All characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells Productions, Warner Bros., & NBC. The title's from the 10,000 Maniacs song "Eat For Two." Standard disclaimers apply. Please send feedback.

Strong In Some Respects
Violet

Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

C.J. held them out before her, fingers spread, and watched them tremble. She made fists, clenched them tightly, blinked a few times, and opened her hands again. It was not a trick of her vision. They were still shaking. With a muted groan, she shut her eyes and leaned against the cold bathroom wall, trying to wish herself out of her traitorous body.

"C.J.?"

She opened her eyes reluctantly. Donna was standing just inside the door. "Carol's trying to find you."

"Great," C.J. said. "Tell her I'll be out in a minute, okay?"

"Okay." Donna made no move to leave. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

"You look like death warmed over."

C.J. gave her a sidelong glance. "Thanks."

"I mean you really look like you're about to faint. You might have the flu or something."

"I don't have the flu."

"You might be coming down with it," Donna insisted. "If you want, I can go tell Carol you're sick."

C.J. gritted her teeth. "Donna, I'm not going to faint, and I don't have the flu. I'm fine. Just give me a minute."

"All right," Donna said doubtfully. She started to leave.

"Wait. Don't say anything about this to Carol." Donna paused, and C.J. continued cautiously. "Don't say anything about this to anybody."

"Okay...."

"Especially not Josh, or I might as well just start briefing the press on it now."

Donna folded her arms. "What's going on?"

C.J. paced over to the sink. "I'm five days late."

"Five days--" As it registered, Donna walked forward and stood next to C.J. "Have you gotten a test?"

She shook her head. "I've been trying not to think about it."

"That's a solid plan, except for the part where it doesn't work at all."

C.J. nodded miserably, avoiding the sight of her pale reflection in the mirror. "This isn't good."

"Have you mentioned it to...?" Donna said tentatively.

C.J. raised her head slightly. "He doesn't know."

Donna looked at her thoughtfully. "What are you going to do?"

"I suppose I have to get a test."

"And then?"

"I'm forty years old," C.J. said. "I've always been careful. I've always been more than careful. Once, in college, I thought -- I was scared, but I was wrong." She looked down and braced herself against the sink. "I want to be wrong. I don't want this to be happening. I don't want this."

"You could talk to him about it."

"God, no. You know how he is." She chuckled wryly. "It would only make everything harder. I'm not telling him unless I have to."

"He loves you, you know." C.J. looked at Donna sharply. She held up her hands. "I'm just saying. I notice things."

"Be that as it may, I can't deal with him right now." C.J. turned on the cold tap and ran her hands under the water.

"Maybe it would help," Donna suggested.

"Did you--" C.J. cut herself off. "I'm really sorry. That's none of my business."

"No. Listen. I think you're one of the strongest women in the world, and you've been one of my heroes since the campaign."

C.J. smiled as she pressed her wet hands to her forehead. "That's really--"

"It's the truth. And I think you know you have to take care of yourself." Donna reached out and turned the faucet off for her. "It sounds cheesy, but you have to. You have to know what you can't handle."

C.J. studied Donna's face and spoke quietly. "That means a lot, coming from you."

Donna shrugged uncomfortably. "I was broke, and young, and single."

"Well, I'm not broke, and I'm not young, and--"

"That's not the point, C.J. You have to know what you can't handle."

C.J. took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. "Yeah."

"I'm going to go tell Carol you're coming down with something."

"No, wait." She dried her quivering hands with a paper towel. "I've got to work."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." C.J. patted her hair into place. "I'll stop at the drugstore on the way home. But I can't hide in here all day."

"All right." Donna started to leave again.

"Thank you," C.J. said simply.

"It's okay."

"Donna. Thank you."

She hesitated, then nodded. "You're welcome."

As Donna left, C.J. faced her reflection in the mirror, staring herself down for a few seconds before she walked out.

A week later, as she returned from a briefing, C.J. found Donna waiting in her office, perched nervously on the edge of the couch. "Hey."

"Hey."

"What's up?"

She held out a folder. "Josh wanted me to drop off this stuff on the Stiva-Levine bill."

C.J. took the file from her. "Thanks."

Donna stood up. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." C.J. walked around her desk and sat down. "This is Stiva- Levine, yes?"

"Stiva-Levine," Donna confirmed. "You're all right, then?"

"I'm fine," C.J. assured her. "And thank you for asking."

Donna nodded awkwardly and started to leave. She turned back in the doorway. "Did you ever talk to him about it?"

"No." She sighed. "There would've been no point."

"True. But if he ever asks...."

Fear flickered through C.J.'s eyes. "Why would he ask?"

"Because he loves you."

"Donna--"

"He does." She hugged herself. "And you've got an honest face."

C.J. smiled softly. "That's something we've got in common."

"That, and sensitive alabaster skin," Donna said, returning the smile before she walked away.

As C.J. opened the folder and began to turn the pages, her hands were perfectly steady.


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