Pairing: CJ/OFC (Sydney Ludlow)

Disclaimer: CJ Cregg is, unfortunately, not mine. If she were, I wouldn’t owe what I owe, and I would also be living in LA, writing for the West Wing. So, no, I don’t make any money off of her or any of the other characters that were created by Aaron Sorkin (or later on, John Wells, et al.) Melissa, Lila, and Sydney Ludlow, however, are all mine. And so are any other original characters.

Author’s note: This is what happens when a plot bunny gets into your head and won’t let go.

Timeframe: Covers the whole series, but chapter three is back-story, back-story, back-story.

If pacing was an Olympic sport, Sydney would have taken the US to the Gold Medal Platform four times since she’d started up her vigil six hours ago. Six hours since watching the ambulance roll CJ back down the ER corridor, five-and-a-half since they’d whisked CJ up to the surgical floor. Three-and-a-half since the doctor had told her only that he had to wait for CJ’s family to get there before he could say anything. Half an hour since Mike had arrived from Napa and Sydney had hung around, barely out of sight, listening to him talk with the doctor about her girlfriend’s fate.

“I won’t lie, it could still go either way, but I think she’ll pull through. She lost a lot of blood at the scene and we had to give her a transfusion to stabilize her. She’s doing much better and there doesn’t appear to be any sign of severe brain damage, although the bleeding in her kidney is worrisome.”

“Can you stop it?”

“We were able to stop the bleeding in one, but the other is still in pretty bad shape and there is a chance we’ll have to remove it. That won’t affect her health too much, provided she recovers fully from this accident, but it does mean a change for CJ. We’ll know more in a couple of days. Until then, we’re going to keep her in the ICU until she regains consciousness and until the bleeding in her kidney comes to a stop. If it doesn’t in the next day or so, we’ll have to operate again.”

“When do you think she’ll regain consciousness?”

“It could be as early as tomorrow, it could be weeks from now. She’s in a lower state of consciousness, like a light coma, partially induced by the surgical team, but mostly because of the blow to her head.”

“You said there is no sign of brain damage?”

“We don’t think so. There is swelling, but nothing to indicate there is permanent damage. We’ll know more when she wakes up.”

“This problem with her kidneys …”

“We won’t know for sure for a couple of days.” The doctor gave the worried brother a bit of a smile. “Your sister will pull through though.”

“When can I see her? And who can see her?” Mike looked back over his shoulder and coaxed Sydney out from behind the corner.

“Well, ICU rules are rules.” The doctor looked at Sydney with barely concealed disdain. “Family only.”

“I am family.” Sydney glared at him. “I’m the one who –“

“Syd.” Mike shook his head. Now wasn’t a time to get into politics with a doctor who couldn’t see past his stethoscope. “I’ll talk to someone.”

“In the mean time,” the doctor nodded to Mike, “you can see her.”

“Wait here, Syd.” Mike smiled gently, “I’ll check on her and let you know …”

“Yeah.” She waited until the doors swung closed behind the two men before resuming her pacing. She’d walked away from the accident with a bruised arm and a cut above her eyebrow. CJ might have problems for the rest of her life. Fuck this. Fuck all of it. How dare they tell her that intensive care was just for families? She WAS family.

After what felt like an hour, but had only been fifteen minutes, the doors to the ICU swung open and Mike emerged, looking tired and worried. “They have hope.” He sighed and took her hand, “I think she’ll be okay.” Of all the Cregg family, Mike and his wife were the two who had welcomed Sydney into the family with open arms. He couldn’t stand to see the look in Sydney’s eyes, “I’m going to do my best to get you in to see her, okay?”

“Thanks, Mike.” Sydney didn’t bother to not cry. “Thanks.”

*** Mike emerged from the seclusion of the ICU ward with a smile on his face. Sydney looked up at him from the homework she hadn’t been able to concentrate on, “Mike?”

“She’s awake. The bleeding in her kidney has completely stopped. They’re taking the tube out and preparing to transfer her out of ICU. She’s going to be fine.”

Sydney squealed and leapt up, wrapping her arms around Mike. He spun her around and then looked at the rest of the family. “They said they’d come get us when she was settled in a room.”

“That means I get to see her, right?”

Mike laughed. “Yes, you can. In fact, I think you should see her first.”

“We won’t want to overwhelm CJ. She’s going to be tired.” Tal Cregg regarded Sydney carefully. “Maybe –“

“Dad,” Mike broke in, “We’ve all had the chance to sit with CJ. All of us except Sydney. She deserves the chance to see her and see her first. It’s going to be a while before they come and get us, so why don’t we all go find something to eat.”

“I will once I see her,” Sydney settled back on the couch, “I don’t want them to have to come searching.” Something still didn’t feel right, and she didn’t know what it was or why, but there was this thing that had been pricking at the back of her mind since the accident. She told herself she was being silly and that it was just because she hadn’t seen CJ yet, but she couldn’t shake it. Shadows scared her now, as if something was looming, waiting, watching.

“Hey, Ceejie.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes and focused on the blurry figure in front of her. “Lila?” She wasn’t sure if she spoke outloud or not, but her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

“Yeah, sweetie. Damn girl, you look pretty banged up. Glad you came back down this side of the pipes though, Heaven ain’t ready for what you’re gonna be bringing and I’m sure Satan’s scared of you.”

“Why are you here? Am I dreaming?” Everything still felt fuzzy.

“I just came to tell you to watch yourself. You came back down the pipes this side, but it isn’t over yet and when you finally give in, honey, I want you to know that I’ll be here, waiting for you and I’ll help you over. You aren’t alone and I’m watching out for you. Made a deal with the All Mighty, I get to get a pair of wings.”

“What?” She reached for Lila, “What are you talking about?”

“Just take care of yourself honey. It isn’t over and I’m gonna keep that shadow at bay for as long as I can, but none of us are that strong. The preachers were right about one thing, there’s a devil loose in the world.”

“Lila?” CJ felt soft fingers brush over her face. “Lila, what are you talking about?”

“It’s bitten you, baby. And I’m so sorry. I really am. You don’t deserve this, no one does, but really you don’t. It’s not your fault. But I’ll be right here behind you the whole way, I promise.”

“What?” She reached again, but Lila was already backing up.

They’re on their way in to see you, so I’m gonna vanish now. But I’m here. I love you, honey. I love you.”

“What?”

She heard a door open and turned, focusing her eyes on the two women who walked in. They emerged from shadow, one dressed in pink scrubs, the other in ratted jeans and an old t-shirt. Even after the door closed behind them, the shadow remained, invading the room. Behind the two women, CJ thought she could make out another, a tall blonde dressed in flashy jeans and a sequined shirt, but the image went foggy and then vanished and the room was just a room and it was Sydney standing next to the nurse, the door shut behind them.

“Sweetie …” Sydney ran over and took CJ’s hand in her own. “Oh, God, you’re okay.”

“What about you?” The dream started to fade as CJ looked up at the fading bruise and stitches over Sydney’s eye.

“I’m fine, Sweetie, really. You took the brunt of it. God, you’re gonna be okay though. Seriously.” Sydney took her hands and kissed them. “I love you so much.”

The last remnants of Lila’s visit flaked away and CJ looked fully at her girlfriend. “I’m sorry you’ve been so worried.”

“You should be.” Sydney stroked her face. “And I’ll make you pay me back when I get you home.”

“I hurt, Sydney … they … they said my kidneys are messed up. I’ve also got someone else’s blood flowing through my veins.”

“That person’s blood saved your life.” Sydney finally allowed herself to take a seat in one of the chairs near the bed. “If I could find him or her, I’d kiss him.”

“Yeah …” CJ linked fingers with Sydney. “Me too.” She focused on Sydney, and not on the shadows in the room.

CJ limped to the couch and settled gingerly. “I can’t believe I’m finally home.”

“Me either.” Sydney locked the door and crossed the small living room to kneel in front of CJ. “You need anything?”

“You.” She smiled a bit. “You, a warm bath …”

“Hmmm.” Sydney kissed her gently. “I think a warm bath is still out of the question, but how about I check your dressings, get you into bed, and we snuggle up for the rest of the night.”

CJ sighed. “Almost as good. I just need to get the hospital off of me is all. If I never see the inside of one again, seriously, for all the clichés, it will be too soon.”

“I know.” With soft fingertips, Sydney traced the outline of CJ’s face. “I’m still … so grateful … that you woke up and you woke up okay. And I had some serious words with Lila and I told her it wasn’t funny at all that this happened and she needed to have some words with God when she saw him.”

CJ giggled. “I had a dream one night about Lila. At least I think it was a dream. She was sitting on my bed, talking to me about something, but I couldn’t make it out. Whatever it was, it was serious, like she wanted me to know something … but … it was dream world, you know.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. It was just the medications. They had you doped up pretty good.”

“I’m still doped up pretty good.” CJ leaned back into the thin couch. “But hey, we all have to live through one of these in our lifetime, right? So, I’ve had mine.”

“Yeah, don’t do it again.” Sydney kissed CJ gently before getting up and going to get the bedroom ready.

1986

“Tell me something.” The voice preceded the slamming of the door and the dropping of a heavy backpack to the floor.

“Tell you what?” Sydney emerged from the bedroom, still pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

“How it is that a graduate professor at UC Berkeley can be a conservative asshole? It’s Berkeley, for Christ’s sake!”

“I think there’s a quota to fill. Why, what did Dr. Dumbass say today?”

“Oh …” CJ plopped into a chair and kicked off her heels. “Just that it was the media itself that fuels the rise in cases such as domestic violence.”

“The media as in violence on TV?”

“Reporting on it.”

“What?”

“And when I argued that it was the cases of reported violence that gave women the confidence to report their own situations, he said that women who were actually in danger were going to report it, no matter what.”

“He said that? Does he look at the numbers or does he just sit around with his thumb up his ass?”

“He’s doing what pollsters do I guess, interpreting the numbers.”

“No, politicians interpret the numbers, you’ve said that to me a million times. It’s the job of the pollster to collect the data and report it accurately.”

“But what is accurate reporting?” She took the beer Sydney brought to her. “All poll results have to be analyzed.”

“But this isn’t a poll. These are actual numbers of women who have reported cases, these numbers are taken from case law, correct?”

“Supposedly.” CJ sighed. “Anyway, how was your day?”

“I’m starting to regret constitutional law.”

“No you aren’t.”

“No, I’m not.” She laughed. “But I do have a ton of reading to do tonight.”

“Me too. And an impromptu paper that was assigned to me where I get to prove Dr. Dumbass wrong.”

“Want to order a pizza and crack the books?”

“Do we have any of that wine left?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Then it’s do it. Let me go change, you order.” CJ stood up, slowly, her back was hurting her today. “After class,” she said, suddenly, turning back to look at Sydney, “I went by Lila’s grave. Someone’s been there recently, the headstone was polished and there were fresh lilies. It seemed so peaceful.”

Sydney smiled, “Did you two have a good conversation?”

“Sorta … I mean …” CJ shrugged. “I can’t describe it.”

“Then you aren’t meant to.” Sydney waved her toward the bedroom. “Go on and change and I’ll order a pizza with what’s left of our money.” She chuckled, “All this starving for our cause is worth it, right?”

“Yes.” CJ called back over her shoulder. “Of course it is.”

1988

“I don’t believe it!” CJ shrieked as she read the letter. “The UN! Counsel in the Secretary General’s office! God, Sydney, this is where you wanted to be!” She raced across the tiny apartment and tackled her girlfriend, sending them both into the couch with a “thud”. CJ, still recovering from a painful bout of kidney stones, winced but then wrapped her arms around the woman she loved. “This is going to be so great for you.”

“But what about us? Your grad work is keeping you here and I don’t know if I can handle being away from you like this. We’ve never been apart before.”

“Baby,” CJ sat back and shook her head. “This is the UN! You’re going.”

“But what about you?”

“I am going to pine away for you every night and you’re leaving your favorite vibrator for me to play with.” CJ grinned. “Seriously, Sydney, you’ve been drooling over this job ever since you heard about it and anyway, there’s that course sharing program with Columbia. I can apply for it, and maybe we can spend next year together.”

“You sure? I mean, money’s about to get really tight now, with us having to each pay rent and –“

“Sydney Victoria Ludlow, I swear to god, if you keep trying to talk us out of this decision after you’ve been lusting after this job since you found out about it, I’m going to take the mirror and break it over your head. You’re going.” She cupped Sydney’s face in her hands. “We swore to each other when we started this relationship that we wouldn’t let us get in the way of what we had dreamed of. Sydney, I’m not going anywhere. I love you and you’re stuck with me from now until the end of time, okay? I love you. And that love is going to stretch across the continental divide and follow you all the way to New York. You deserve this.”

Sydney felt the tears well up in her eyes. “Okay.” She leaned forward and kissed CJ passionately, taking the upper hand and rolling them to the floor.

1989 ~ Manhattan, NY

“Ceej?” Sydney wandered down the hall and into their bedroom. She’d seen CJ’s briefcase, right next to her heels and the black blazer, so she knew her girlfriend was home from class. It was unusual for her to not respond to her name, though. “CJ?” She paused in the door to the bedroom and smiled. CJ was curled up on top of the comforter, her teddy bear hooked in one arm and her battered copy of And the Band Played On, the copy Sydney had given to her four years ago, open next to her. Her glasses were skewed on her nose, and the tiniest snores came from her throat. She made her way over to the bed and crawled across the bedspread, waking CJ up in the process. “Hey, sexy.”

“Hmmm.” CJ smiled. “What’s up?”

“You feeling okay?” Sydney wasn’t immune to the fact that over the past year, CJ seemed to spend more and more of her waking hours, asleep. Especially these past few months. CJ had been hit with a cold the minute she’d stepped off the plane, and months later she was still feeling the effects of it. Doctors had told her that it was the time of the year and that she could just expect it as her body got used to living in New York rather than San Francisco. They’d given her allergy medications and cold pills and told her to just keep on going. But Sydney saw shadows following them.

“Yeah. Just a long day and I came home to lose myself in the AIDS crisis and promptly fell asleep I guess.” She sat up and stretched a bit. “I had a dream about Lila.”

“Lila, really?”

“Yeah. She was just standing here at the bed,” CJ sighed, “she took my hand and she looked so sad.”

“CJ …” Sydney never knew what to say when CJ had the dreams about Lila.

But CJ saved her by moving teddy and the book and leaning back against the pillows. “How was your day? And did you get the mail?”

“My day was fine. Tiring, but fine. And you actually have mail.” Sydney handed over a long, white envelope. “Why would Berkeley General be sending you something?”

CJ shrugged. “Maybe old patients are on a mailing list? She ripped open the envelope. “What else did we get?”

“Power bill, student loan bills, my father’s quarterly diatribe about our lifestyle.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “Nothing that can’t wait.”

“Yeah.” CJ unfolded the letter and frowned. The color drained from her face and her hands started to shake. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Sydney frowned. “What?”

CJ looked at her, “They … I need to go in for a blood test … they … they think that the transfusion I got after the accident … they think it was …”

“No.” Sydney grabbed the letter and skimmed it. Cases like this were all over the news but she honestly hadn’t thought twice about it. CJ was in perfect health. But here it was, telling them that CJ had been the recipient of blood possibly infected with HIV. “No, this … you’re fine. I mean, it’s been four years since the accident. You’ve never shown any sign of being sick. This is just a formality. We’ll go down to the clinic and get you tested.” But as she sat there, holding the letter, their life flashed before her eyes. CJ had been sick, more than once. There were fevers that spiked rapidly and kept her in bed for days, she slept all the time, and it took her forever to recover from even the simplest cold. Why hadn’t they thought of this before? “You’re okay, Sweetie.” She put down the letter. “Really, you have to be.” When she looked up, she saw shadows.

“You’ll be fine …” Tears streamed down Sydney’s cheeks. “Really, we’ll get you on the cocktail and you’ll be fine. You’re healthy, CJ, and it’s only HIV … thank God. You …” She crumpled the test results in her hand. “You’re healthy. That isn’t going to change.” When her ranting was greeting with silence, she looked over to see CJ still standing by the window, her arms wrapped around her waist. Rain pelted against the glass, the drops leaving muddy rivers in their wake. “Baby?” Sydney’s voice caught and she walked forward, going to put her hand on CJ’s back. “Honey, please say something.”

CJ shook her head and looked down, watching the trail of one of the raindrops. “What am I supposed to say?” She said after a long minute. “What am I supposed to do? I’m dying, Sydney.”

“You aren’t. God, CJ, they said you’re lucky. It’s just the first stage of the virus and they can manage it –“

“They can’t manage anything.” She rested her head against the window. “The current administration is lost when it comes to any kind of support for … God, I’m a “people with” now. I’m a statistic. I’m something I study …” The thud her palm made as it connected with the window pane was dull compared to the anger welling up inside of her. “All I did was get into a car accident.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to be here to watch your hair turn gray. I’m not going to be around long enough to achieve everything we want to achieve.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Average life span?” CJ was shaking.

“Claudia Jean, you’ve lived with this for four years and they’re just now finding out about it. There isn’t any reason that you won’t live another forty. You’ll be choosing my nursing home, honey. Some place for old liberal loonies.” She ran her hand up CJ’s back, finally moving to rest her head against the t-shirt clad shoulder in front of her. “Sweetie, this doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything. I can get … God, what if work makes me disclose this for insurance purposes? What if …”

“So you don’t say a word. Don’t say anything and they can’t fire you.”

“Is that your legal advice, counselor?”

“Yes.” Sydney sighed. “It is. But I mean it, you’re going to be fine.”

CJ couldn’t respond. All she could do was stare at the ground far below, the throngs of umbrellas and under them, people huddled to stay dry. All these people, going around, oblivious to the fact that so many people around them were dying. Never before had she realized what a silent predator death was. But he wasn’t invisible. When she looked back over her shoulder, she could see the shadow in the room and she couldn’t stand it. So she just pulled away and walked back down the short hallway.

CJ didn't even bother turning on lights as she made her way back into the bedroom. Still by the window, Sydney could hear the bedsprings creak as CJ collapsed onto the aging mattress. And Sydney found herself running for the bathroom to vomit. This couldn't be happening. It was a fake result, a false positive. People got those all the time. There was no way in hell that CJ had this. No way.

She managed to wipe her mouth and drink some of the tap water before moving into the bedroom. CJ lay on her back, staring at the ceiling in the dusky light. "I've never noticed the patterns in the paint chips before...”

"CJ...”

"Seriously, they're beautiful." CJ's voice was dull, a lack of emotion that worried Sydney.

She came over and laid down next to her, taking position on her back and staring up at the ceiling as well. She couldn't see the beauty that CJ was seeing, but she knew CJ was seeing it. Somehow their hands joined and Sydney squeezed tightly. "You know I'm right here next to you, right? Forever."

"Let's not do this, not yet, okay? I mean, they want me back in three months, that's when we'll have a more definite idea."

"CJ."

"I'm not going to make any decisions about medications until I get a follow up test. Until then, life goes on as normal. I mean it, Sydney. I..." her voice cracked. "I won't let this...”

"Honey...”

"No." She closed her eyes, as if that would ward off the onslaught of emotion. "No. Don't. You already sound like you are planning my funeral. I can't take it."

"Okay." Sydney squeezed her hand again. "We wait three months." But it was futile, and they both knew it. Three months would only add to the tension, and would only go to show that her body was still infected with this virus. Never before had she felt such love for a person, and yet such hatred for the world. How dare God go and do this to her?

“That’s what you meant, wasn’t it …” CJ looked at the figure who stood near the bed. “That’s what you meant that night … when I woke up in the hospital.”

“Yeah, baby.” Lila sighed and walked over. She knelt near the bed and touched CJ’s arm with soft fingertips. “And I meant what I said, I’m gonna watch over you. You’ve got things to do with your life. You’ve been blessed by God, and it’s not your fault that the devil found a way to touch you too.”

“Why me?” CJ didn’t want to cry, but the tears were welling up anyway. “Why me?”

“Why me?” Lila shrugged. “It doesn’t care who it touches, it just touches. Don’t let it defeat you, honey.”

CJ rolled away and buried her face in the pillow to smother her tears. Someone else’s blood was running through her veins, someone else had given this to her. She could feel the differences like spider webs, clogging her passages and clamping a hand around her heart. “It isn’t fair,” she sobbed quietly, feeling Lila’s hand on her back. “God, it isn’t fair.”

“It never is, Ceejie. It never is.”

Sydney stared blankly at the pamphlets, the numbers for the counselors, and the piece of white paper that sealed CJ's fate. In the bedroom, CJ slept, having finally given in to the exhaustion and shock of the day. Sleep was beyond Sydney.

This disease was nothing new to either of them. She'd lost count of how many people they'd buried over the years, how many friends were still battling it. But now, it was different. Now, it wasn't a funeral to help plan for or the reminder that Angel or David was in the hospital and it was their turn to go and sit watch. Now, it meant pills in the medicine cabinet and watching for changes in weight and sleep and keeping an eye out for lesions and tests for cervical cancer. Now it meant living wills and official power of attorney. For the first time in the five years they'd been together, Sydney found herself facing a future that might not include CJ.

Tears floated in her vision as she stared at "HIV and your partner". She couldn't read anything anymore; she couldn't be the lawyer, the strong one, the one who would work everything out. She couldn't. It was too much. All she could do was be here and help and be strong and help CJ work everything out. For five minutes, right after CJ had fallen asleep, she’d contemplated leaving. But she couldn’t. CJ was her partner, and they were in this together, no matter what.

"Sydney...”

"God!" She felt her body jump at least six feet and turned to stare at CJ. She stood in front of her, dressed in a pair of black satin PJ pants and an old Ministry tour tank. Her long hair was up in a ponytail and her face looked freshly scrubbed, as if she'd tried to wash away the tear stains. Her perfectly expressive blue eyes were haunted, revealing the terror beneath the shield she was trying to keep up. "Sweetie, I'm sorry, you just scared me."

"I noticed." CJ came forward a few paces and flipped on the overhead light, shutting out the night of New York and bringing the walls closer around them. Suddenly the world was four off-white walls, pictures of family and friends, the framed prints of Van Gogh and Picasso, a battered faux-leather couch, a glass dining table, two second hand chairs, the tape player, and piles of papers all relating to the world of HIV. Suddenly the world was smaller, two women and a disease that floated between them. "I didn't mean to."

"No, it's okay. I was just...”

"Yeah, me too." Their hands found each other and their fingers linked - red and pearl nail polish graced perfectly manicured nails, and matching silver rings decorated well cared for fingers. It all looked perfect, comfortable and it felt distinctly unreal.

"How are you feeling, seriously?"

CJ pulled away and walked to the window, staring past her reflection and down into the alley below. Across the small space between the walk up tenements, CJ could see into the apartment of the family from Puerto Rico. The mother was cooking dinner, the father read the paper, and the older children took turns with the baby. In that family, the problems were trying to learn English, trying to afford health care, and making sure that the authorities knew they were in this country legally. They had no cares for the neighbor across the way; they didn't know she was dying. "Alone."

"Ceej...”

She just stared at the family, and then refocused her eyes back to her reflection. Twelve hours ago, she'd have stared at herself and chuckled at the breasts that would never grow larger and turned a few times in the mirror, making sure that it was just water retention and not actual weight gain that was making her stomach stick out a bit. She'd have fingered her hair and decided it was time to cut and re-perm it. She'd have made a flippant comment about needing a pedicure. Now she just stared, seeing her body not as a whole but as jagged corners and angles, geometric shapes put together haphazardly and bound with a thin covering of flesh-colored masking tape. "Remember nineteen-eighty-three?" She asked, softly.

"Yeah. I was preparing to transfer to Berkeley for the eighty-four school year." She wanted to smile. “I came out to my folks.”

CJ almost chuckled. "I was about to start my first ... I ... right before I moved, my father found out about me. Caught me in bed with the cheerleader from down the street...” any other night they’d have laughed at the retelling of this story. "And when I came down to talk to him about it later that weekend, he was watching Dan Rather on the news and they were talking about the virus and I remember this shiver going up my spine, like I knew it would be impacting me forever. I always assumed it was because of my friends I've lost...”

"Ceej..." Sydney tried again.

"Don't hate me for what I'm about to say, okay?"

"Yeah." Sydney felt a knot in her stomach.

"If you want to leave, if you can't handle it, if at any time you need to go, do it. I won't hate you for it. I won't make you leave tonight if you think you can't do it and I won't kick you out when I'm on my death bed ... I went through a period of a few minutes where I wanted to, where I wanted you to go and not see me get sick, but then I realized that I can't survive this without you. But if you can't handle it, Baby, go when you need to."

"CJ..." Sydney wanted to scream at her, but couldn't. "Thank you, but," she went and put her arms around her girlfriend, "we're in this together. We can't get married, but in sickness and in health applies to people like us too. I love you,” she lifted CJ’s hand and touched the simple silver band, “and when we exchanged rings last year before I came to New York, I meant every word I said to you. Every word. I'm in this for the long haul with you. I won't lie, I know it's going to be hard and I thought about leaving, just up and going, but I can't. I'd be back here in an hour. We're partners. This is a part of us now and I'll be right here through everything."

"Promise me you'll keep talking to me, that even if you think it's going to be hard for me to hear, that you'll let me know how you're feeling. Promise me."

"I promise." She pulled CJ closer. "You do the same."

"I promise." CJ leaned back into Sydney's arms. "I love you."

"I love you. I've loved you since that very first glance at the center in Berkeley."

CJ giggled, "You are such a hopeless sap of a romantic."

"So are you." Sydney ran her fingers along CJ's stomach and then up under her shirt, needing to actually feel their skin touch. "It's going to be hard and I'm going to be dominating for a while ... "

"I know. But this can't take over our lives. I've still got a thesis to finish and you have your work at the UN and I'm not going to let this just take over. I can't. It will destroy me faster than any virus could think about."

"Then I promise. It's a hard promise to make, but I'll try."

CJ was tempted to make a Yoda reference, but changed her mind. "That's all I ask."

Sydney kissed her neck and then moved up to her ear, nibbling gently. "Can I take you back to bed?"

"Yeah." CJ turned in her arms and sighed, "Tonight marks the beginning of only safe sex ... you know that, right?"

"CJ, the chance of you passing this along to me is so minimal...”

"All it takes is that minimal chance, Sydney. I won't. I mean that."

"Then safe sex it is." Sydney smiled. "If that's the one thing you're demanding, then I can be right there."

CJ took Sydney's face in her hands and kissed her passionately. "It's not the only thing I'm demanding."

They left the shadows in the living room, but when Sydney looked back over her shoulder at CJ, who followed, she could have sworn she saw the image of Lila reflected in the windowpane.

1990

Sydney stared helplessly at the security line and then hugged CJ again, tightly. “Call me when you get in tonight, and don’t forget that your body is still on New York time right now so adjust your pill taking time back in San Francisco. And don’t forget that you’ve got that doctor’s appointment tomorrow and …”

“Hey,” CJ shouldered her backpack, “Baby, I’m going to be fine and I’m only going to be gone about another year, okay? I’ll finish up my work at school, get this damned thesis done, and I’ll be back here in no time.”

“Just take care of yourself and watch for symptoms. And …” she sighed and shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

CJ kissed her gently, not really caring what anyone passing by thought of them. “We’ve done this before, Syd.”

“Last time …”

“I was still sick last time, we just didn’t know it. Anyway, most of this last year is going to be teaching and finishing my thesis. I’ll take care of myself.”

“Get your blood tests and …” Her arms tightened around CJ. “God, why do you have to go back? I’m going to be living in fear …”

“You’re going to be working, Sweetheart. You need to keep doing your job, okay? We have that rule, and you can’t forget it. Life as normal.”

“Yeah.” Sydney kissed her again. “Call me when you get back. I love you.”

“I love you too.” With a last kiss, CJ turned and headed for the security line. Sydney stood and waited until she couldn’t see the strawberry red hair floating above the crowd any longer, and when she finally made it out to a cab, she cried the whole way home.

1991 ~ Berkeley, CA

“Congratulations, Sweetheart!” Tal Cregg embraced his only daughter tightly, “This is a wonderful day for the Cregg family.”

“Isn’t that what you said when Mike took over the vineyard from Papa Cregg?” CJ giggled and sipped at the wine Mike had developed specifically for this day.

“Well,” Mike laughed, “there are only two important things in this family – a good glass of wine and a good education. In that order.”

CJ shook her head and reached for a piece of the cheese Mike had brought down as well. The hotel suite they’d chosen for the party was now mostly empty, her friends having come down to congratulate her earlier. It was always nerve-racking to have her family in the same room with Sydney. After seven years, her family had come to like Sydney, but she was always on edge and wondering when her stepmother would say something stupid. And she knew that Sydney was also nervous, and that only made her even more on edge. The last time they’d all been together had been the Christmas when she’d told them of her HIV status and the memories of the arguments were still fresh in everyone’s mind.

“When’s the thesis being published, little sis?” Tim poured another glass of wine and settled next to his wife. Their daughter, Hogan, was racing around the room, as tired kids tended to do. CJ was counting the seconds until she fell over right where she was and slept.

“Berkeley’s publishing group has it on the press now, so soon.”

“And you’re …”

“I’m going to be working for Simon, Hawke, and Casey. I’ll be heading up the research department – the firm is moving beyond just basic public relations but into polling samples.”

Sydney hung back at the wall, watching CJ as she talked about what the plans were and where they’d be going. Not even the shadow of death that followed them everywhere could hurt today. Two years of advanced pre-k programs, twelve years of school, and eight years of graduate work had given CJ her dream. Now they’d be together in New York, changing the system and working for the betterment of everyone. Medical advancements were giving people with HIV the chance to live longer and longer and every day doctors talked about being one step closer to a cure. Maybe, just maybe, in this lifetime, Sydney would stop looking over her shoulder and praying for the Dark Angel to go away.

1993 ~ New York City

“You’re CJ Cregg, right?” He looked down at the resume and business card again, “Excuse me, Dr. Cregg.”

“CJ’s fine. And you’re Toby Zeigler, Esquire, right?”

“Toby’s fine.” He grumbled good-naturedly and handed her a pile of polling numbers. “Analyze this, get back to me, and let me know where we can go from here.”

“We’re thirty-six points down.”

“So let’s make sure we only lose by thirty-five. That’s your job.” He grinned. “Teach me how to use these numbers to communicate to the public. You can use that empty office down the hall. Kick the interns out of it.”

“Will do.” CJ smiled again and made her way down the hall.

Toby watched her walk, and then followed her. “I read your book, by the way.”

“You did?” CJ blinked and turned around, clutching the papers to her chest.

Toby chuckled. “Yeah. ‘To say that the inner cities are under represented is as cliché as a Republican citing Lincoln. Yet, inner city populations are the under-educated, under-funded, ghetto class that the wealthy choose by and large to ignore. Inner-city populations are not just black and Hispanic, but poor and white, poor and homosexual, poor and dying. The people who most need representation are the ones who get it the least, and they are the ones who are not taught that it is their right as Americans to be represented.’ An interesting way to start your work – to pose a cliché and then spend the first page defending it.”

“Did I convince you?”

“I hardly needed convincing, but I know that you convinced a lot of people. It was good work.”

“Thanks.” CJ turned and walked into the office, kicked the interns out, and set her papers down. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out how to represent the under represented.”

“Are you free for dinner tonight?” Toby was entranced. “I’d like to continue this conversation.”

“If you’re asking me out, you should know that I’m in a relationship.”

“I’m engaged. I just want to talk more.” Toby grinned and ducked his head. It was just like women to assume that a guy was hitting on her when he asked her for dinner. “I’ll even bring Andrea along and you can bring …”

“Sydney,” CJ supplied, not even looking up from what she was reading. “Sydney Ludlow, chief counsel to the Secretary General of the UN.”

“All right.” Toby grinned and walked out of the office. Yes, he was now enjoying himself.

“You know something?” CJ came into the small office where Toby had holed himself up to watch the election returns. She handed him a beer and then settled down on the arm of his chair.

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to lose by thirty-four points.”

Toby looked up at her for a minute, wanting to be irritated, but then just started to laugh. He couldn’t help it when he saw the sparkle in her eyes or the lilt of her mouth. “I told you to make sure we’d lose by thirty-five.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t exactly achieve the goals you set out for me.” They clinked beers and CJ grinned. “I’m really glad we met, Tobus.”

“Me too, Jeaneane.” He covered her hand with his own and squeezed. “And I like Sydney too. And anytime the two of you feel like …”

“Oh shut up.” She laughed and took another sip of the beer. After a moment of watching the returns, she looked back at him, “We’re moving to Washington.”

“Really? Following me down there?” Toby was leaving as soon as the office was cleaned up to go down to Baltimore and marry his fiancé and help her get elected to the US House of representatives.

“Sydney was offered Chief of Staff to Senator John Hoynes.”

“Wow. And she’s leaving the UN to take it?” Toby didn’t like Hoynes. He didn’t care if the guy was being hailed as the Messiah for the moderate democrats. Toby wasn’t exactly a moderate democrat.

“She’s ready to move on and I’ve been offered political director at EMILY’s list. So, we’ll be within harassment distance of you.”

Toby laughed and squeezed her hand again. “Good. I like having you around.”

“Toby …” CJ moved so that she was sitting across from him. “There’s something I want you to know.”

“You’re not really a lesbian and you’re lusting after me?” He took another swig of beer.

“Funny boy.” She reached over and turned off the TV, thereby demanding his full attention. “Over these few months we’ve become friends and … this is something that barely anyone knows, but I want you to know.”

“CJ,” gone was the light from his eyes. Everything in the room changed as he took her hands. “What is it?”

“I’m HIV positive.”

A wind tunnel formed in his ears, racing back through his brain, eliminating all sound and sucking the air from his body. He knew he hadn’t heard her right. “You’re what?”

1994 ~ Washington DC

She hated entering a dark apartment, especially when she knew CJ was home. More and more, as the years passed and CJ continued to react well to the drugs, Sydney was almost able to forget the shadow that loomed in every aspect of their lives. CJ was healthy and comfortable and she went jogging every day with the recently elected Congresswoman Wyatt and she drank too much with Toby every weekend and she was making a name for herself in national circles.

More and more, Sydney told herself that she didn’t have the time to worry about CJ’s health. Senator Hoynes kept her hopping, and she was starting to believe that he actually might be the godsend the democrats needed. But she still had her doubts about the guy, doubts that were making her consider very seriously the job opportunity she’d been handed today. It was easy to almost forget that CJ had to take her pills because it was just a part of their daily lives. It was easy to stop lying to herself for a few minutes a day – and just try to forget. She tried, anyway. She’d been trying for five years – one of these days it would actually succeed.

“Sweetie?” She called as she walked down the hallway of the small Arlington apartment they’d fallen in love with. The bedroom light was on and the door partially ajar. She poked her head in, and every worry she’d ever told herself she’d forgotten raced right back to the surface. CJ was lying under the covers, the electric blanket on, and still shivering from the effects of a fever. “Oh, God.” She dropped her briefcase, forgot about the news of the job offering, and raced to CJ’s side. “Oh, honey, why didn’t you call me at work. God, we need to get you to a hospital.”

“I’m okay, it’s just a fever …”

“Stop it.” Sydney dialed CJ’s doctor’s number. “Stop it.”

The shadow loomed.

“What caused the fever?”

“It’s actually an infection in her kidneys. She’s always been prone to kidney disease, and the medications that she is on right now are actually … one of the side effects is weakened renal support.”

“Yeah, when her doctor in New York put her on it, he cautioned her … but said it was the best course of action.”

“It was four years ago. I’ve already called and consulted with her initial doctor and we’ve decided that it would be best to completely take her off all her medications for a while. We’re going to treat the kidney infection with IV antibiotics and then just give her body time to rest. After six months, we’ll retest and see where her anti-body level is.”

“Are her t-cells low enough for it to have progressed to AIDS?”

“Not yet. CJ is surprisingly healthy. The symptoms she’s shown over the past nine years have been relatively minor and her t-cell levels, while experiencing periods where they do drop, remain at a good level. As we learn more and more about this disease, we’re discovering that there are actually a surprising number of cases like CJ. In the initial case studies, AIDS was shown to be completely debilitating and once someone was diagnosed, they could expect a measurable decline in life. But in many cases, and CJ is one of these cases, the person who is infected goes through attacks and then periods of remission. While in remission, the virus continues to reproduce, but the sufferer can lead a completely normal life with no symptoms at all.”

“Eventually, though, those periods of remission are going to be fewer and far between, right?”

“Eventually, yes. But with how healthy CJ is, it could be years.”

“How close is she to renal failure?” Sydney winced and realized she’d pulled a nail off below the skin line.

“No where near it, actually. The infection will clear up and she’ll be back to normal. I’ll want to monitor her, though, and I might make the decision to put her on a medication for her kidneys for a while, just to strengthen them. And eventually we’re going to have to put her back on the cocktail. But, right now, let’s flush her system and see how it goes. Her fever is coming down and she’s resting peacefully. Do you want to go see her?”

“Of course.”

“You’re kidding, right?” CJ leaned against the fridge as she watched Sydney put together her famous beef stroganoff. “You had a week when I was in the hospital to tell me this and you’re just now bringing it up?” It was impossible to keep the irritation from her voice, “Sydney, would you stop protecting me?”

“Hey,” she snapped louder than she wanted to, but it couldn’t be helped. “First off, I’ll protect you as much as I want to protect you. You put on this brave face and walk around and you don’t tell me that you’re getting sick again, just to protect me! I can do things like not mention what’s going on at work while you are in the hospital! Jesus, CJ, let’s not get into how mad I have a right to be right now. You knew something was wrong!” She dumped the sour cream onto the noodles and started stirring. “Anyway, moving back to California got bumped off the top of my list when Roger said that you’d be in and out of his office having your blood tested for the next few months. Somehow, moving away from you while you are no longer in remission isn’t exactly what I want to be doing with my time right now.”

“It’s the ACLU, Sydney. The whole California chapter. Not to mention the teaching position that goes along with it at USC!”

“I’m fully aware of the job offer, CJ.” Cool hands touched her heated back and she turned, leaving the noodles to simmer for a minute. Her gray eyes met CJ’s blue ones and she leaned in to kiss her. “And I know the promise that we made to each other, but I can’t be away from you right now. I can’t even think about it. What if I hadn’t been here to come home and find you …”

“Why don’t I look for a job in California?” CJ wrapped her arms around Sydney’s waist as the other woman turned back to the stove. “I love EMILY’s list, but I also wouldn’t mind something that pays a little bit more. Anyway, I miss California. You go ahead, find us a place, and I’ll follow as soon as I can find something. We’ll be apart maybe a few weeks.”

“You. The militant feminist in the family. You. Leaving EMILY’s list? You must love me.” She smiled when she felt CJ’s laughter.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Are you up to setting the table?”

“Yeah.” CJ took a minute though and closed her eyes; still wanting to scream and yell, but it wasn’t Sydney she was upset with. She hated this; the predator in her veins, the killer she lived with. She tried to be strong and pretend that it was just another part of her life, but she hated it. When she opened her eyes, she saw past Sydney, who still stood at the stove, and out into the living room where she saw Lila’s reflection in the mirror, and behind her, the ever present shadow of death.

“Where is it?” CJ curled up on the couch, pushing memos aside.

“Beverly Hills. It’s a bit expensive, but I think it’s worth it. There’s a small garage, big enough for your mustang, and I don’t mind parking the Pontiac out on the street. There’s a pool and a full deck, an office off the living room, a master bedroom and two smaller bedrooms, three bathrooms, including the master bath. And the tub is big enough for tall girls like us.”

“What are they asking for it?” She was already doing the math in her head, wondering how much they could transfer from securities for a down payment. They could afford it, she knew, but it might be tight.

“Four hundred and fifty.”

Maybe they could afford it. “Well, it is Beverly Hills. What does the bank say?”

“With both our credit lines, we can get approved for pretty much whatever we want, it’s just a matter of deciding a down payment. I like it Ceej, I think it will be good for us.”

“Then make an offer, but don’t go above four-twenty.” She popped a potato chip into her mouth. “We’ll make it work, and if we cash in any of the stocks we have, we can make a sizeable down payment.”

“All right. I’ll do it.” Sydney settled on the bed of the tiny apartment she was renting until the house was ready. “How’s the job hunt going?” She made a point to not jump on CJ about her health.

“Trinton-Day has an opening …”

“You’re kidding.”

“They want someone to head up the Hollywood accounts.”

“You’re kidding.” The spring left Sydney’s voice. “Hollywood?”

“It’s not that much different than politics, and I could use a break from the world of the beltway. Anyway, this gives me a chance to use my PR skills, not just my polling skills.”

“You use your PR skills every day. But Hollywood?”

“We watch movies.” CJ chuckled. “Anyway, it’s five hundred and fifty thousand a year plus bonus and benefits. Flat salary. And then, I get a commission for every account a junior associate on my team brings into the firm, and a bonus for every account I bring in.”

“The money is hard to turn down.” Sydney sighed. “And I want you here.”

“Yeah, I want to be out there too. I talked to Isobel Trinton, who heads up the company, and we set up an interview for Thursday. It sounds promising.”

“She’ll see right through your hatred of the accounts. Are you sure you can do something you’re not all that happy doing?”

“I need a change of pace. It won’t last forever.”

“Okay. When’s your flight get in?” Sydney wasn’t completely sure about this, but she wasn’t going to argue either. She wanted CJ here too much to tell her to not pursue the job.

“You’re leaving me.” Toby was whining and doing it well.

“You learned about this a week ago, you’ve had all the time in the world to pout. Stop it and help me load up the car, okay?”

Toby surveyed the ancient mustang and shook his head. “You honestly think that Beast here can make the trip?”

“Beauty has made many a cross country trip and she’s in perfect condition.”

“CJ, I hate to break it to you, but this car is thirty years old.”

“You just noticed that, did you?”

“And it makes you look like even more of a dyke.”

“What?” CJ flashed him a grin, “My black jeans and leather jacket don’t take care of that already?”

“You’re hopeless.” He tossed the first of many suitcases into the back seat of the convertible. “You’ll call every night, let me know you haven’t died?”

“Every night. You’ll let me know when you and Andi get pregnant?”

“It won’t happen in the next week, but of course.” Toby turned and hugged her tightly. “Take care of yourself, CJ. And we’ll come see you soon.”

“As soon as we get the house set up.” CJ hugged him just as tightly. “Take care of yourself, Tobus.”

“You too.” He touched her cheek. “Please.” He didn’t want to think about the multitudes of things that could happen to her as she trekked across the country. “Don’t forget to call.”

“You said that already.” With a final kiss, she climbed into the mustang, threw the car into drive, and was off, racing the shadows to the West Coast.

1997 ~ Los Angeles, CA

“All right, and with that I want to see your summary of McKinley vs. Owen, 1951, State of Idaho, on my desks by 9 AM tomorrow. If you turn it in at 9:05, you will receive a failing grade. Understood? Okay, have a good night.” Sydney waved her class off to their next lecture, waiting until the room had emptied before starting to gather her own notes.

“You know,” came a soft voice, filled with laughter, “if all law professors are like you, I’m glad that I didn’t go to law school.”

Sydney jumped about twelve feet in the air and turned to look at the tall, leggy figure walking towards her. “You didn’t go to law school, Beautiful, because you have a conscience. Anyway, I’ve seen you when you lecture and I’m scared of you.” Sydney eyed her carefully, a mixture of curiosity and leering at how CJ’s body looked poured into that pair of tight jeans and the black mid-riff baring shirt. Something was wrong, or at least up. “What’s this surprise visit about anyway?”

“I was hoping to take you to dinner at the pier and talk to you about something.”

“What?” Sydney finished packing up her briefcase and before she could sling it over her shoulder, CJ took the bag.

“Well,” CJ sighed. “I got fired this morning.”

“What? How? What happened? And why am I just finding out about this now?” She linked her fingers with CJ’s and squeezed reassuringly. CJ had hated the accounts she’d been working on, and this was a weight off both of their shoulders.

“I insulted Roger Becker, among other things.”

Sydney barely stifled a laugh. “Good. The man is insufferable.”

“Yeah. Anyway, it took a while to call because when I got home, Toby was there.”

“Toby? As in Ziegler? What’s he up to? Is he still working for the Bartlet campaign?”

“Yeah …” They walked out into the southern California campus and easily dropped their hands. “Anyway, he offered me a job.”

Sydney came to an abrupt halt, shocked, elated, and suddenly terrified. “On the campaign?” This was the break CJ had been waiting for, this was why she’d suffered through the jobs she’d had in-between the campaigns she’d worked on. But a national campaign schedule? “CJ, really?” She tried to keep the apprehension from her voice.

“As press secretary.”

“You’re kidding …” Sydney launched at CJ and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Baby, that is so perfect …” It was perfect, it was what they’d waited for. Could CJ handle it?

Clinging tightly to her girlfriend of thirteen years, CJ just had to laugh. She could feel the hesitation under Sydney’s elation, and knew the reaction would be like this. So she simply hugged her tightly and then pulled back, “It’s a serious pay cut … and a lot of it will be going for my expenses on the campaign trail …” They would talk about her health later tonight.

“It’s not like we need the money, sweetheart. And whatever the pay is –“ She focused on the present, on the job. Staring into the shadows of the future would only make her resent this job offer and then resent CJ.

“Six-hundred a week.”

“It’s better than nothing.” Sydney grinned, an actual, supportive grin, and started walking toward where her car was parked. “I’ll keep up the house until you guys win, which you will now that you’re on board, and then we can go house hunting in the district. We can actually live in the district this time and not Arlington and I can take a job with the national office and maybe even teach at American.”

“Aren’t you getting a bit ahead of yourself?” CJ was smiling though. She could tell that not all of this was posturing – and that Sydney was actually excited with the prospect of moving back to DC.

“No. I have faith in you.” Sydney grinned. “Where’s Toby?”

“Still at the house. Probably packing for me … I told him that I wanted to talk to you first …”

“Toby knew I’d say yes.” She laughed and pulled out her car keys. “I’ll meet you at the pier and I’ll buy you dinner and then take you home and I might even let Toby watch us tonight – as a present to him for saving you from the hell of Trinton Day.” She knew that Toby knew she’d say yes because Toby would take care of CJ. If there was anyone else out there she trusted, it was Toby.

“I was already fired when he offered me the job.”

“He called you four days ago, he already had you in mind.”

“You are impossible.”

“No, not really.” Sydney smiled and kissed CJ’s cheek. “I’ll meet you there. I love you, Baby.”

“I love you, too.”

Sydney watched CJ walk across the lot to visitor parking and let the smile fade. She wanted to be fine with CJ taking on a campaign schedule, but all she saw was the shadow that followed her. Moving to LA had been the best thing in the world for CJ. The sunshine and the air by the beach and the constant warmth kept her from being sick. Her doctor was a godsend and had found a medication regimen that wasn’t eating away at her kidneys as much as the other pills did. She’d hated the work at Trinton-Day but the parties had been fun and the work hadn’t kept her up nights or in the office at all hours. For the past year and a half, CJ had been healthy. And CJ was right; this disease couldn’t control everything. Never once had CJ allowed her t-cell count to keep her from following her dreams, and it would be wrong to pressure her to start now. So she just watched the mustang roar away, a black shadow following it, and offered up a prayer. “Lila,” she whispered, “watch over her like you have been. Stay close to her. Please, don’t let this be what kills her. Don’t let it take her. Not yet.”