Sonata in C MaJor

by:SheilaVR

Character(s): CJ
Category(s): General
Rating: MATURE
Disclaimer: Warmest thanks to Aaron Sorkin, Warner Bros., NBC, et al for graciously allowing us to expand upon their patented creation at no extra charge.
Summary: CJ disappears without a trace...
Spoiler: After "Galileo".

*****

Sonata (n.): a work composed for a soloist accompanied by an orchestra

*****

Phase I: Counterpoint

Counterpoint (n.): an interweaving of melodies

When the first President of the United States selected a site for the new capital city of his fledgling republic, he did so with a military eye. The District of Columbia was firmly planted on high ground, with a plentiful water supply at hand, its layout carefully-planned and logical. (Back then, anyway.) It was also reasonably central among the original Thirteen States, accessible to all of its citizens as a seat of government should be.

An added advantage that General Washington probably did not anticipate at the time is the fact that his choice was far enough north to escape the hurricanes of summer, and far enough south to be spared the blizzards of winter... thus depriving civil servants of their favorite excuses to avoid coming in for work.

Well, most of the time. Every once in a while Mother Nature has to do something totally unexpected, just to drop-kick humanity back into its place.

On this Tuesday morning in early December, hurricanes were hardly the concern. The snow had been falling gently yet steadily for most of the night, and by dawn the whole world seemed veiled in white. The Capitol, the Lincoln Memorial and all other pale marble structures half-vanished behind this silent curtain of animate lace. The streets were dusted and re-dusted so persistently that driving had become far more than the usual downtown challenge, even though the sheer volume of traffic helped sweep streets at least partially clear before the plows even got there.

Seated at his desk, Leo McGarry glanced up and around at the snow drifting past the window behind him. The towering silver Monument, always prominent in his view, was gone – as though Paul Bunyan had uprooted it and carried it away. The White House might have been enveloped in a cloak of invisibility. He shook his head at the caprice of the elements, checked his watch, and returned to the paperwork spread before him.

Moments later, his secretary appeared in his doorway. "Leo, senior staff are here."

"Good for them," he muttered, not looking up.

Margaret hesitated, picked up on the unvoiced command, and retreated. Then the soft tramp of approaching feet heralded multiple visitors.

"Leo – " Josh Lyman spoke first, leading the way.

"If any of you sings or hums even one measure of a Christmas carol, I personally will see to it that you receive coal for your holiday bonus and nothing else." The Chief of Staff still did not raise his eyes, reading steadily away.

"Well, and a good day to you too, Mr. Scrooge," Sam Seaborn offered with feigned lightheartedness.

"The day's only just begun," Leo warned. "I've already been through this with Margaret and at least two others. I swear, the whole place gets positively giddy at the first snowfall." He spared them the briefest glance. "But at least you made it in. I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies. Now about that fishing bill – "

"Leo..." Toby Ziegler began.

Leo sighed. "Toby, I don't want to hear it. The union has been dragging its heels on this from day one. Now that we've finally cornered them into coming here this morning, let's not waste our time bickering. You're the biggest gun in my arsenal, and I'm not afraid to use you. Whatever it takes to knock some sense into them; you have my blessing." He turned the page of the report before him.

The Communications Director rolled his eyes. "Thanks. I think."

"Uh, Leo – " Sam attempted in turn.

"Don't worry, Sam, you're next on my list." Leo adjusted his glasses and made a note in the margin. "Offenhaus is coming around later this afternoon and your infuriating good humor is just what I need to keep him off-balance long enough to listen to me. CJ, you should be there too."

An uncomfortable silence descended, and stretched out. And out...

Leo stopped writing, and lifted his eyes only. For the first time, he actually looked at the staff members lined up before him. Three men stood stiffly, hands in pockets. There was no sign of a tall, feminine Press Secretary.

"Where is she?"

"You finally noticed," Josh said with just a hint of a smirk.

"I've come to expect this from you guys, but not her." Leo glanced towards the door, as though he expected to see her poised there all along – but CJ Cregg was not waiting to be noticed or just walking in now to join them. "So what's the delay?"

"We don't know."

This time Leo removed his glasses and sat back, his frown shifting from intimidation to bafflement.

Sam got the idea that a bit more detail would be welcome. "She hasn't turned up for work yet."

Pause. "Did she say anything yesterday?"

Josh shook his head. "Zip. I already asked Carol: no appointments, no leave."

The Chief of Staff looked from one to the other to the other. And exhaled. "I don't need this right now." He rubbed his temple. "When was the last time CJ was late?"

"My memory doesn't go back that far," Toby drawled.

Sam covered a yawn. "Some people would take issue on whether 7 AM is late."

Leo looked out the window at the still-cascading snow. "And how far away does she live?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes," Josh told him. "Hey, maybe she skidded off the road. I saw lots of examples of that on my way in."

"You and me both." Leo sighed again, and dismissed it. "All right; when she does get in, send her to me. I want her there for the Offenhaus thing."

"Right."

"Anything else that can't wait at least an hour?" No one spoke. "Good. We'll finish this later. Go on, do something constructive." On that curt dismissal Leo returned to his literature, in a moment too engrossed to even watch his subordinates leave.

The trio headed down the halls of the West Wing towards Communications. "Man, just when you're convinced that you can always count on something," Josh observed as he led the way. "CJ being on time, Leo being overworked, Toby being grumpy..."

Toby's eyes narrowed silently.

"She'll be delighted to know that one late morning has completely shattered your faith in the cosmos," Sam said with a snicker.

"Hell, I've been redefining the cosmos almost daily since we first got here. Goes with the territory."

"Tell me about it."

Cathy appeared at that moment, like a genie out of a bottle, and collared her boss. "Sam, you had a call from the Liaisons Office."

"Oh, what now? I thought we fixed that yesterday." Sam let his two marching buddies go on without him.

"It's still preferable to spending a half-hour of Trivial Pursuit with the President," Josh shouted encouragingly back at him. He started to peel off into his own trajectory – and stopped at the sight of one empty desk. "Where the hell's Donna?"

Almost everyone around turned his way, but none volunteered an answer.

"Someone find Donna and tell her to get her tail back here. She knows I can't work without her bothering me!" Josh slouched off towards his office.

Toby did not spare a glance at any of them or reduce his own purposeful speed. "No one had better get between me and my phone," he announced brusquely to the office at large as he sailed through it.

Ginger, about to do just that, wisely stepped back. "It can wait."

"Damned right it can," he growled. "You are not on my list of people to destroy right now."

*****

"It'd be you."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Sure, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"It'd definitely be you."

"No."

"Definitely."

Margaret shook her head in pure exasperation. "If it were anyone, it's be Mrs. Landingham. But she's above all of this and would never participate in the first place." Leo's secretary did her best to re-focus on the papers spread across her desk, and to ignore her persistent visitor. "And neither will I."

Donna stood nearby, smiling with just a hint of smugness. "So you'd abdicate. That's fine, because then it would be me. Which would be great, since I'd be better at it than you anyway."

This time Margaret looked up. "I wouldn't abdicate."

"You just said you would."

"No, I didn't!"

Donna shrugged. "But I still think I'd be better than you."

Margaret sat right back and frowned. "What makes you think you'd be better than me? I don't think you would be."

"Well, for one thing, I smile more." Donna suited actions to words.

"But you also have a nasty habit of standing around and keeping people from working." Margaret stared down at her currently-silent keyboard.

Donna deliberately ignored that. "In fact, I think it should be all women."

"Then CJ would be higher than all of us."

Now Donna brightened visibly. "Yes, CJ should be President! And from there, we can arrange everyone by height. Which would definitely put me above you. In fact, I'd be Vice-President."

"This is utterly ridiculous." Margaret shook her head and returned to her typing.

Donna continued to dream alone. "So when CJ gets in, I'm gonna tell her that, as soon as she becomes President, I'll be her second-in-command."

"So what about Carol?"

"Carol's a munchkin," Donna scoffed. "She'll be in the kitchen."

"Fine. You go tell her that."

"I will." Flashing that smile again, Donna left to revamp the hierarchy of the White House.

*****

Carol drummed her fingers on her desk, not so much impatient as concerned, while she waited for the other party to pick up the phone. At last she had to admit defeat, and replaced her receiver with a dispirited sigh.

Cathy was passing by at that moment, and paused in her travels. "Still no answer?"

"Maybe I shorted out the machine with all my messages, I don't know. But her phone is working, so at least we can't blame this on downed lines."

"Or maybe CJ got caught in traffic. Things were backed up halfway to Des Moines."

"I sure hope that's all it is." Carol stared blankly at the swath of papers across her desk, uncertain just where to start. "You know, you never really appreciate how much work there is to do here until the person who does most of it isn't around."

Cathy rolled her eyes in pure empathy. "Tell me about it."

Carol gave vent to another sigh and started dialing out again. "I'm going to blow her pager too at this rate."

"Why doesn't she carry a cell phone like everyone else?"

Carol stopped just short of a derisive snort. "She does." And mimicked the all-too-familiar voice of a standard recording. "This cellular customer is currently out of range."

Cathy hid her smile. "Forget I asked."

*****

All White House staff learned very early in their employment the art of holding a conversation while walking briskly through congested hallways. Even though Sam was in the lead by a step or two, Josh had no trouble pursuing the subject currently under discussion.

"I have no doubt that she has a better excuse than your last one, Sam."

"Oh, like I would deliberately get a Mack truck to splash me just so that I could arrive an hour later than usual..."

"Hey, for all we know she might've had a date last night."

They entered the Communications bullpen and paused to continue this topic. "I spoke to Danny a few minutes ago," Sam went on. "He hasn't seen her since she left the White House around ten last night."

At that moment Toby arrived from the other direction, reports in hand – with perfect timing to overhear. And stopped in his tracks.

Neither deputy noticed. "Just in case you haven't figured it out, Sam, Danny isn't the only guy in DC who practically drools when CJ walks into a room."

"She's still not here?" Toby demanded sharply.

Sam glanced his way for the first time, and shrugged. "Maybe some kind of emergency came up. With a friend, or a relative. She could've forgotten to charge her pager."

"That's your other favorite excuse, isn't it?" Josh's grin warped into a wince as Sam jabbed him in the ribs with one elbow. "Or maybe she shut it off so it wouldn't interfere with the treadmill again."

"Just so long as she doesn't break a nail on the equipment."

"Better than bonking your head like some people I know."

"You can forget all about that vignette any time now, Josh. Besides, CJ is almost always here by seven, and the gym is not much more than a mile away. Do you want to bet she got stuck in a snow-bank?"

Josh released that mischievous smirk of his. "Ten bucks says she met someone."

"You're on." Sam grinned and took his leave.

Toby just stood there as Josh likewise strode off on some other errand. He cast a brooding eye at the closed door and dark windows of CJ's office. Then he looked at the wall clock for Washington time, which showed 8:26. His mouth tightened.

In silence, he moved over to the desk of one of his assistants.

"Bonnie, you have the Yellow Pages around?" he asked softly.

Bonnie blinked up at him in surprise. When her gruff boss used that particular low tone, something was bothering him... and he never liked to admit that anything could bother him.

"Sure." She pulled a huge phone book from a nearby shelf and extended it with both hands. "Here you go."

He didn't thank her. He rarely ever did. "Hold my calls."

"Okay." She wore a distinctly pensive expression as she watched him go into his own office and close the door.

Toby sat down behind his desk, paused, and released a deep breath. Then he opened the directory and flipped through it until he came to "Hospitals."

*****

When he wasn't shadowing the President everywhere (carrying bags, opening doors, running errands and more), and when he wasn't dating the President's youngest daughter (watching movies, munching popcorn, and more), Charlie Young had his own desk in the reception area right outside the Oval Office. He needed that desk, too; the sheer amount of paperwork required to run a nation defied belief, and all helping hands were welcome.

"Charlie?"

His head jerked up fast – the exact kind of guilty jerk consistent with a person whose mind had just been several light-years away. The personal secretary to the President was watching him, her eyes soft.

Charlie's skin was too dark to show a blush, but he couldn't hide the embarrassment in his posture and his voice. "Sorry, Mrs. Landingham."

"That's all right," she assured him kindly.

He did not feel reassured. This long-standing employee, for all her matronly pleasantness right now, was the single most formidable presence on the payroll, bar none. She took her duties very seriously, duties that included keeping the whole administrative staff in line – and sometimes even the President himself. Charlie had seen a few examples of that.

"No, I apologize. What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you'd like a cookie."

The famous crystal cookie jar on the corner of her desk caught the rays of the morning sun, as though their contents contained genuine gold. Considering how prized they were among the staff, that could almost be true.

Charlie paused, his uncomfortable smile shifting to ruefulness. "I don't think that's the real reason you woke me up."

Her reserved smile was fond. "No, but I didn't think you'd mind."

He looked back down at the papers before him, unable to remember what he'd been doing last. "I seem to be zoning out a lot these days."

"You obviously have a lot on your mind." Mrs. Landingham waited for one beat. "Zoey, perhaps?"

Had he been able, this time he really would have blushed. "Yeah."

"How's she doing?"

Charlie took a deep breath. "She's still kind of nervous, when we're out together. Like she's just waiting for something bad to happen." The memories came back, so often thrust aside, but never totally banished. "I know how she feels."

"Of course you do." The presidential secretary had surrendered all pretense of work as well, fully focused on him.

"But I don't want to fuss around her too much, or treat her too soft. Or pretend that nothing happened and everything's just fine." The President's personal aide shifted in his seat. "It's been six months now since Rosslyn, and the security's still pretty tight. But I want to be the one to protect her – only without acting like I'm protecting her."

Mrs. Landingham nodded sagely. "In these days of feminine rights, women can be caught in a real quandary, too. We like to feel protected, but at the same time we don't want to be dependent on anyone." She sighed, remembering. "Look at CJ. For the first few weeks the men lingered constantly around her, as though because she was the only other woman to have been through the shooting she couldn't be expected to handle it as well as they could."

The secretary paused for effect. "In actual fact, I believe that they found her to be the greatest source of strength for us all."

Charlie pondered this. "You know, I think you're right." Then he grinned. "I don't know why that surprises me."

Her smile returned, small and modest and confident all at the same time. "Don't worry about comforting Zoey, Charlie. I have no doubt that she's comforting you as well, whether either of you are aware of it or not."

*****

Only a person whose career is politics ever truly appreciates how many meetings can be crammed into a single day.

Leo marched into the office right outside his, radiating a mood that could be tangibly felt at ten paces. "Margaret!"

Seated only four feet away, she started visibly, her hands flying off the computer keyboard. Not until her initial fright was under control did she turn. "Yes, Leo?"

This reaction didn't even register on his mind as he strode past her and headed straight for his own desk. "How the hell many meetings do I still have today, and how many of them can I get out of without causing a national crisis?"

"Six," she stated immediately. "And zero."

"Terrific. I swear we've mastered the art of physically slowing down time itself. Now if only we can learn to speed it up, so that this day will end that much sooner."

"We've already figured out how," she offered helpfully, following in his wake. "It's called the Christmas rush."

The Chief of Staff reacted every bit as violently to this news as she had to his earlier roar. "Margaret, so help me God, if you mention that one more time..."

She made an effort and stood her ground. "Leo, is there something specifically bothering you, or is it the entire holiday season in general?"

He threw his report file on his blotter and threw her an irritated look. "Wherever did you get the idea that something's bothering me?" He plunked down into his chair.

Margaret shrugged. "You've made me jump three times already today, you threw a file earlier, which you then proceeded to demand that I find for you, and you've been yelling at your phone after you've hung up on the other party. Those are usually pretty good signs." Leo's granite look would have frozen a lesser mortal. "I thought that since it's obviously going to end up bothering me as well, I really should know what it is."

Leo gazed sourly at his well-littered desktop. "I've got far too much work to do, everyone's in a disgustingly good mood because of the snow, and at least one senior staff member has chosen to play hooky – as though they were schoolchildren rather than employees of the White House. I thought they knew me well enough by now to never even contemplate such a thing."

Listening to him, one might envision a veritable reign of terror emanating from this office on a good day. Still, even the most laid-back of McGarry friends could have seen how such disregard for his authority and standards was feeding his annoyance.

Margaret hesitated, then gathered her nerve. "That's assuming they're playing hooky voluntarily, right?"

Something in her voice brought Leo to a halt. In the issuing quiet he studied her, finally picking up on the vibrations of genuine concern.

His secretary swallowed – he could pin a fly to the wall with a certain kind of glare – but she managed to persevere. "I mean, CJ is one of the few people around here who actually cares about being considerate to the rest of us, and she's never once been flippant about her duties. She almost broke her neck checking her pager on a treadmill, for goodness sake. I know and you know that she would never purposefully disobey you."

And for the first time that day Leo admitted to himself that the clenched fist in his stomach was not anger, but fear... fear for the welfare of a friend.

*****

"Yes, Senator." Sam massaged the bridge of his nose in frustration as he listened to the rant coming over the phone. "Yes, Senator – Yes, Senator, everything's on track. The Chief of Staff will be there." Pause. "And the Press Secretary, too." Pause. "Now you see how seriously we're taking this." Pause. "No, I'm sorry, the President is tied up today, but we'll inform him – " Sam covered the mouthpiece and heaved a huge sigh of martyrdom before returning to the conversation. "Sure, Senator, we'll see you then." Pause. "Yes, Senator. Thank you." He hung up as fast as he could without actually slamming the receiver down.

"You're getting really good at sucking up to him." Josh had materialized out of nowhere and was leaning against the doorjamb, sleeves rolled up, arms folded, looking totally indolent.

"Well, Josh, you can't know what that means to me. Now that I know I'm so good at it, I'll do my best to unlearn the art at once." Sam paused, waiting for some explanation of his friend's presence. When it wasn't forthcoming, "What do you need?"

Josh shrugged. "Well, when I first wandered over here, I didn't have anything specific in mind. But since you're offering..."

"Later. Until then, can you possibly wander someplace else?" the Deputy Communications Director asked a bit too politely. "You're actually making me look good, since I'm working and you're not, but it still gets annoying after a bit."

"Any excuse to annoy you." Josh grinned – for a moment. "Actually, from here I get a better view of the entrance, for when CJ arrives."

That captured Sam's undivided attention. "She's not here yet?" Clearly he no longer found this fact such a great a source of amusement or gambling anymore. He shot a glance at the clock on his desk. "The first briefing is in fifteen minutes!"

Josh tried to maintain his cavalier mood just a bit longer. "And I'm not doing it."

"You got that right." Sam couldn't prevent a grin of his own; still, it faded faster than normal for him. "No way she'll miss that, but she's cutting it way too close, and I'd sure feel better knowing why."

"Ditto – 'cause I want your ten bucks before coffee."

"All right... so when CJ comes in ten seconds from now, with a perfectly legitimate explanation, I get to tell her what you thought she was doing."

Josh raised a defensive hand. "Okay, okay. Actually, she's ambushed me a couple of times in the past. It's fun having the shoe on the other foot, and I don't want to miss my chance." He pushed off the doorframe and stepped back into the hall to lie in wait some more.

Sam counted off those ten seconds in his head. No CJ. Frowning now, he rose and stepped out. Moments later, he reached Toby's closed door.

With this particular staff member, forewarned meant more than forearmed – it meant survival. Sam glanced through the blinds first... and saw his boss bent over the open phone book with the distinctive yellow paper.

That could mean only one thing.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested!" came the muffled yet brusque response to his knock.

Sam let himself in anyway. "Don't worry. I sent the Girl Scouts packing."

Toby growled, literally, as he hung up his phone. "I've been planning for ages to install an iron crossbar on that door so that the Secret Service themselves can't disturb me when I don't want to be disturbed. Thank you so much for making it my new top priority."

"Always glad to be of service." Sam strolled over and gazed down at the desk. "How's your search going?"

His boss hesitated for just one second – no more – before punching in a new number, not looking up at him. "What search?"

"Offhand, I'd say you're trying to find something." He leaned even closer, attempting to read the page's minuscule type upside-down. Not that he couldn't guess. "Or... someone?" The kidding note had departed from his voice by now.

Toby realized that his persistent colleague knew very well what he was trying to accomplish. No point in further evasion. He aborted the call.

"I'm doing what everyone on TV always does when a person goes missing," he grated. "I'm calling the hospitals and asking if they've admitted anyone this morning or last night that matches a certain description."

How typical of Toby: to care for someone and then do his level best to hide that fact from the world.

Sam always did try to look on the bright side. "Toby, she's never without her purse. Which means she's never without her ID. Besides, do you honestly think most people in this city don't know her on sight? If anything happened to the President's Press Secretary they'd report it immediately."

"And what if she had a serious car accident en route here? The weather's ripe for it. I'm not willing to bet that every paramedic in town watches the White House press releases, and they won't waste time calling her friends if her condition is critical."

Sam ran a hand through his short dark hair. This grumpy senior speechwriter could make the flimsiest argument seem perfectly plausible... and the projected anxiety was spreading.

He did try to instill a bit of optimism all the same. "Come on, what are the chances of that happening?"

Toby – there was no other word for it – glowered. "About the same odds as CJ being late for work in the first place."

Sam nodded reluctantly. "Point."

"And before you accuse me of anticipating the worse-case scenario, I called her place again. Still just the answering machine – which tells you that she isn't sick, or else she'd have called in herself and she'd pick up now. I also tried the gym, but that line has apparently been knocked out by the ice or something. Even so, CJ could walk the few steps to any one of a thousand pay phones in DC, whether she was snowed in, her car broke down or the traffic backed up. She works for the President, she's never been late a day in her life, and she's supposed to brief the press in –" he checked "– thirteen minutes. This is completely out of character for her, and I've had enough of us pretending that everything's all right!"

By the time he finished this little speech Toby's voice was rising dangerously. At last he realized it himself and looked away, as though almost ashamed of his outburst.

Sam just stared at him. His boss worked hard to maintain a reputation for stern aloofness. Somehow, CJ's unexplained absence had slipped past the armor.

Sam knew better than to mention that. An embarrassed Toby was harder to deal with than an angry Toby. As the Communications Director swiveled a few degrees to port, flushing slightly, his deputy decided that a cocktail of flattery and humor was made to order.

"Boy, the next time we write a speech about missing persons, you're the man. But it won't come to that, because CJ is going to walk through that door any second now, and I get to tell her that she just missed the most eloquent bit of ad-libbing I've ever heard from you."

Toby threw him another of those hard glares. "Do that, Sam, and you'll be kissing your ass good-bye one heartbeat later."

The younger man grinned as he edged towards the door. "In fact, the next time you have writer's block, I'll find a way to convince her to sneak out of town again. This really brings out the best in you."

"Sam..." When Toby's voice produced that low rumble, smart people knew to run. Just for a bit more emphasis, he leaned forward as though about to rise and attack.

"I'm gone." Sam ducked out with alacrity. So much alacrity, in fact, that he failed to close the office door behind him.

Toby sighed in exasperation and was just getting to his feet to shut it himself, when Sam stuck his head back inside. "Um – "

"What?"

Sam flinched, yet persevered. "If you do find out anything..." His voice trailed off, not needing to finish that quiet sentence.

The flame in Toby's dark eyes eased. So did his aggressive stance. "Depending on just what it is I find..."

He didn't have to finish, either.

Sam nodded slightly, seriously, and withdrew again. This time, closing the door behind him, granting his boss his privacy.

*****

The three men trooped into Leo's office for the second time in less than two hours. Again, unaccompanied.

Still going through those briefs, Leo looked up the moment their presence registered – and once he took a headcount the look on his face went beyond disappointment. Clearly his worst fears were being confirmed.

"No word, huh?"

No one had to say a thing.

The Chief of Staff exhaled heavily, pushed his papers aside, and closed his eyes for a long moment. "Okay, now I am officially worried."

Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking pretty helpless. "We can't go to the DC police yet; they need at least twenty-four hours to consider her missing."

From the pinch in Leo's forehead he didn't like his next order at all. "Someone start checking the hospitals."

"Already done," Toby informed him softly. And his lack of extrapolation indicated just how successful that approach had been.

Leo raised an eyebrow at being anticipated on such an unsettling topic – and by the least demonstrative member of the White House staff at that.

"She'd never miss a briefing," Josh pointed out, as if the rest of them had to be reminded of that fact. "At least, not voluntarily."

Silence. Their Press Secretary had really vanished; no one could deny it any longer.

Now Leo rose. He walked to the window and paused there, studying the gentle blizzard, organizing his thoughts and emotions together.

"All right. Push the briefing back to nine-thirty. God willing, she'll be here by then at least. Josh, you speak to Carol – just in case."

"Right." That might have been a deeper breath on Josh's part, but no snide remarks were forthcoming... much to his relief. He'd heard enough about his one and only attempt at a press briefing to last the rest of his born days.

"And tell her not to draw any more attention to CJ's absence than absolutely necessary."

Sam fidgeted. "Well, the press is going to notice something – "

"The word right now is that she is indisposed. Glaring headlines about a missing White House senior staffer won't help her or us. Not yet, anyway," Leo amended quietly.

"So we all just go about our business as usual," Toby summarized, with deceptive cool. "Life trundles on."

"Yes, it does," Leo returned in almost precisely the same tone. "Whether we're talking about a high-profile personality, a dear friend, or a total stranger. We're supposed to be the very last people around here to panic."

The two men locked eyes. That might have been a blatant challenge on Toby's part. That might have been a more calculating evaluation on Leo's.

The contrast between them was unexpected and tangible. Leo always reminded himself to rank duty before friendship; there was no other way to run a nation. As a rule Toby operated by the exact same high standards – but at this particular moment...

Their two colleagues held very still, as if fearing to tip a delicate balance.

Leo broke the spell first. "And now that the matter of our public image has been addressed, I'll speak to the President. It's high time we started to actively look for her."

The pressure bled off rapidly as everyone realized that something was going to be done after all. Something efficient, and something soon. They just wouldn't broadcast it yet.

Toby drew back a couple of inches from the confrontation, and gave a slight nod – of undeniable gratitude.

"I agree."

Four heads jerked to one side. Towards the door that led from the Chief of Staff's office to the Oval Office.

Jed Bartlet took in the measure of the room, arms folded, expression grim. Looking very presidential, and very concerned.

*****

Carol peered covertly at the reporters milling about the White House Press Room, her features an unhealthy ashen. "Ho boy..."

"How are you doing?" Josh asked, standing beside her.

"Uh – aside from being terrified?"

He rewarded her with one of his rakish grins. "Aside from being terrified."

"Oh, I'm great. Josh, there's no way I'm properly prepared to face this shark tank!"

"You'll be fine! They don't expect you to be as good as CJ – no one's as good as CJ. But you're better trained for this than anyone else. And you have the info they want. Just be yourself. You know exactly what to tell them."

"And we're right here for you," Sam promised.

"And don't take any questions."

"Absolutely."

Carol swallowed. "Thank you. Maybe I'll survive this after all..."

They could hear Cathy inviting the Press Corps to take their seats.

"No turning back now," Carol muttered. She swallowed, drew a deep breath... and walked up to the podium.

The room fell silent almost at once. Sometimes even CJ couldn't accomplish that.

Three rows back, Danny Concannon went rigid in his seat.

"Good morning." Carol forced herself to look at the many faces all fastened eagerly upon her. "Uh – for those of you who don't know me, I'm Carol, CJ's assistant. I'm... afraid CJ is indisposed at the moment, so please bear with me. I hope I don't look as scared as I feel," she added in an undertone. The mikes still caught it, and several corps members chuckled kindly enough.

She launched into the briefing at once, before anyone could ask exactly where CJ was. This approach also helped control the shakes. "Okay, first off: the Atlantic Trawlers Union is meeting in the White House even as we speak, to discuss the Fisheries and Oceans Bill..."

"That's right, keep it rolling," Josh half-whispered his encouragement, as though Carol could hear him. "Please, no interruptions – "

"Danny's gonna leap up in one more minute," Sam predicted uneasily. Both of them could see the redheaded reporter shift in place, his frown increasing.

"Nah, he won't want to draw attention to himself on that topic. Besides, he's got no reason not to believe us."

"Yes, he does," Sam corrected. "I asked him earlier if he knew where CJ was, remember? He knows she's not just running late."

Josh closed his eyes in slow, eloquent despair. "Oh, swell. If he starts a cross-examination, they'll all get into the act."

The relatively light news-day proceeded quite smoothly, with Carol gaining confidence as she went along. At the end, she visibly braced herself, that newfound confidence slipping just a bit. "I'm sorry, but I can't take any questions at this time. There'll be more later."

Josh and Sam tensed as well, just waiting for all hell to break loose before she could get clear of the room.

The inevitable shouts for more information might have been a bit less cacophonous than CJ usually faced. Perhaps these press members had some sympathy for her stand-in after all.

Curiously, Danny did not join in. He just sat there, looking more ominous by the minute.

Carol did her best to ignore the racket as she quickly gathered her notes for flight –

One loud voice rose above the rest, quelling all others. "There's a rumor going around that a strangely large number of Congressmen and civil servants are missing from work this morning and unaccounted for. Would the White House care to comment?"

Carol stopped in mid-stride and stared at him. Missing from work – No way could she fail to make the connection with her own absent supervisor. She couldn't even hide the realization from showing on her face.

"Damn," Josh muttered, and rushed onto the podium, into the cameras. Every head swung his way as he stepped to Carol's side. She threw him a look of genuine fright, as though he was her only possible defender.

None of them intended to risk any dithering or suggestions here. "I believe Carol said there'd be no quest – "

"Yes, I heard about that too," another reporter said.

"Is no one in the government willing to admit that certain employees wanted the day off to go skiing?" a third piped up.

Josh paused, and glanced over at Sam in the wings, his brows kinked in a mute query.

Sam met his eyes, looking just as suspicious.

What is going on in DC today?

The number of raised voices was increasing. In desperation Josh summoned his best stern-boss attitude. "That's all for now," he said with finality, and shepherded Carol from the dais, trying to outrun the shouted demands behind them.

Danny leaped to his feet at the same moment.

Sam flattened himself against the wall to let his two colleagues pass. "Hey, you did good," he assured Carol as he fell in behind her.

"Yeah, sure I did. I panicked." She didn't even glance at him, hurrying to get back to the relative safety of her own desk and her old job. She sounded like she was caught squarely between anger and tears.

Josh stayed close alongside. "Come on, they would've caught CJ out as well. We didn't know anything about this."

"No? Our Press Secretary's been missing all morning and we're just finding out the reason now?"

"What is it, an epidemic?" Sam wondered aloud, still trailing in their wake. "A conspiracy in the halls of government? Or an alien abduction with very low standards, if they only go for public servants?"

"Couldn't tell you. But someone I am going to tell is Leo." Josh took off towards the Chief of Staff's office.

"Right. I'll find Toby."

Carol ignored them both, dropped into her chair, and buried her face in her hands.

Sam paused another moment. "Seriously, Carol, you were fine. Take a deep breath. You know, you just might've scared up a vital clue to our little mystery."

This time she met his eye, appearing just a bit less upset with herself. He gave her his best smile, touched her arm gently in support, and headed out to look for his boss.

She tried to relax at least a bit, to breathe deeply –

"Carol!"

Her breath gasped out.

Every other head in the bullpen jerked up.

Danny blasted in and stomped over at a furious pace, his naturally-jovial features as dark as a storm-charged thundercloud. "Where is CJ?"

This interrogation would be tougher than the whole Press Corps combined. "I told you, Danny – "

He shook his head. "I don't buy it. This isn't just a last-minute thing; she's been missing all morning. And I want to know why."

Carol shrank a bit in her chair. CJ could deal with him in her own way – but then, no one in Communications had ever seen him so belligerent before.

Of course, the underlying reason that currently fueled this belligerence had long since been known by all...

There's always one blanket statement to fall back on in an emergency. "I can't tell you." The press is never privy to everything.

He wasn't buying that, either. "Now why do I get the feeling that I'm being lied to? I can't imagine. I mean, I know we're talking about politicians here, but still – "

"Danny, we don't know where she is!" Carol finally admitted, and this time her own anxiety came through loud and clear.

That unpleasant revelation would hardly pacify him now. "Then why aren't you guys doing anything about it?"

"Concannon."

Everyone spun around in concert. Toby stood six yards away, hands in pockets, head tilted back and eyes narrowed in that intimidating glare of his. There was no sign of Sam; apparently their paths hadn't crossed.

"Only I am allowed to harass my staff. You shouldn't even be back here and you damned well know it."

Few people indeed chose to lock horns with the Communications Director when he was so plainly in argumentative mode. (The President might have been one noted exception, but his rank did have something to do with it.) No member of the press would dare – and not just because of the potential radioactive fallout to their employment status.

If Danny even considered that truth, he didn't consider it for long. He turned from Carol and stalked over, the fightin' Irishman preparing for combat. "CJ never minds." That was plainly intended to be a pointed jab both at Toby's comparative intolerance and at his lesser influence as to just who was allowed where around here.

The jab missed its mark; Toby had been the first one to start worrying today. Also, since CJ worked out of the Communications office he was directly responsible for the disaster at the press conference. That minor detail was not likely to improve his temper at the moment.

He didn't move an inch, even as the space between them dwindled. His eyes were unyielding flint. "Well, CJ's not here right now."

"Which is exactly why I'm here," Danny stated through gritted teeth. "I want to know what's being done to find her."

"The White House does not have to explain every nuance of its operations to the press." Toby's astounding immobility in a heated confrontation had unnerved pugnacious lobbyists in the past.

It wasn't working here. Danny's advance didn't stop until he was well within arm's – or fist's – reach. "I have the right to know. I'm her friend." Clearly he didn't care how much anyone might choose to read into that statement.

"You think you're the only one who's concerned?" Toby countered in a frigid tone. "You don't corner the market on CJ's friendship."

"She means more to me than you're even capable of knowing."

"I believe CJ would disagree with you."

And just like that, the entire mood transformed from two professionals debating freedom of information... to two male rivals squaring off over a female.

Not one among the surrounding cloud of witnesses so much as twitched, totally caught up in this battle of wills.

Danny's face flushed to almost the same shade of red as his beard. "Just what is that supposed to mean, Ziegler?" he practically shouted, fists now clenched.

By startling contrast, as Toby neared his own boiling point his volume dropped. "It means," he said with deadly softness, "that unless you haul yourself out of this office in less than – "

Ginger chose that very moment to burst in. "Toby!"

Everyone except the two combatants yanked her way. Neither of them intended to permit a distraction until their little contest had been resolved.

Gasping for breath from running through the halls, she didn't wait until her boss deigned to acknowledge her. "Hostages have been taken downtown! At Capital Fitness – they've been barricaded in there since before seven this morning! And most of the captives are members of Congress!"

"Is that a fact?" Toby murmured absently, finding this news far less interesting than his own standoff. Danny's upper lip was curling into a genuine snarl. Their deadlock did not even waver.

Carol made the connection for them all. "Wait a – that's the gym where CJ works out!"

A ringing silence.

Toby and Danny turned from each other in unison.

The crackling anger drained away on both fronts. Suddenly their personal dispute had been completely upstaged in importance.

Toby looked at Ginger, who was trying not to hyperventilate. Then he looked at Carol, who was gripping her desk in near-panic. Then he looked at the other staff members, who were gathered around in various poses of alarm.

And then he looked back at Danny, whose features had shifted very quickly from furious crimson to fearful gray.

All quarrels were forgotten, in the face of true crisis.

Toby exhaled, suddenly looking very tired.

"Well, now we know why CJ didn't make it into work this morning."

~*~*~*~*~

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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