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Rating: General.
Pairing: J/D.
Disclaimers: The characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, not me. Though I'm 
asking Santa to bring me Josh for Christmas this year, and I'm being a 
*very* good girl. The story's mine though, please ask before archiving. 
I'll probably say yes.

This story was inspired by Marie-Claude Danis's wonderful story "Lucky 
Girl", and was written with Marie-Claude's permission. Thanks to her, 
both for the original fic, and for her generosity in letting me play 
with her story. You'll need to read "Lucky Girl" to understand this 
one. 
Thanks to RL for editing. Posted 24th May 2001.

Precious Jewel.
by Michelle Hiley.
cat@hiley.demon.co.uk

Wednesday, he comes into the store as usual, and I notice the 
difference 
at once. He seems more...energised, somehow. I'm pleased to see him - 
it's been a dull day, few customers. I watched TV on my break, but it 
was all politics - some big victory for the Bartlet administration. 
Now, 
watching him come towards me, on his usual path, it occurs to me his 
good mood might be because of that victory. After all, I'd guessed he 
was a Democrat.

"Good evening, sir," I say, as I say every week, and he smiles.

"Hey."

"Looking for anything in particular tonight?"

"I'm just looking." He begins the ritual. I nod, and let him look at 
the 
rings. He's really just looking tonight. Not asking to handle any, just 
letting his eyes run over them, to see if any are missing. None are, 
not 
this week. It's been slow. I've sold a few dress rings, but none of the 
fancy engagement ones.

He's running a finger along the cabinet, looking down thoughtfully at 
the rings beneath the smooth glass. And maybe it's the slight 
difference 
in his attitude tonight, and maybe it's because I'm just so curious 
about him, but I find myself finally saying it.

"Why don't you just ask her?"

He looks taken-aback, and I apologise, angry at myself. "I'm sorry, 
sir. 
Please, forget I mentioned it. Would you like me to show you any of the 
rings?"

There's a head shake to that, and he looks confused, and rather scared. 
We've never deviated from the pattern before. I curse quietly as he 
backs away, hoping I haven't frightened him away for good.

"No, thank you anyway...I was just looking."

"Anytime," I tell him, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me. 
He starts to walk away, back past the watches, and the gold chains. But 
then, he stops, and just stands there for a minute, before turning to 
look back at me. He looks thoughtful, like he's making a decision. A 
different decision, this time.

"You think I should?" he asks.

I just nod.

He hesitates, then gives me a wonderful smile, coming back over to the 
rings. Whoever this woman is, she's lucky to get a guy with a smile 
like 
that. I feel a slight twinge of regret that I won't get to see him 
every 
Wednesday from now on, but it's worth it, if he asks her. I'm a 
helpless 
romantic, I admit it. And this guy is so clearly in love. Lucky girl.

I unlock the cabinet, getting the rings out. He picks them all up, more 
determined this time, looking at each in turn, like they're old friends 
he's going to miss. Then he steps back, and looks at them all together. 
Then, finally, he picks up the two carat one, on the gold, the one with 
the two smaller diamonds flanking it. It's a beautiful ring, elegant, 
delicate. He's picked it up several times before, but this time he 
turns 
it over in his fingers, thoughtfully.

"This one."

He hasn't even asked about the price. I tell him anyway, and he just 
nods, looking at it and smiling. I ring up the sale, and get a box for 
it, then take it from him, to box it. He lets go, a little reluctantly, 
and eagerly takes the box from me, putting it into his coat pocket. 
Close to his heart.

"Thank you," he says, smiling, and I get the message. Thank you, for 
all 
those Wednesdays. For that final push.

"You're welcome," I tell him, and smile back. "You made a good choice."

He steps back into the cool, Washington evening, and I sniffle slightly 
in happiness. Damn, I feel good. I barely concentrate on anything for 
the rest of my shift, before closing up and heading home myself. I'm 
going to read the paper religiously for the next year, read every 
marriage announcement. I hope there's a picture, so I know it's him. 
It's odd - I'm really going to miss him. Wednesdays won't be the same, 
now. He feels more like a friend than a customer. I wish we *were* 
friends, so I could go to the wedding. Apart from anything else, I'd 
like to see what the bride looks like. 

I'm back at my counter, at the same time on Thursday, when a shadow 
falls across the ring display. I look up, startled, and my mouth falls 
open in shock. He's there, right in front of me. And clutched between 
his fingers - the ring. 

Oh *no*. She didn't. She did. She turned him down, and now he's 
returning the ring. My heart aches for him. What's wrong with her? 
Doesn't she know a good thing when she sees it?

Then my heart skips a beat, as a woman walks up to the counter, beside 
him. Tall, blonde, alabaster skin, very beautiful. That's Her, I can 
tell instantly, even before he turns and smiles at her. I look at them, 
completely confused.

"Good evening," I stammer. My eyes drift to the ring, and he smiles at 
me.

"The sign says you do ring sizing," he says softly. "I was never very 
good at guessing sizes. It's slightly too big."

I look at him in relief. Then his lady is stretching out her hand, and 
I'm measuring her finger, assuring them we can get the adjustment done 
quickly. There's an engagement party on Saturday night? Yes, yes I'll 
see to it the ring is ready Saturday afternoon. They can collect it 
then. 

Oh! Well, yes....thank you. I would love to come.

The end.