Chapters: 001 Word Count: 676
Warning(s): Character Death
Character(s): Abbey Bartlet, CJ Cregg
Category(ies): Post Administration
Crossover Shows: - No Show -
Summary: Abigail Bartlet always got what she wanted.
Author Notes: This was inspired by Ozzie and Harriet, two hummingbirds who fight outside my window everyday. Ozzie doesn't know it, but Harriet is smarter. And for my grandmother, who had a run-in with a hummingbird like Abbey did in this story. I'm not too happy with the ending, was having trouble bringing it to it's obvious conclusion, but it's still an okay read.
I don't own the characters, I just crush on them and enjoy writing what I wish had happened.
Always Got What She Wanted
You sit on the grass beside a freshly dug grave, long after your friends leave, cursing God, drunk drivers, and anyone else you can think of. The woman resting six feet beneath you deserved more than a front page headline and a closed-casket memorial service. She deserved a long life, full of love and family and free of car accidents, emergency surgeries, and DNRs.
You think itís ironic that you already had a plane ticket to New Hampshire because she asked you to come. The two of you were going to talk about ďthings.Ē Youíre pissed because you were so close to having everything youíve ever wanted, and some asshole teenager took it all away.
Leaning against the stone she shares with her husband, you look back on the moments of her life only you remember. The look on her face, the radiant smile, as a hummingbird thought her to be a kindred spirit and rested a moment on her nose. The pure joy in her laughter made your stomach ache, thinking that she should be able to laugh like that more often. You know youíd give your life if only to make her laugh like that again.
You remember when you first knew you were in love with her. Zoey was missing, and she came into your office and sat on your couch, looking so small and helpless and nothing like the woman the entire world knew and loved. You held her in your arms and rocked her gently, whispering words of comfort and wishing your could take all of her pain away.
You remember the first time you realized that she loved you, too. It was after your fatherís funeral. She flew in under the radar and was there in your hotel room to catch you as you fell to pieces. And she was there in the morning to help pick up the pieces, dust them off, and put them in their new place in your now-orphaned world. She rocked you in her arms and your committed her scent to memory.
The love between the two of you was always there, even at the end of the Bartlet Administration, when you would let yourself get pulled into an argument with her to let her blow off some steam because you knew her life was falling apart and that she didnít want to be in love with you while her husbandís health was failing. So she screamed at you, and you let her because you knew she still loved you. Every time your fingers brushed reaching for the same phone or doorknob or file burnt you with the passion she held so tightly inside, not daring to let it out. The love the two of you shared for each other sent you running into the arms of a man to whom you could only offer part of your heart, because you knew that the fact that you didnít have anyone in your life only made hers harder.
Your phone vibrates at your hip and you know itís your husband, the man you left hanging to run across the country and bury the only person you ever truly loved. Letting it go to voice mail, you stand up to let the love of your life rest in peace, when you see a hummingbird land on her gravestone. Looking at it, you could almost swear there was the same mischievous glint in its eyes that lived in Abbey's, and then it flies away. You know itís her farewell.
Walking in your car, you know what you have to do. Youíre going to go back and patch things up with your husband, hug your daughter Abbey, and then take the offer to run for Congress. Youíll pick up where she and her husband left off, starting with stricter laws on drunk driving, because itís what she would have wanted you do to, and Abigail Bartlet always got what she wanted.