(~(~)~)
“Who was that guy who was following CJ around today?”
Bonnie put the salad bowl on the table and returned to the kitchen to check on the rolls. “Agent Simon Donovan, Secret Service.”
“It’s true, then.” Ginger toed out of her shoes and stretched her legs along the length of the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “They’ve finally decided to take the death threats seriously.”
Bonnie frowned, though whether at Ginger or the lasagna, Ginger couldn’t say. “They would’ve taken them seriously a lot sooner if CJ had mentioned them to anyone.”
Ginger shrugged, and the shrug turned into a long shoulder roll as she tried to work out even one of knots in her upper back. “We knew. We took them seriously.”
“We only knew because Carol read CJ’s email – which she wasn’t supposed to do – and then told us – which she also wasn’t supposed to do. I think this is done.”
“It smells great. Carol only wasn’t supposed to because CJ didn’t want any of us to know about it. It’s not our fault that any one of us has more sense than the entire Senior Staff combined.”
Bonnie chuckled and shut the oven door. “True. Dinner.” Ginger hauled herself off the couch, groaning as her feet protested being in motion again. Bonnie looked over. “The brown shoes are no good for your feet.”
“I’m breaking them in.”
“Three weeks ago you were breaking them in. Now they’re just shoes that are no good.”
Ginger sat at the table and started putting salad onto her plate. “You worry too much.”
“If your feet do something that ends with you not being able to walk on them, I have to deal with Sam and Toby all by myself.” Bonnie looked over the top of her wine glass with an expression that left no doubt what would happen to Ginger if such a thing ever came to pass. “How’s the lasagna?”
“Perfect, of course. What do you think will happen to CJ?”
“What do you mean?” Bonnie frowned. “I think there’s too much ricotta.”
“No, it’s great; I love ricotta.” Ginger speared a julienned carrot from her salad. “Will they catch CJ’s stalker eventually, do you think, or will Agent Simon Donovan, Secret Service, be with her for the rest of her life? Or is it only until she doesn’t work in the White House anymore, and then she’s on her own? Pass the butter, please.”
Bonnie’s frown deepened, her eyebrows raised, and she passed the butter. “That’s a morbid thought.”
“I know. But it’s important. I’d hate for anything to happen to CJ.”
“I know.” They looked at each other for a minute. Bonnie sighed and drank more wine. “They’ll catch him. He doesn’t seem especially smart, and Ron Butterfield’s looking for him now.”
“That’ll take care of that, then.” Ginger shuddered. “He scares me.”
“He’s supposed to. That’s his job. I wouldn’t want to be CJ’s stalker just now.”
“I wouldn’t want to be CJ.”
“Yeah. Did I cook the broccoli long enough?”
“It’s great. Everything’s great. When are you going to believe that you’re an amazing cook?”
“Maybe when I’m cooking for someone who doesn’t believe that single-serving macaroni and cheese is an unsurpassable culinary advancement.”
“Just because I can’t cook doesn’t make me incapable of appreciating someone else’s skills. Agent Donovan’s cute.”
Bonnie spluttered a little. “Okay.”
“In a brooding John Wayne early days way.”
“Sure.”
“I’m just–“ Ginger waved her fork around. “I could see CJ falling for a guy like that. A protector. A hero. If he’s smart and can banter.”
There was a challenge in the way Bonnie looked at Ginger. “CJ falling for a protector-type?”
“I think, after Toby, she’s looking for some sort of change.”
Bonnie smiled. “You can’t get much different from Toby than Agent Simon Donovan, Secret Service. That is true. More lasagna?”
“I don’t know. Is there dessert?”
“Just the pears.”
Ginger held out her plate. “Poor CJ.”
“She’ll be fine. You can’t keep that woman down.”
“I know. Oh, I don’t want a piece that big. It’s not the stalker, so much. It’s everyone acting like she’s completely fragile now.”
Bonnie repositioned the knife. “I don’t think anyone’s doing that.”
“Toby is. Thank you.”
“Toby does it anyway.”
Ginger nodded. Absently, as she poked her lasagna with her fork, she started humming. Bonnie looked over at her. “What’s that?”
Ginger looked up. “What’s what?”
“The song. What are you humming?”
“Oh. I didn’t notice I was doing that. Sorry.”
Bonnie swallowed her mouthful of wine. “Don’t apologize. I just wondered what the song was.”
“I’m not sure. I think it was—“ Ginger clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Ginger?” Bonnie’s hand covered hers. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just...I can’t believe I’m humming that song at a time like this.”
“Which one?” Redheads blush so beautifully, Bonnie thought. “Ginger.”
Ginger sighed and hung her head. “’Ominous Man.’”
Bonnie started laughing. “That’s terrible.” She couldn’t stop the laughter. “Oh, Ginger, that’s just awful.”
“I know.” Ginger looked more mortified every second.
“Put it on.”
“What?” Ginger’s eyes were wide enough to drown in.
“Put on the song. I want to...I don’t know. It’s morbid, and now it’s going to be stuck in our heads all night. We might as well listen to it all the way through.”
Ginger considered Bonnie as though deciding just how insane the she was. How insane they both were. She disappeared into the bedroom, emerging a minute later with the CD. She slipped it into the stereo and held out her hand. “Want to dance?”
“To this song?”
Ginger shrugged. “We’ve danced to weirder.” She grinned. “’Hail to the Chief.’ The national anthem.”
Grinning back, Bonnie took Ginger’s hand and let herself be pulled upright and into Ginger’s arms. The dark head pressed against the fair, they swayed around the kitchenette and couldn’t keep themselves from singing along.
I should be half a mile from here.
Bonnie laughed, though it wasn’t funny.
I will go anywhere she goes
Shoulder the bags of a previous lover.
I will go anywhere she goes
Sleep on the pillow that reeks of another.
A will of mine to be impressive
I’m an amorous man.
Bonnie sighed and relaxed against Ginger’s body.
“It’s almost a love song at this point,” Ginger said. “It’s almost normal. Sweet, even.” She lazily spun Bonnie away and then back.
“It’s still creepy. Especially if you know what comes next.” Which they did.
I will go anywhere she goes
Travel whenever, whatever the distance.
The court deemed me to be offensive
I’m an ominous man.
Once love is unanimous,
No other demands.
It was awful - awful - to be singing a song about a stalker when one of their dearest friends was being stalked. But four years working for Toby pretty much guaranteed that their sense of humor was going to be terrible, was going to be unbearable to anyone other than themselves.
I should be half a mile from here.
The court deemed me to be obsessive
I’m the ominous man.
Jury rejects the alibi seemingly watertight
For the ominous man.
I am the ominous man.
The song faded out. Brian Vander Ark sang about nursery rhyme figurines, and Bonnie and Ginger stopped dancing. “Are we terrible people?”
Bonnie shook her head. “We’re warped. All the shit that’s fallen on us in the last four years – I think it was inevitable.”
“We’re singing about stalkers and restraining orders.”
“We do what we have to do to get through the days, Ginger.”
“I guess.” She crossed to the stereo and turned it off. “Will CJ be all right?”
“Sure. She has Agent Simon Donovan, Secret Service, to protect her now.”
Ginger giggled. “Why do we keep referring to him by his full name and title?”
Bonnie shrugged. “It makes him sound mysterious. Like James Bond, maybe.”
“Donovan. Simon Donovan.” Ginger shook her head. “Doesn’t work.”
Bonnie sighed. “It’s time to do dishes, 009.”
“009? No way. He always dies at the beginning of the movie.”
“You wash, I dry.” Bonnie was halfway to the sink.
“Hey, Bonnie?” Bonnie paused and looked back. “I will go anywhere you go.”
Bonnie smiled. “I know. Grab that salad bowl, will you?”
END