TITLE: Something that Matters AUTHOR: Kasey POST-EP: Manchester1 RATING: PG-13, CJ-centric, POTUS/CJ in a father-daughter way SUMMARY:  “You’re done when I say you are.  Not before.” DISCLAIMERS: I do not own them. NOTE: Very quick and unbeta-ed story.  Please let me know what you think. There is a knock at my door. Y’know, that’s the first time there has been a knock at my door in the past two years? Leo’s the only one whose presence isn’t announced by Charlie, and Leo doesn’t knock. “Yeah,” I bellow, not looking up from the papers I’m not really reading.  I hear the door slowly creak open, then slowly close again.  Quiet shoes approaching.  I don’t look up until she speaks. “Sir?” She towers over the chair she stands beside, her heels firmly planted in the middle of the Great Seal.  But this is not the CJ Cregg we all know and love. Her hair is mussed, as though she has run her hands through it over and over and over again.  Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying and has tried miserably to hide it by running a wet napkin over her face in the Ladies Room.  There are wet spots on the sleeves of her blue shirt, and she’s slouching slightly.  CJ doesn’t slouch.  She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t wipe her tears on her sleeves like a first-grader.  This is CLAUDIA JEAN CREGG, she plays with the big boys and she does a damn good job. Not today. But we **all** have off days, it’s not like I haven’t made a dumbass of myself before on television. Something tells me they’re gonna be harder on her than on me. Thing is…I knew exactly what she meant.  Something that matters – something that involves real people and real problems and real issues.  Not some candyass investigation because no one thinks anyone should have any privacy until they themselves need to hide something.  Actual lives.  Actual pluses and minuses and pros and cons that actually affect more than just me and Abby. She looks too damn timid to be CJ as she begins to speak.  “Mr. President, I assume that, by now, you’ve heard about what happened in my briefing.” “Yeah.”  Of course I’ve heard – Everyone’s heard.  And that’s gonna be the soundbyte.  It’s gonna surpass my “Eight years ago, I was diagnosed with relapsing-remitting course of Multiple Sclerosis.” “I apologize, sir.  It was a very amateur mistake…” Since when does she call herself amateur? Normally she gets pissed when anyone else does… “…and it will cost, I’m sure, the administration a lot of unnecessary problems and grief.”  I don’t speak – it probably will, but I don’t want to say it. “It is on that note that I offer my letter of resignation.”  She hands me an envelope, sealed, which contains the letter, I’m certain.  “It has been an honour to work for you, Mr. President, one I will not soon, if ever, forget.” She sounds too formal. She turns to leave, and only turns back when she hears the sound of ripping paper. I throw the remnants of the letter into the trash can.  “I don’t accept.” “Sir-“ “I don’t accept your letter.  You serve at the pleasure of the President.  You’re done and you go when I tell you.” She looks puzzled. “We’ll fix it,” I assure her, and she grins – it lights up her whole face like rarely something does. “Thank you, Mr. President.” She turns to leave again, and once more I bring her back.  “CJ.” “Yes, sir?” “Don’t screw up like that again.” “No, sir,” she replies, a little flustered once more.  “I’m very sorry.  It won’t happen again.” And with that, she’s gone. But not for long – she’ll be back at the next staff meeting, possibly before.  And, in time, I’m sure everyone else will forgive her – it was an honest mistake. I’ve heard about what Sam said to Leo, about some people having more time to deal than others…it’s not enough time.  None of them have had enough time to deal with this, hell it took me most of the eight years.  CJ’s had less than eight days.  Let’s cut her some slack. That goes for all of the staff. The staff…my extra family beyond Abby and the girls…That’s something that matters.