"Ok, Aislinn, here is your blankie," Abbey tucked the worn receiving blanket under her daughter's arm and turned to her son. "And Nicholas, here is Tigger." She handed him the battered stuffed animal that was his security blanket. It had been with him since he was a newborn and the fur was balding in places and the ears were damp from him drooling on them while he sucked his thumb, but Nicholas did not sleep or go far without Tigger just as Aislinn could not be parted from the faded, torn, pink and yellow blanket she had been wrapped up in when she came home from the hospital in her daddy's arms.

The door to the nursery opened and Abbey turned to see the man she knew would be there. She knew he was ready to bluster away.

"Abbey…"

Abbey held up a hand to stop him. "Not in front of the kids, Jed, " she said softly.

Jed adhered to the rule he and Abbey had established a long time ago, never to argue about anything of importance, or anything that might get heated and personal in front of the children. Of course that had left a broad spectrum of things that they WERE allowed to argue about in front of the kids. "OK" He tilted his head toward the hallway. Abbey nodded.

"OK kiddos, mommy's got to go talk to daddy for a minute but I'll be right back in to help you finish packing up some toys to bring to your sister's house." She left the kids with Izzy and turned to follow Jed out into the hall. Abbey saw his chest puff up as he took in a breath to go on his tirade but she cut him off at the knees.

"Before you even start, I'm not going anywhere."

"You're going with the kids to New Hampshire where you'll be safe." It was said in his best lord and master voice and few would question his authority Abbey was one of the few.

"Jed, we discussed this after the whole disappearance of Air Force One. You told me you wouldn't fight me. We AGREED."

"That was before, when I couldn't envision something like this happening again."

"So you agreed that I could stay with you in Washington to placate me because you didn't think the situation would arise again?"

"That about sums it up."

"Well, too bad. It has come up and you're going to stick to your agreement."

"Abbey, I'll be safe. I need you to be with the kids. They'll need their mother if anything…well you know."

"If anything happens to their FATHER. See you're not so damn sure of your safety are you. Look, Jed, Dolly Madison didn't let the Brits drive her out of the White House until it was practically burning down all around her. Jackie Kennedy didn't let the threat of nuclear war drive her out to HyannisPort during the Cuban missile crisis, and Abigail Bartlet is not going to let the chance of a terrorist attack send her scurrying for safety on a New Hampshire farm My place is by your side, Jed, leading our country through good times and bad. If, God forbid, anything happens to us, it happens to us together and Elizabeth will do a fine job of raising our children. We don't let the terrorists win, Jed, EVER."

Unable to say anything, Jed simply stared into her determined green eyes in awe yet again of the strength in her, in her loyalty to him and to her country. He had met soldiers willing to die for their country, but here was this slip of a woman willing to risk her life for a moral principle. He didn't know when he had ever loved her more. "You have the heart of a lion, Abigail," he said huskily. He lifted her hand to his lips kissing the back of it, then turned when he heard the door to the nursery open and he saw Izzy come out pushing the twins double wide stroller. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to fight you tooth and nail every time something like this happens." He turned away from her and bent down to say good bye to his children.

Abbey watched him kissing each child wondering if it might be the last time "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jed turned back to her seeing her standing there as straight as could be, her shoulders squared, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and he brought his fist up to touch his heart with a sadly sweet smile.

"I love you, too" she mouthed back to him.

* * * *

Just days later with the terrorist crisis averted and the knowledge that they had been completely off base as to where the attack would take place, Jed sat back at his desk in the Oval Office. He had just met with Abdul Shareef, the man who was supposed to be their informant on terrorist activity, their friend. He supposed it was a good thing that he could still be shocked by perfidious behavior, it proved he had not become completely jaded in a world full of double deals and backstabbing. Still, it had been disconcerting at best to have the man who had planned the attack that had sent his children to New Hampshire for safety, the man who had attempted to blow up the Golden Gate bridge, standing before him with an outstretched hand. He couldn't do it. He just could not bring himself to shake the hand of the monster that had killed so many, that had planned so many terrorists acts abroad and was now bringing those acts of violence to U.S soil. He could not shake the hand of a man he was going to kill.

Kill. Just the word caused the bile to rise in his throat. If all went according to plan, he was going to order a hit on Abdul Shareef. He, Jed Bartlet, altar boy, theological student, teacher, husband and father, was most probably going to have a man executed. Leo had told him that there were no moral absolutes when he had been trying to justify the plan to do away with Shareef. Leo was wrong, there were moral absolutes and killing was one of them. He could tell from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that Leo thought he was being difficult, that he might even think he didn't trust the plan because he had lost his trust in Leo's advice. That wasn't the truth. He understood where Leo was coming from; he just no longer could go with the flow on blind trust. Oh, he knew the reasoning, understood the reasoning, he knew that he could justify himself to the American public, to the world, but could he justify it to himself? That was the big question.

He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. It was almost time to start dressing and meet Abbey at Andrews to fly up to New York. Abbey, how in the hell could he face his wife? How could he tell her that she was married to a man who had ordered a man murdered in cold blood? He knew she knew that there was something up. For days he had been struggling with this decision and he had been tense, short tempered and snappish with everyone, including her. He had pushed her away, pushed away her questions, her offer of comfort or help. He didn't want to be helped. He wanted to be miserable. He deserved to be miserable. He didn't want to make the decision he was being forced to make. Finally she had retreated with the kids to Maryland for the last couple of days. She said that it was because of the horrible head cold she had gotten, but he knew that she wanted to get away from the tension in the White House, the tension that he was bringing home every night.

Abbey met Jed at the airport. She was all dressed for the theater in a sophisticated, low cut, black silk Oscar de la Renta gown. A diamond choker graced her slender neck and her hair was swept up into an elegant French twist. She had almost begged out of the trip and most probably would have if it weren't for the meeting that she had planned with Mrs. Janet Ritchie. For days she had battled a terrible cold and fever that Aislinn had graciously passed on to her as soon as she had come home from New Hampshire. Unfortunately she had done the same thing to Nicholas and now it was his turn to be miserable and cranky.

Once on the plane, Abbey could see that the tension that had wired Jed before she left for Maryland had only worsened, not gotten better. The lines in his forehead were drawn with worry; his eyes were cool and detached. Still, she tried to engage him in conversation about the kids and began to update him on the health of their son.

"I checked him over before I left and I didn't see any indication of an ear infection but his temp has been up and down all day. I did finally get it down again before I left but I told Izzy to call me if he gets worse. Poor thing, he…." Abbey paused, seeing that Jed was a million miles away. "Jed, have you heard a word I just said?"

"Yeah, Nicky's got an ear infection. Did you bring him to the pediatrician?"

Abbey gripped his chin lightly and turned his face so she could look into his eyes. He'd been avoiding looking her in the eye all night. "You haven't heard a word I said. Jed, please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing." He shook out of her grasp and got to his feet to go and stare out the window. It was too dangerous to allow her to look into his eyes; he knew that if anyone were going to see the sickness in soul it would be she. "It's just been a shitty week, Abbey, a real shitty week."

* * * *

"Ma'am" Abbey looked up from where she was sitting watching the play with Jed to see Lily. "The Ritchies just arrived."

Abbey nodded and got to her feet.

"She just went into the ladies room," Lily told her as they walked down the hall. "That's probably the best place to catch her without her husband."

"All right, but you stand guard. Don't let anyone in." Abbey entered the ladies room. Janet Ritchie was standing at the mirror powdering her nose. She turned when she saw the door open and gave a start of surprise when she saw the First Lady.

"Hello," Abbey smiled warmly. "I don't believe we've met, Abigail Bartlet." She put her hand out.

The other woman stepped forward towering over Abbey. "Janet Ritchie, nice to meet you, ma'am." Janet Ritchie was a large, rangy, big boned woman who wore her short dark hair teased in an old fashioned hair do that looked very much like a helmet. The garish orange gown she wore did nothing for a figure that had the unfortunate combination of not enough on top and too much in the hips. Big gaudy diamonds were clipped on her ears and around her throat in an ostentatious display of wealth that was nothing like the slender choker Abbey wore around her own neck. Her skin was tanned and weathered from too many years in the bright Florida sun and with the way her eyes suspiciously tilted upwards, Abbey was quite certain that she'd had a few face-lifts in her time. She looked exactly like what she was, a Palm Beach matron.

"Well, I better get back out there my husband is waiting"

"Hold on," Abbey said. "I'd like to talk to you for a moment."

Janet watched with a frown as Abbey made a quick scan of the stalls to make sure they were alone.

"Ma'am I don't know what all this is about, but I really have to go. We're already late."

"Well, you're going to be even later." Abbey came back to stand in front of her, sure now that they had the privacy needed. "I believe you have something that I would like back."

"What could I possible have that you would want?" Janet began to squirm uncomfortably. Abbey couldn't believe that this mouse of a woman had been the one to wreak all this havoc.

"Oh, I think you do. You gave Danny Concannon a picture and I want that picture back, along with the negatives."

"I honestly do not know what you are talking about." She turned as if to leave.

"Honestly?" Abbey seethed, as she grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving. "I don't think there is an honest bone in your body. Danny told you the truth about what was happening in that picture and yet you refused to let him destroy it. You refused because you wanted to give it to a tabloid and let them misrepresent what was going on."

"You're way off base here. If you did something that you don't want going public, don't blame ME."

"Oh, I will blame you, and I will blame you loud and clear. I think you are well aware of how much Americans have come to despise that well-used "mean spirited" Republican mud slinging. Willie Horton doesn't fly anymore, does he? That's why the Republican Party threw its support behind your husband. He's the affable, not so bright, good ol' boy. We all know that's why Glenallen Walken didn't get the nomination. Intellectually he's a much better match for Jed, but he doesn't have the boyish charm that our husbands have, does he? How far do you think that aw shucks charm will get your husband when it comes out that YOU gave that picture to the tabloids."

"You leave my husband out of this," Janet's dark eyes turned cold and Abbey could see the hatred emanating from the woman. "You don't have any proof that I have that picture and if you try to tell the press that we did it you'll just end up looking like every other whiny liberal crying "no fair"."

"Oh, but I do have the proof," Abbey said in a saccharin sweet voice. She pulled a small portfolio out of her purse and handed it to her. She watched Janet's face tighten as she saw all the pictures of her exchange with Danny

"Concannon told you where he was meeting me," she said bitterly. "I should have known better than to go to someone in the Bartlet's back pocket."

"No, Danny had no idea that he was being spied on."

"Then…How?"

"You don't mess around with my family or my friends, Janet. Why would you continue to press this even after finding out what really happened?"

"I want my husband to be President." She exuded a clear, cold ambition that her husband was able to hide behind his genial personality.

"So bad that you would spread lies and make up stories. So bad that you would try to ruin a decent man like Leo McGarry?"

Janet looked down her nose at the smaller woman with distaste. She hated Abigail Bartlet and all that she represented. Hated that DAR old money New England lineage, that snotty Harvard degree, that northeastern liberal intellectualism and that feminist rhetoric everyone let her get away with because she was the loving mother of five. But most of all she hated that her husband and all his cronies derided her out of one side of their mouth as a damn blue stocking and admired her out of the other side as a damn SEXY, blue stocking. They may not like her, she thought, but that didn't keep them from fantasizing about bedding her. "Don't act so holier than thou, Abigail. You did the same damn thing."

"What?"

"Hell, you wanted your husband to be President so badly you covered up the fact that he has MS, so don't you dare stand there and lecture me."

"I didn't do that because I wanted my husband to be President. I want my husband to be happy and I do what I can to support him in whatever that might be. Right now it is being President. I NEVER lied to anyone about the MS and I never would. I told Jed's anesthesiologist it was up to him whether or not he went to the press with what he knew. I never asked anyone to cover up anything and I NEVER lied, so don't YOU dare compare me to the kind of low down move you were planning."

"It's so easy for you, isn't it? You don't even really care about being the First Lady. You're a doctor. I was BORN to be First Lady. My father was the Governor of Florida and then a Senator; my husband married me because of who I was, because of how my name would open doors for him. This is our time and I'm going to do whatever it takes to ensure that we take the White House away from you bunch of intellectual snobs."

"Feel free to bring it on, but I'll expect that picture and those negatives sent to the White House within the week. If I don't get them back you can be sure that these pictures of you with Danny will be on the cover of every magazine in the country within the month and not only will this not be your time THIS year, but it will NEVER be your time."

"What makes you so sure that this isn't our time? Our husbands are almost neck and neck. You certainly don't have the election sewn up."

"Of course we do," Abbey was brimming with bravado. "You're running against Jed Bartlet and Jed Bartlet doesn't lose. My husband is going to make sure that this election is about who is better qualified for the job and who has a better vision for the country. Yes, your husband can run as the 'ordinary, average American man' that he seems to enjoy proclaiming himself, none of us would dispute that he is exactly that and Jed isn't. Jed is not average or even ordinary, he is an extraordinary human being and he is a genius. I think the American people will realize that they are better served by electing the class president rather than the class clown."

Abbey turned to leave but before going out the door she turned back to face the stunned woman. "By the way, I doubt you were at a DNC fundraiser, where did you get that picture?"

"You have a lot of nerve to ask me that," Janet said, regaining her wits. "You guys are supposed to be the genius's, YOU figure it out." She swept by Abbey wondering how long it would take for them to remember that Claire Walken's family had been lifelong Louisiana Democrats, as had Claire before she jumped ship and became the third Mrs. Glenallen Walken. The powerful Senator Walken was more ambitious and cutthroat than anyone Janet had ever known and it was he who had found that old photo in his wife's album. He was a smart man, much smarter than Rob was and he knew just how to get what he wanted. He wasn't going to take a chance and end up a loser in this election, which was just what would probably happen in a head to head competition with Jed Bartlet. He wasn't quite as smart as Jed and he certainly didn't come off as kind hearted and compassionate and there was nothing boyishly charming about him. However, if Rob won the election and picked him to be his vice President it could all be his in just a few short years. The problem was that he had to get Rob elected first. Janet thought yet again at what a shame it was that she was married to the wrong man, if she were married to Glenallen Walken she had no doubt that she could make him President.

* * * *

Leo had been on his way to a phone call when he bumped into Rob Ritchie in the hall. Rob was impatiently waiting for his wife who seemed to be taking forever in the ladies room. They were exchanging guarded pleasantries when Abbey and Janet came out of the room at almost the same time.

"Look who I bumped into in the ladies room." The warmth in Janet's tone did not extend to her eyes. "Abbey Bartlet, my husband, Rob Ritchie."

"Hello Governor." Abbey extended her hand. Rob took the soft hand in his and smiled down at the lovely petite woman before him. Abbey Bartlet's sophisticated, understated elegance was a sharp contrast to wife's pretentious display, causing her to look almost vulgar in comparison.

"Ms.Bartlet," he drawled. Leo didn't miss the way the Governors eyes swept admiringly from Abbey's face to her cleavage. He noticed from the coolness in her gaze that Janet Ritchie had not missed it either. It was always this way for Abbey with many of the stuffy old school politician's wives. They had always treated her coldy and Leo knew that it was out of jealousy, because she was different from them. She looked different, dressed different, talked different and certainly acted different; sometimes it was as if she and many of her contemporaries were an entirely different species of female.

"Well, come on Rob, we really need to go sit down." She put her arm through Robs possessively. " We're very late."

Rob gave his wife a sharp irritated look, then smiled back at Abbey. "Shore was nice to meet you Ms. Bartlet. Give your husband my best." His eyes swept her form again and Abbey gave him a chilly look.

"I certainly will, Governor."

* * * *

"You were gone for quite a while," Jed said, as Abbey took her seat. "Everything all right?"

"Just fine. Mrs. Ritchie and I had nice little conversation. Suffice it to say the picture and negatives should be at the White House within a few days. Jed gave her an amused side-glance. "My wife, the enforcer."

"And don't you forget that."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you again," there was a tap on Abbey's shoulder

"What is it Lily?"

"Your nanny is on the phone. There's a problem with Nicholas."

TBC...