******************
It had been a long day. But when wasn’t it? Leo stretched out on the couch in his office, staring out his window, the stack of folders on the floor by his hand forgotten for the moment. A rapping on his door brought him back most of the way to the present, the job at hand, but not completely.
“Leo? Is this a bad time? ‘Cause I could—“
He waved her in. “No, it’s okay, CJ. I was just…”
“I hear ya.” The tall press secretary settled into the empty space at the end of the couch. “I called a full lid.”
“I was watching. You do a great job with them. I don’t know if we tell you that enough.”
She smiled. “Really, you don’t, but I’m used to it by now, so—“
For reasons she couldn’t begin to imagine, this angered him. “You shouldn’t be. Damn it, we shouldn’t be taking each other for granted. And we sure as hell shouldn’t be ‘used to it.’” He sighed, realizing CJ would have no idea that he had been thinking about his failed marriage when she walked through the door.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you guys piss me off a whole lot of the time.”
He had to laugh. “Yeah. It really does.”
“You will go home eventually, won’t you? You know how much he hates it when you stay all night.” She jerked her head toward the Oval Office.
“I seldom stay all night, CJ,” he protested.
“Right. Just ‘til 3, so you can take a shower and change before you come back at 5.”
“You worry about me too much.”
“No less than you worry about us.” She smiled sweetly, and he couldn’t help smiling back.
“Which reminds me—“
“Sam and Josh?”
“Yeah. Are we sure they’re all right? It's been a month since ATVA — I don’t like to pry—“
“Believe me when I tell you you want nothing to do with that.”
“Then I will sit over here and stay the hell out of it.”
“Good man.” She stood. “It’s quarter after eleven. I’m outta here."
“G’night, CJ. And, really, you kicked ass today.” Without thinking, he reached over and grabbed her hand. She looked surprised for a moment (but then, he imagined, he must, too), then squeezed his hand, briefly, before heading for the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Leo.”
For the first time in months, Leo McGarry was home by midnight.
***********
Two days later, when he showed up outside her office, she was staring out her window with an expression almost identical to the one he had had. "Hey."
“Hey yourself.”
The chief of staff leaned on the doorframe. “You talk to Osgood?”
“Yeah. He’s an insufferable jackass.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. We were in the cabinet together for two years. But he’ll do the thing?”
“Yeah. He’ll bitch and complain and go to the Post to take the credit, but he’ll do it.”
“Thanks for talking to him.”
“It shoulda been Toby.”
“Toby has his hands full with Gillette. And, no, it should have been you.”
“I’m just saying—“
“And I’m just saying we don’t give you the credit you deserve. You worked hard to crack the boys’ club, and we ought to treat you the same way we treat each other.”
“OK, as long as you don’t start snapping my butt with your towel.”
He blinked. “Boy, was that an image I didn’t need.”
“Sorry.” As he turned to go, she crossed the room to stand beside him at the door. “Listen, Leo—“ She paused, not sure how to phrase the question.
“Why am I being so nice to you? I’m kind of an enigma that way, aren’t I?” Well, wasn’t that just like him? Reading her mind and not answering her all at once. He frowned, and CJ was unable to look away from the firm curve of his mouth as it flipped itself into a smile. “Well, don’t tell the other kids, but I’ve always liked you best.”
She laughed. God, she has the most beautiful laugh. Too damned bad this job doesn’t inspire her to do it more often.
“I always knew you were a push-over, McGarry.” Without thinking, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. A half-second brush, that was all it was, but a heat that burned underneath scorched a memory on their lips. Their eyes widened, but neither said a thing. They just stood for a minute and kind of…stared. CJ leaned away slightly and returned to her desk, bumping into it as she walked. “OK. I’m going to go do…”
“Work?” He sounded only slightly less flustered than she did.
“Yeah. Work. That’ll be good. I’ll see you around, then.”
“Yeah.” He walked away, stopping to look over his shoulder toward her office, shaking his head.
For the first time in months, CJ Cregg was in her office all night.
**********
By the following week, it had become impossible to hide — at least from themselves — that something weird was going on. Leo stared at any TV that might have CJ's face on it. CJ invented preposterous excuses to hang around Leo's office on the off chance he might wander past. And when he did — Lord help them both at those moments, because the rest of the world faded for a moment neither could afford. For that split second, there was no more Leo McGarry, Chief of Staff, no more CJ Cregg, Press Secretary. There was only CJ and Leo, two people swimming against an undertow that would not release them.
He had never been so grateful that the senior staff was oblivious to anything that wasn't something exploding in the Middle East. It would be months before they had an inkling of anything untoward in the air, and by then (he prayed to every saint whose name he could recollect) he and CJ would be over whatever the hell this was.
Margaret was another matter altogether. Whenever CJ left his office, Margaret was in half a beat later, looking how the way she did when she channeled the collective guilt of every Catholic mother who ever lived. He couldn't stand her silent rebuke another second. "If you disapprove, you can say something. Although there's nothing to disapprove of — not in the way you think."
She shook her head. "I'm not disapproving of anything, Leo. It's not for me to say."
He pointed to the Oval Office. "The only person in this building who knows me as well as you do is through that door." If you have something to say, I want to hear it."
His assistant took a deep breath. "Ask her out, Leo."
He sat back in his chair. "That wasn't what I expected."
"If you'd asked me last week, I'd have said knock it off. I would have reminded you what a horrid idea — the legal ramifications, the publicity scandal — but now…If you keep ignoring it, it'll just be there, festering, and eventually it'll explode."
He shook his head. "Margaret, I don't think I can—"
"I don't think you have a choice."
They stared each other down for a minute, then Leo dropped his eyes. "When did you get to be so wise?"
She shook her head. "I'm not. I just know you."
He watched her leaving, trying not to think about the mess of emotions her advice had stirred up in him. "Yeah," he said, though she was long gone, "I guess you do." ******
"CJ. Walk with me, will you?"
A dozen reactions collided in CJ's gut. Usually those words meant trouble, and plenty had happened to get her in trouble today. A little snafu with the press during the noon briefing. A blow-up at Sam after lunch. A misplaced letter from the President of France at 2. Only the debacle in the pressroom had been her fault, but people (and by "people" she meant "Toby") found ways to blame her. On the other hand, the way things had been going — or not going — between her and Leo lately, she seized every opportunity to be near him. "Sure. What's up?"
"Let's wait 'til we're outside, OK?" He kept running his hand through his hair, fiddling with the lapel of his suit-coat, tapping his thigh. CJ's body started soaking up that nervous energy; she caught the toe of her shoe on imaginary obstacles, cleared her throat repeatedly, laughed at nothing at all. Just outside the door, he turned and said — "CJ, we can't keep doing this."
She looked at him in some shock. "Keep doing what?"
"This…thing we're doing. Pretending there's nothing going on but killing ourselves trying to be near each other."
Her body deflated. Here it comes. The "we are professionals in a fish bowl" speech. The fact that he was absolutely right was less than helpful.
"Margaret thinks I should ask you out."
She had to giggle. Of course Margaret would be the one person who'd caught on. CJ was amazed the news hadn't been leaked to every assistant in the building. "Well, Margaret knows you pretty well, but she's wrong on this one."
"No, I don't think she is." He stood back and waited.
"You can't mean—"
"You kissed me."
"You grabbed my hand!"
"Exactly."
"Leo, you know you mean the world to me, so please don't take it wrong when I ask if you've completely taken leave of your senses."
That's the problem. I think I have."
"Oh, no. Leo McGarry is not that guy. Not the 'I've fallen madly in love with you and now I can't think straight' guy."
"I never said that. I'm not saying I want us to run off to Greenwich Village and get married, but—"
"Greenwich Village? Leo, that's so sweet. And 19th century."
"I'm trying to have a serious conversation here, and you're making fun of me."
"I'm sorry. I tend to bring the sarcasm when I'm nervous."
"Am I making you nervous?" He looked truly concerned.
"Are you making me nervous?" she echoed. "We're standing less than 200 yards from the Oval Office, you're my boss, and you just asked me out. Of course you are!"
He smiled. "Good. Because I haven't felt this awkward since…well, I can't remember when, so I'm glad you're down here with me."
"Leo, do you see how badly we can't do this? We can't even stay on topic long enough to figure out if you're actually asking me out."
"No, I think we took care of that part."
"Leo"
"Now we have to determine if you're saying yes."
"How can I—how can I? Think of the…the hell it would be."
He nodded. "I have. Believe me, I have thought about it many times. Then I think about the hell it's been this week trying to deny anything's going on — sooner or later, CJ, someone with less decorum than Margaret will put two and two together. If we work through this thing like mature adults, we may just work right on out of it before that happens."
She studied his face, and he didn't flinch. "Do you really believe that?"
He shook his head sadly. "No." He turned away. "It was worth a shot."
"Then my answer is absolutely yes. Let's do it."
He stopped. "What?"
"See, if you'd — no woman likes to hear she's being asked out so the guy can get over her. But if you really think this could go somewhere—"
"Honestly, CJ, I can't begin to tell you where I think this could go. But we owe it to ourselves to find out together."
CJ closed her eyes. She felt like a helium balloon on a very thin string. She could drift off into the sky if she wanted, leave it all behind. Or she could stay tethered down here a little, and see and feel a few amazing things before the air started to leak out. She laughed gently.
Leo's eyes lit up at the sound. "What's so funny?"
"Just wondering what Toby would say if he heard the awful metaphor that went through my mind just now."
"Probably the same thing he'd say if he heard the one in mine."
"Which was what?"
He shrugged."
"It had something to do with people fixing up condemned houses."
They laughed again, and Leo's hand brushed CJ's. "It's gonna be hard. Unbearable, sometimes. You know that, right?"
She nodded. "I'm ready. What is it Lionel's always saying?"
Leo frowned. "'I'm going to kill people today'?"
"No; the other thing," she said, laughing.
"'I have yet to encounter an obstacle I could not somehow avoid, overcome, or kick the shit out of.'"
"Yeah. That's it. Let's go meet our obstacles."
END