning her head.

"You shouldn't say things like that here," Danny replied under his breath.

"Maybe just maim her."

"Carol didn't tell me where you were."

"You shouldn't lie in here."

"I'll go to confession after," he whispered back.

"What are you doing here?" CJ asked wearily.

"It's a holy day of obligation," Danny replied in mock horror.

"I'm aware of that."

"December 8. The Feast of the Immaculate Conception."

"Thank you Danny, I did go to Catholic school."

"Well, that's why I'm here." He abruptly broke off their conversation and dropped to the kneeler in front of them, crossing himself quickly and bowing his head. CJ sighed and leaned back against the pew. For all the times he'd asked her out, the Basilica was not the place she'd had in mind.

She waited patiently for him to finish his prayers and sit back before saying, "You do not get to count this as a date."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied.

"Then -"

"I hate going to church alone," he said simply. "I'd much rather be with someone -"

"Danny, we are not involved," she interrupted quietly, mindful of the elderly couple behind them.

"I wasn't going to say that," he replied. "The fact that we can't be involved does not preclude my caring about you. I prefer to be at Mass with someone I care about. Is that so odd?"

"No," she sighed.

They were interrupted by the opening strains of the processional hymn. The holy day Mass proved distracting enough that CJ stopped worrying about the presence of the man at her side and was able to concentrate on the readings and prayers. Just as it had been ever since she was a little girl, the Liturgy of the Eucharist began and she got lost in the well-known words, the litany of saints, the responses learned by rote in childhood, until a certain phrase pierced her reverie.

"Jesus said to his disciples, 'I leave you peace, my peace I give to you.' Look not on our sins, but on the faith and unity of your Church..."

Oh Lord. That was always the cue in elementary school to make sure you weren't standing near any vile boys, and the cue in after years to start feeling hideously alone. It meant the Sign of Peace was coming. And she wasn't alone.

"May we offer each other a sign of Christ's peace."

CJ fought the urge to reply, "No, we may not." She turned resignedly to face Danny, wondering just how far he intended to take this. To her surprise he was turned away from her, politely shaking hands with a very aged woman two rows in front. When he turned to her he smiled, but it was a nonthreatening smile and she found herself smiling back despite her misgivings. She held out her hand, but he ignored it and stepped closer to wrap both arms around her, pressing a light and faultlessly chaste kiss to her cheek. Caught off guard, she nevertheless managed to hug him back. She wouldn't allow herself to dwell on the deeply missed feeling of being in his arms, or the memory of kisses that had been less fleeting. She was pretty sure you weren't supposed to make a move on someone in church, anyway. Straight to hell for that one, Claudia Jean. And on the Immaculate Conception of all days. The entire sermon had been about purity.

The rest of the Mass flew quickly. Danny stepped out of their pew into the line for communion and motioned her politely in front of him with a hand at the small of her back. He had no intention of making this a romantic thing - he had the same scruples about dating in church, not to mention the scruples he felt about disturbing CJ's personal observation - but about halfway up the line he couldn't resist reaching forward and taking her hand for just a brief moment. He let it drop in plenty of time for her to hold her hands up to the priest, but as he reached the front himself he couldn't help noticing that she hadn't pulled her hand away from him.

As CJ handed the chalice with the wine back to the Eucharistic Minister, she almost unconsciously slowed her steps down the aisle to let Danny catch up with her. His hand drifted to her back again as they walked, and she heard a middle-aged woman whisper to her companion, "What a sweet couple." This brought more unexpected tears to her eyes. She tried to hide them from Danny as they slid back into their pew, but he noticed anyway. He didn't understand, but as they bent together to lower the kneeler he very subtly reached up with his fingertips to brush her tears away. The gesture was over almost as soon as it had begun, and she swallowed hard and bent her head into her folded hands.

Her voice was shaky as they sang the final hymn with the rest of the congregation, but it strengthened as the familiar words comforted her. Seeing with pleasure the improvement in her mood, Danny leaned over and whispered, "You know, all I can ever think of when I hear this song is 'Sister Act.'" CJ couldn't suppress a smile.

He walked her out of the cathedral, as she had expected. On the steps he paused a moment before sitting down and pulling her with him.

"I have to get back to work," she protested.

"So do I. I think we should take a second."

She didn't answer and he asked, "Are you all right?"

She nodded and said, "It's freezing."

Ignoring her protests he put an arm around her and drew her close. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's December and I'm sitting outside on a marble step?"

"Besides that." There was a pause and he prodded, "I've never seen anyone cry at an ordinary Mass before."

She closed her eyes and gave up. "I'm just really tired of being alone, Danny."

He hesitated, knowing he shouldn't say it, but habit won out. "You know you can -"

"No, I can't," she replied firmly.

"Yeah, I know." The regret in his tone made her feel even worse. "You know, CJ," he added, "I did think about it. I thought about it a lot."

She thought for a moment. "The editor job?"

"Yeah." He was silent for a moment, holding her. "I couldn't take it."

"I know."

"But I really thought about it."

"I know."

"I still want to be with you," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she said after a pause.

He took both her hands in his free one. "Your fingers are freezing," he commented. He pressed them against his chest to warm them and asked, "Can't we think about it, CJ? I mean, we're both smart people. I can't help but think there has to be a way, and if there's a way we should be able to find it."

A painfully long time later she looked up at him (which, admittedly, she did not get to do often) and said softly, "Think hard, Danny."

He bent and kissed her forehead. "You can bet on it."

As they stood to return to the White House, CJ suddenly turned and said, "If Carol didn't tell you where I was, how'd you even know I was Catholic?"

"Lucky guess?" At her look he grinned. "You really gonna kill her?"

"No," she admitted. "But don't let it get around. I don't want to lose my reputation for inspiring fear."

"Don't worry, I still believe you'd kill a reporter," he said.

"Good."

"Hey, how'd you know it was me, before?" he asked curiously.

"I recognized your cologne."

He frowned. "But why would you even have expected that I'd -"

"You said you went to Notre Dame."

His face cleared. "I did. That's right."

"Plus you're Irish, and you don't look Protestant."

"You can always tell, can't you?" he joked. "My aunt Bridie married one. My grandmother still refers to Uncle Joe as a heathen. It's like living with the cast of 'Angela's Ashes.'"

CJ was still laughing when they reached her car, and for that he was grateful.

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