Work Text:
Friday, December 24
12 p.m.
"Guess they aren't wearing the Santa hats," said Josh.
"They're not wearing the Dickensian costumes, either," said Sam, sagely.
The sound of the children's choir's harmonies had died down and everyone clapped. Their small crowd was dispersing, with Leo leaving in the general direction of his office and the President talking photos with the carollers. From the corner of her eye, CJ noticed that Donna was wiping her eyes.
"'Cause the Santa hats would clash with the Dickensian costumes. They're not historically accurate." Josh glanced at CJ and grinned. "Ask me how I know they aren't historically accurate."
"The President told you," Donna said, walking past Josh.
"The President told me," Josh repeated.
CJ turned towards them. They were overgrown four-year-olds, both Sam and Josh. They could be ridiculous sometimes, almost as ridiculous as the discussion they'd had earlier, whether the Santa hats would clash with the Dickensian costumes of the carollers, who ended up wearing neither.
"Prancer, Donner!" CJ called out.
"Who's Prancer?" Josh asked.
"Me, obviously," Sam answered.
"Hey, I wanted to be Prancer!"
"Well, you can't be Prancer. Because I'm Prancer." Sam looked at his watch. "And I have to go, because I'm going to be in Bermuda in four hours. Merry Christmas, everyone."
"I don't wanna be Donner!" Josh complained again. "Why can't Sam be Donner?"
CJ started to walk down the hallway and Josh joined her.
"Well, Sam has a certain Prancer-like quality," she said, doing her best to keep a straight face.
"He does?"
"Yeah."
"Can I be Dasher, at least?" Josh asked.
"Remind me again, Josh, which one of Santa's reindeer is Jewish?" Toby, wearing his coat, scarf and gloves, walked past CJ and Josh. He must've been outside, because CJ remembered that she hadn't seen him at all that morning.
"Is the President still there?" Toby asked. "Hasn't gone to New Hampshire yet?"
"No."
CJ rushed past a few busy office workers and turned into another, surprisingly empty, hallway, with Josh at her heel. The holidays were starting, even for the busiest building in the world.
"Do you think Leo's gonna—?" Josh started, but he stopped when he noticed a rare, but a dear visitor to their offices.
Zoey smiled when she saw them. Zoey Bartlet, the campaign baby and everyone's unofficial little sister, who was about to start college in a couple of weeks. CJ remembered how happy Zoey had been when she'd been accepted to Georgetown, at the height of the campaign.
"CJ! Josh!"
"Hey, Zoey!"
"Can't believe you went shopping with dad yesterday, Josh."
"Yeah, it was an unforgettable experience," Josh practically moaned.
"I thought you enjoyed browsing old and rare books, Joshua." CJ kept her pokerface on.
Josh gave her a pained look.
"You could've gone shopping with me and mom last week," Zoey teased.
"Yeah," Josh began, rubbing his face, "we're all scared of your mom, but your dad's the president. He can send me on a special diplomatic mission to the North Pole if I say no."
Zoey laughed.
"Not only did we go shopping with the President, no, we got to hear a billion little not-so-fun facts about the Presidents of Christmas Past. I couldn't care less who the first president who put up a Christmas tree in the White House was."
"That would be Benjamin Harrison, Josh, back in 1899. It was adorned with candles, toys and ornaments for his grandkids." Jed Bartlet, the President of Christmas Present, manifested behind Josh's back, in a truly Dickensian manner.
"Next year," he continued, "I might throw a Christmas party right here at the White House for my grandkids, the way President Andrew Jackson did back in 1835. They had an indoor snowball fight in the East Room. Nah, scrap that, don't think Abbey's gonna let us have an indoor snowball fight anywhere near Eleanor Rosewelt's favorite teapot."
"I don't think Eleanor Rosewelt would mind, sir," said Josh.
"No, but Abbey would." The President grinned. "Where is my wife anyway? I think she's been packing her bags since Labor Day."
The President looked around, as though he expected Abbey might jump out from behind one of the desks.
"You should come to Manchester with us. Grab a nightcap with me and Abbey. Have some eggnogg while we're at church."
"I appreciate your invitation, sir, but I think CJ has other plans," Josh said, grinning like a madman.
"Well, suit yourself! Merry Christmas, CJ! Happy New Year, Josh!"
"Thanks, sir."
CJ and Josh stood side by side, watching Zoey and the President depart, their shadows in black suits staying close.
"Josh said you bought me something yesterday," Zoey said as they were leaving. You didn't get me a new stereo, did you?"
CJ and Josh stood together for a few long moments, enjoying the blissful holiday atmosphere of the ever busy bullpen. People started to disperse. Everyone was heading home, to spend their holidays with their families or, in Josh's case, probably watching a baseball game on TV. In CJ's case, getting ready for a…
"CJ's got a daaa-teeee! CJ's got a daaa-te," Josh, the four-year-old, said under his breath.
CJ turned towards him.
"How do you know about—it's not a date, Joshua!"
"Sure." Josh was still grinning.
"It's a business dinner."
"Okay."
"Danny's gonna bring his notebook."
"Okay."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"Nope." Josh's grin turned into a warmer, kinder smile. "Well, merry Christmas, CJ, and have fun at your not-date!"
"Bye, Dasher!"
Josh punched the air, walking away briskly.
It was only a business dinner, not a real date. And certainly not a daaaa-tee. Not even a daa-te. Two professionals could have a professional dinner together. Professionally. Danny was bringing his notebook. It wasn't a date if someone was bringing their notebook.
"Well, there you are! I thought you'd all gone home!"
The First Lady stood behind CJ, who hadn't heard her arrive, even though Abbey was wearing a pair of black heels. In her soft, red cardigan and black pencil skirt, she looked like a fiery Jackie Kennedy. CJ was always impressed with Abbey's ability to switch between her professional, stern, thoracic surgeon persona and the epitome of the perfect all-American hostess.
"Hey, Abbey!"
"Hey, CJ!"
Abbey came towards her.
"You know, when I said I thought you'd all gone home, I meant you should've gone home! The work will still be there when you return."
"Yeah, I'm going home now."
"Good, good. Go home, have fun! Or you could come to Manchester with us. Millie's comin' over. We'll get drunk after church."
"After church and not before," CJ said.
Abbey sighed, doing her best impression of a New England matron.
"CJ, it's church!"
Her grin was somehow naughty and perfectly innocent at the same time.
"Abbey, may I ask you something? What's your Secret Service name?"
Abbey scoffed.
"They just changed them," she said.
"They did. My Secret Service code name is Flamingo."
Abbey said nothing.
"Flamingo."
"Could've been worse," said Abbey, "but it's a pretty bird. Colorful."
"It's a ridiculous bird!"
"Still better than mine."
When CJ gave her a questioning look, Abbey sighed.
"Scalpel," she said.
CJ burst into laughter.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just… kinda sharp."
"It used to be Stethoscope." Abbey shook her head in despair. "But then they got to know me better. At least that's what Jed says Ron Butterfield told him. It makes me sound like a serial killer, CJ."
"You're a surgeon, Abbey."
"Yeah, sometimes I wonder…" Abbey sighed.
She fell silent, looking at the floor, but when she spoke again, gone was the sadness from her voice and her eyes.
"Did you join Jed on his little shopping spree?"
"Sadly, I did not." CJ wondered if Abbey would… yeah, the way she raised her eyebrows and the slight smirk confirmed that Abbey had registered her sarcasm.
"He bought Zoey a book of fables in iambic pentameter."
"I'm sure she's gonna love it."
"Wonder what he's gonna give me. The Life of Hyppocrates. Seven tomes. Written in Ancient Greek. You're right CJ, might as well get drunk before church."
They both burst into laughter.
"Anyway, Josh says you got a date tonight."
"Joshua!" CJ yelled. She hoped he'd already gone home. Because if he hadn't, she was going to send him on a special diplomatic mission to the North Pole herself. "It's not a date, Ma'am, it's a business dinner."
"It was about time. Give my best to Danny."
"I will, Ma'am."
Abbey winked and waved to CJ on her way out.
"Merry Christmas, CJ!"
"Merry Christmas, Abbey!"
With the First Lady gone, CJ was left alone again. She looked at the clock above her head. 12:30. Almost time to leave and start her holiday. Get ready for the business dinner.
Business dinner.
Okay.
CJ was heading to her office, but the sound of her name made her turn around.
"Hi, CJ!"
"Hi, Fishboy!"
Danny was leaning against an unoccupied desk and smiling at her. CJ felt a sudden urge to giggle. She suppressed it. A business dinner. A business dinner.
"You're still here? You gonna give my goldfish a Santa hat?"
"No, just wanted to make sure our deal was still on."
"It's on. Don't forget your notebook."
"I won't. I'll even bring my pen."
"Yeah," said CJ.
"Yeah," Danny agreed.
"My secret service name is Flamingo," CJ said.
"It's a noble bird. Very elegant. Tall."
"Yeah," said CJ.
"Yeah," Danny agreed.
"No need to wear a suit tonight, it's just a—"
"Business dinner. Yeah, I know."
CJ smiled. How could she not smile, when his eyes were so beautifully blue and full of warmth?
"CJ?" Danny said.
"Yes, Daniel?"
Danny pointed to the ceiling. CJ looked up. Right above their heads, on an archway, was a mistletoe. He grinned.
"Mistletoe," he said.
"Okay," CJ said. She moved closer.
"Okay," Danny agreed. He was so close now that CJ could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
She smiled. He smiled, too. Her lips parted and Danny moved closer… and closer…
"Excuse me! Ms. Cregg?"
Quickly, they pulled away. A girl CJ didn't know, an intern, probably, stood looking at CJ, holding some papers in her hands.
"Mr. McGarry sent this," she said.
"Yeah. Okay. Yeah…"
CJ took the papers from the girl, but Danny already started to walk away.
"See you later, CJ. I won't forget my notebook."
"See you later, Danny."
For what seemed like an eternity, CJ stood by the bullpen, leaning against a desk. Her heart was beating fast, her mouth suddenly dry.
Okay. Yeah. A business dinner. A Christmas business dinner. Okay. Okay.
With a sigh, CJ looked up. The mistletoe seemed so sad up there, abandoned and lonely. CJ sighed again. Someone had left a TV on, so she looked at the screen. They weren't watching CNN or CSPAN, but a show CJ had never seen before where two women with Southern accents discussed the process of making a jam cake. CJ watched for some time, while the tiny blonde woman talked about her grandma's favourite recipe.
Does Danny like jam cake? CJ wondered and felt foolish for thinking that almost immediately.
She shook her head and picked up her papers. She smiled. There was a lot to do, she had to get ready for a business dinner. She was gonna wear the red dress that Abbey had made her buy while they'd been campaigning in Seattle. It was Christmas after all.
Smiling, CJ walked to her office. Behind her back, the blonde woman on TV smiled into the camera.
"We wish y'all a merry Christmas!"
And it was going to be a very merry Christmas.