Character: CJ

Rating: Child

A/N: This takes place in the Dark History universe.

Disclaimer: There is no copyright infringement intended on the characters that are owned by WB, NBC, John Wells, and Aaron Sorkin. I make no money from any of the West Wing fic that I write and do not intend to do so.

Spoilers: “Requiem”

I’m staring at His chair, wondering where the hell I’m meant to go from here. I’ve got calls from the guys who want to be Speaker and a call to return to the office of the President-Elect. Why they called when I can just go talk to him is beyond me, and I’m just staring at His chair.

He’d come in for lunch, and laugh because He couldn’t steal anything junky off my plate. He always wondered how I survive on salad alone. I’d tell Him that dinner was always salad and a piece of bread, and breakfast a bagel. It wasn’t just rabbit food. He’d bemoan bacon. Once, right before He went off to run for Vice President, I ordered a BLT from the mess. Margaret wasn’t fooled, but she didn’t say a thing. After He found out I lost the baby, He called me every day at lunch. He wanted to make sure I was eating. I’d lie. He knew it and then he’d call Margaret and get her on my case. I’d call Annabeth and get her on His.

I asked him, many times, why He thought I could do this job. He always said that I was meant to, He knew it a long time ago, and they’d almost given me Toby’s job before they gave Toby his job. He said that He trusted me. He said He wanted Josh to usher in a new era, but only I could handle this one. He said there was more for me than the confines of the White House. He told me once that He wanted to see me doing something more than Chief of Staff, He wanted to see me smile. He told me to dare to love – something He’d never wanted to do.

He’d call me, after midnight, and order me to go home. I’d tell Him to mind his own business. We loved each other; it was more than passionate or romantic love. He wasn’t a father, He was more than a mentor – He was everything. I think if, in the memoirs that I’ll be forced to write before I pass off this mortal coil, I am forced to describe how we truly were – we were siblings. Brother and sister to a seat that only two people filled. In a time when political appointees only last for two years at the most, together we lasted eight. And when I kneel at His grave, I only hope that I served Him well.

Mallory left something for me earlier … something that only she could know I would want. I came in and an old blanket was folded onto the chair, His Air Force blanket, the blanket that lived in this office from the day we moved in until I took His place. More than once I would come in, He and I would be the only two left in the building, and He’d be asleep, the blanket pulled over His knees. And now it’s mine, my memory of a man who groomed me to be the woman that I am. The fabric is warm in my hands, threadbare, well loved. But it doesn’t belong in my hands. I drape it over His chair, and I know that I will never sit there again. My days in this office are numbered, only two more months to make the difference Leo dreamed of making, and now I have Him watching me. From that chair.