Where Your Mind Takes You

 

Ch. 1

 

Curtain.
The applause thundered around her, and CJ jerked in her seat, looking
around. Her disbelieving gaze met Leo’s concerned one.
“Are you OK?”
“I’m…” She looked around again. She was in the theater, not sitting on a bench in the cold
New York night. But her cheeks were still wet with tears.
Simon?
“You’ve been crying…you seemed so far away.” They had to stand for the
ovation, and then Leo took her hand and guided her to a quite place in the lobby.
“These past few weeks couldn’t have been easy for you. It must be a relief to hear it’s all over.”
Stunned, she looked around again. “I think I’ve been more affected than I realized. Was I in my seat the whole time?”
He smiled slightly. “In body, but not in mind. I always lose myself in
thought when I watch long plays. It’s amazing where your mind takes you.”
“Thank you.” She saw Ron Butterfield at the far corner of the lobby. “Excuse me for a minute, Leo.”

“Where your mind takes you…” She had a waking nightmare. Letting her mind wander during the play, she apparently called forth all of her anxieties and confusion from these past few weeks and tangled them into this horror scene at the convenience store. She saw Simon’s lifeless body on the ground…A senseless, unpredictable death that could have been her fate. Her fear of dying at the hands of her stalker mingled with her fear of losing this love she had just found. Was this really just a...what? She supposed if she were sleeping she would call this episode a nightmare. But she was awake, her body in the theater, her mind creating this… “daymare”?

CJ walked over to Ron. He greeted her with a nod. He looked as he always did, the man in charge. Not the man who just lost an agent in a robbery.
“Miss Cregg.”
A deep breath. She needed to take a deep breath before the question could be vocalized. “Ron, have you heard from Simon at all?”
“Sure, he checked in from the field office, grumbling about wasting a good tux in a cubicle with a pile of paperwork. Then he came back here and offered himself as an extra hand. I told him to take the evening off but he was restless. He’s one of my best guys, so I decided not to pass up his offer of help.”
Laughter rose in her, like the silly girl on Prom Night Simon had accused her of being. What *was* he talking about, anyhow? She should ask him. She could ask him now.
“Thank you, Ron.”
“Sure thing. And when you see him, tell him he doesn’t have to check in
before taking you wherever it is he has in mind. I just expect him back at work tomorrow.”
CJ stared at Ron’s tight smile. She thought of a dozen possible responses, but none crossed her lips. Ron’s grin broadened and softened. “Well, I never thought I could render the Press Secretary speechless.”

She walked back to Leo. “You got some color back in your cheeks again,
kiddo. Feeling better?”
“Oh Yes!” Her eyes sparkled and Leo smiled in return. “I’m fine now!”
Leo jerked his head towards the exit. “Why don’t you go find Agent Donovan? I’ll make your excuses to the Boss.”
“I thought I was being discreet!”
“Well. I’m a nosy bastard. And I like you. I make it my business to know. So does Ron over there.”
CJ refused to consider who else might have been talking about her and Simon. She leaned forward and kissed Leo on the cheek. Than she ran outside.

“You would come out with no proper clothing, wouldn’t you?”
She lifted her face to the teasing smile, the eyes that belayed the words with a tender gaze. He wrapped his tux jacket over her bare shoulders. She let herself snuggle against his chest, listening to the steady beat of a heart she thought she’d never hear. Laughter bubbled up again, and she raised her head to meet his lips.
“OK, Agent Sunshine. Sweep me off my feet!”

 

 

 

Ch. 2

 

If CJ were thinking clearly she would have realized that the site of the
Press Secretary running out of the theater was bound to attract the press’s attention. As it were, knowing that Simon was alive and waiting for her obliterated everything else in her mind, until the flesh bulbs exploded through her closed eyelids.
She groaned and broke off their kiss. “I can’t believe...”
“Hey CJ,” yelled Mark Landry, from the Hartford Courant, “was the Secret Service protecting or serving just now?”
Simon swallowed the first ten words that came to his mind, but CJ, the
consummate professional, put on her best Press Secretary smile.
“The Service just informed me that my stalker was caught,” she said, and was rewarded with cheers and clapping. She didn’t kid herself. She knew the distraction was momentary and they’d get back to The Kiss fairly rapidly.
She turned to Simon. “Can you get us out of here?”
Simon nodded and began stirring her towards the security line. Passing by Mandy Lowry from the New York Times, the journalist called out, “Who is he, CJ?”
Still reeling from her very lucid waking nightmare, her emotions alternating between euphoria and terror, CJ blurted out, “you all know Special Agent Donovan.”
Snickers, and Mark Landry again, “just how special is he, CJ?”
CJ considered revoking Landry’s press credentials, before the rational part of her brain took over. Luckily, Mandy Lowry clarified, “The stalker, CJ. Can you tell us anything about him?”
CJ shook her head, saying, “I don’t have all the information myself yet. I’ll brief everyone tomorrow.”

Simon‘s body language made it clear they were through, and he got CJ away from the shouted questions. They ran smack into Agent Barbara Layton, who grinned up at them. “Couldn’t wait, huh, Donovan?”
“You have a point, Layton?”
“Actually, I do,” she said. “Eagle asked for half-an-hour alone with the archbishop, so that gives you two some time. There’s a nice place not to far from here. Cozy, intimate, good coffee, decent drinks, nice jazz -- perfect for a first date. Also, my sister owns it.”
“Your what?” asked Simon, his mind preoccupied by CJ’s demeanor. She looked pale and badly shaken. Something was up.
“Sister, Donovan, you know – same parents, two girls?”
“Oh, yeah, I have one of those. I didn’t know your sister owns a jazz
place.”
“She’s the black sheep. The rest of us are all military and law enforcement and she went for romance. Go figure.”
Simon shook his head in mock disgust. “That’s awful!” CJ punched his arm.

Agent Layton gave them directions to Jen’s Place, and they walked off. Simon studied CJ closely.
“You know, you looked pretty happy to see me when you came flying out that door. Now you looked as if you’ve lost your best friend. What did I miss, and when did I miss it?”
CJ shook her head. “You’re going to think it’s ridiculous.”
They reached Jen’s Place and Simon turned CJ towards him. Gently cupping her face in his hands, he said softly, “CJ, whatever it is that’s spoiling this perfect night for you can’t possibly be ridiculous. Please don’t shut me out when you’ve finally let me in.”
CJ looked up at him and nodded. She turned towards the door and he followed her inside.

They found a corner table and sat down, appreciating the music (smooth
jazz), low lights, and general coziness of the place. They ordered some
drinks, and Simon leaned back, looking at CJ expectantly. “You’re not trying to break up with me already, are you?”
CJ smiled and shook her head. “No, you’re stuck with me, Special Agent
Sunshine. I’m pretty tenacious.”
Simon cocked his head, waiting for more, and CJ’s smile disappeared. She took a deep breath and poured it all out. The waking nightmare her mind conjured up during the play – the convenience store, the guy on the floor, the guy Simon never saw shooting him. Hearing the news from Ron. “It was so real, Simon. I saw you die. I heard Ron breaking the news to me, and I felt myself walking through the streets, crying. I snapped back to reality when the applause started at the end of the play. But I can’t shake that part of me that’s grieving and, quite frankly, it freaks me out.”

“Wow.” Simon was quiet for a while, thinking hard. It disturbed him to think that on some subconscious level CJ could conceive of him as being so arrogant and careless. The convenience store scenario was completely out of character for him, or so he hoped, regardless of how distracted he was by her and their impending date. He looked up and said softly, “I made a mistake earlier tonight, when my phone rang. I turned my back to you and walked away, and at that time I was still your agent. It was a stupid thing to do. I was pretty sure what the call was about, though. Ron told me he’ll have news for me shortly, so I was letting down my guard. I don’t know if that obvious mistake played into your convenience store scenario, because, quite honestly, I don’t believe there is any way I could be *that* careless and…well…dumb. Even the thought of *you* can’t get me to act carelessly. I value my life, and I’d like it as an old man, not a dead agent.”
He sighed and thought carefully about what he was going to say next. This was a road he’d been down before, and he hoped this time would be different.
“You do realize that, implausible scenarios such as this one aside, there is always the risk I won’t come home from work one day? I am who I am and this job is one that I love. But there is a very real risk in my job. Between my days in the Chicago PD and here at the Service, I’ve had a couple of relationships I would have liked to pursue, but they couldn’t take the uncertainty. People enter serious relationships with the intent of growing old together. That’s my goal, but I can’t guarantee it will happen.”
CJ looked at him, speechless, for a long moment. Then she said, “Did I ever accuse you of being *quiet*? You just gave me a whole speech!”
“Please don’t change the subject, CJ. This is important to me.”
She nodded quietly, and said: “I don’t want to be away from you. I think I’m realistic about the risks involved with your job. I’d worry about you and I’ll cope. I promise not to let the worrying get in the way of our relationship.”
“Good,” he said happily, “I guess we won’t have to worry about this aspect of my job complicating things.”
“Well, considering the way we started this relationship, how can things
possibly get more complicated? “
“I could be assigned to Governor Ritchie’s security detail.”

 

 

Ch. 3

 

Three weeks after New York CJ Cregg snuck out of work early and headed to the Treasury Building. Simon said he was going to be in the shooting range after work, and she wanted to surprise him there, hoping to drag him out for a romantic dinner. When she reached the range she was surprised to see him with Anthony, giving the kid shooting lessons. She stood and watched for a while, enjoying the sight. From the few times she saw them together, she had come to know how important Anthony was to Simon, and was touched by the way Anthony looked up to his Big Brother, friend and mentor. It was obvious Simon was a father figure to Anthony, and that he enjoyed his role immensely.

CJ stepped into Simon’s line of sight and his face broke into a happy smile.
“Hey stranger, what are you doing out so early?”
“Thought I’d play hooky and tempt you with dinner, but I didn’t realize you guys had plans,” CJ smiled, nodding to Anthony, who nodded back shyly.
Simon chuckled. “Kid has to go home and do homework. He knows that. The deal was till 6, which it is in five minutes.” He turned to Anthony, grinning, “Let’s finish up, mischief-maker. I got plans for tonight.”
“Well, at least one of us is going to have some fun!”
Simon tried to look menacing, failed spectacularly, and settled for cuffing the young man. “Let’s go before you really get me – or yourself – into trouble.”

After they dropped Anthony at home, CJ looked at Simon as he started driving towards her place.
“You’re teaching him how to shoot?”
“I’m teaching him all about firearms, not just how to shoot. He either
learns it from me or from the guys in his neighborhood. Which do you think is healthier for him?”
CJ said softly, “You’re really good at this Big Brother thing, aren’t you?”
“I like it. I hate to see good kids waste their lives. I saw too much of it in Chicago and always wished I could do something about it. With Anthony, I can. He’s a great kid.”
CJ shook her head. “I keep finding new sides of you.” She smiled, “You have as many layers as an onion. Except peeling yours is more fun – you don’t make me cry.”
Simon laughed so hard he almost drove off the road. Correcting swiftly, he continued to chuckle for a few more seconds before becoming contemplative.
CJ looked at him curiously. “For someone who almost literally died laughing just now you sure sobered up fast…”
“Oh…”he sighed, “I just hope you’ll never reach a day where there are no more layers to peel, and you find yourself stuck with no surprises in store and a ‘me’ that’s all too predictable and familiar.”
“I think you’re taking my metaphor a bit too literally, my friend. I doubt either one of us can ever be as uncomplicated as a peeled onion.”
He smiled at her, and she ran her fingers through his hair, an affectionate gesture that they both enjoyed immensely.
“Where are we going?” She asked.
“Your place. I snuck in some groceries on my lunch hour. I was going to have dinner ready for you when you came home.”
She was touched, and happy. Nothing, she thought, was going to ruin this evening.


“You what???” CJ looked at Simon in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re
joking!”
Simon continued making the dinner salad, a patient, bemused smile on his face. “I didn’t exactly have a choice, CJ. One of the agents that would have been assigned to Governor Ritchie was involved in a serious car accident. She’ll be OK, but in no shape to be on the detail starting July. Since Bronski was caught, I was a…” He chuckled, “’Free Agent’, as it were,” CJ snorted, “and I was nabbed for Governor Ritchie’s detail.”

CJ briefly considered telling Simon how much she hated when he referred to her stalker by name. Then she decided to postpone that particular discussion for some other time. There were more pressing matters.
“Do you have any idea what the gang at work will do to me, once they find out? Not to mention the press! C’mon, Simon, there must be some Ritchie supporters in the Secret Service!”
Simon put the knife down and looked up.
“Agents don’t take sides, CJ. If you think about it, the possible
ramifications of surrounding a political candidate with armed supporters are rather chilling, wouldn’t you agree?”
CJ considered that for a moment, and had to admit, grudgingly, that Simon had a point. Still…”I thought field office agents protected candidates!”
“They do, most of the time, as a rule. Look, CJ, they were in a bind and I had no reason to refuse the assignment. No acceptable reason,” he added quickly, seeing the look on her face.

Simon went on, voice dripping with sarcasm,” You can always tell the press, if it’s any of their business, that ours is a relationship that exemplifies the beauty of democracy in this country. You are the incumbent’s Press Secretary and I protect his opponent, and together we ensure ‘an informative and safe presidential race.’”
CJ thought she actually heard her jaw hit the floor. Recovering quickly, she managed to say, “It’s a good thing you like your job. That way Toby and Sam don’t have to worry about theirs.”
Simon laughed. “Another onion layer. And Anthony said I was slow-witted!”


CJ felt apprehensive going to wok the next day. She knew she should tell Leo about this turn of events, and was not looking forward to this conversation.
“Leo, do you have a moment?”
“Sure, Come in.”
CJ started hesitantly. “You know Simon Donovan and I are…”
“Together. I sent you to him, after the play, remember? And I’m very happy for you.”
“Yes, well, we have a problem. Simon’s been assigned to Ritchie’s detail.”
Leo chuckled. “I hope you didn’t throw things at him. It wasn’t his fault, you know.”
CJ smiled weekly. “He was making salad. He had a knife. I didn’t dare throw things. Seriously Leo, the press, for one, is going to have a field day…”
“And we’ll deal with it if it comes."
CJ took a deep breath. “Leo, remember what Kevin Kahn did to Sam, his
friend? I’m worried about leaks out of the Ritchie campaign being blamed on my relationship with Simon. I wouldn’t put it past them to try and frame…”
“They’d have to be even stupider than we give them credit for to try
something like that. For God’s sake, CJ, he’s Secret Service. They wouldn’t dare!”
“And if they do?”
“Then we’ll have a lot of fun with our response. Look, the situation might be complicated, but not nearly as complicated as your lives our going to be with the campaigns running in different places at the same time. Better take some time off now so you’ll remember what he looks like between July and November, because I don’t think you’ll see each other much then.”
“How can I take time off now when our campaign is going into high gear and we’re still trying to…you know…run a country? Not to mention the situation with Qumar…”
“You know CJ, most of the time I agree with people that our personal lives must take a back seat to the work we do here. Hell, I lost Jenny this way. But any guy that took your bitching when he was guarding you and stuck around long enough to have you fall madly in love with him deserves some help. Take some time off. I’ll pull some strings and get him the same. I like the glow on your face these past few weeks. It looks good on TV. And I admire the guy for breaking through your defenses. Go have a good time before the bad ones start rolling.”
CJ coked her head and looked at Leo, a mixture of emotions on her face. “I’m not entirely sure that everything you said was a compliment, but I’ll take the good with the bad and thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Just remember it was all meant in the most loving way. And remember also that just because we stand behind you in public doesn’t mean we won’t torment the hell out of you in private.”
“In the most loving way, I’m sure.”
“Absolutely.”
CJ left the office feeling almost light-headed.

 

 

 

 

 

Ch. 4

 

July felt unbearably long to CJ and Simon. He flew down to Florida to head Governor Ritchie’s detail after five glorious days with CJ. It wasn’t until the last day of their vacation that he dared to tell her he’d been tapped to head Ritchie’s security, a considerable promotion for him. This time, she did throw things at him, mostly articles of clothing that he busily removed from her body. Lovemaking was still fun, though, as it always have been for them.

Whenever they found themselves within reasonable geographical distance, CJ and Simon did their best to steal some hours alone halfway between their locations. It wasn’t much, though, and the prospect of 120 days mostly apart was truly depressing. Simon, being true to form, refused to discuss any aspects of his work on Ritchie’s campaign, and CJ had to agree it was the best way to handle their awkward situation. But he was often moody and depressed, and she worried if their relationship could survive the pressures of their respective positions on opposing campaigns.

In early August Governor Ritchie was slated to give a speech in Miami,
weighing in on gun control. The senior staff, knowing a response would be required, decided to watch in the communications bullpen. Leo and the President were in a meeting, so Toby, Sam, and Josh were taking notes while CJ was watching the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Simon, half listening to Ritchie’s introductory remarks. The commotion that started at the back of the auditorium at first went unnoticed by the four watching, and then all hell broke lose.

CJ caught sight of Simon, gun drawn, racing in front of the podium and
taking aim. The gun blast that sent him crashing backward into the podium came a heartbeat before someone in the bullpen screamed his name, and it took CJ several minutes before she realized the scream came from her. By then, she was in her office, with Josh’s arms holding her tightly, and she was hysterically asking for someone, anyone, to find out what happened, and if Simon were alive. Sam and Toby, of course, were already screaming into phones, and in what seemed like an instant, Ron Butterfield was at CJ’s side, as were the President and Leo.
“This isn’t happening,” she cried. “Oh, God, please tell me this isn’t
happening. This is just another nightmare I’m having, like in New York!”
“CJ,” The President’s strong, calm voice cut through her hysteria, “we’re not really sure what’s happening yet. Ron will find out any minute. Hard as it is, we have to hang in here for a while longer…” He looked at Ron, who was listening to his earpiece, face grave. Butterfield turned to CJ and said softly, “We have three agents down, condition unknown. Simon is one of them. May I use your phone?”
CJ’s face was gray, and when she couldn’t respond, the President jerked his head in the direction of CJ’s desk. Ron walked over to dial.

There was roaring in CJ’s ears, the words kept repeating in her head:
“…agents down, condition unknown. Simon is one of them.” And Simon’s voice, that night in New York, “…there is always the risk I won’t come home from work one day.”
Please, she thought desperately, oh please, Simon, you’ve got to come home, I love you. And for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid to feel this way…
Ron was off the phone now. How long has it been? CJ looked at him
apprehensively. His face did not bode well.
“He’s being taken to Ryder Trauma Center. He was hit in the chest,
unconscious, but is breathing on his own so far…”
CJ stopped listening. Through the following quick conference between the President, Ron, and Leo, she kept replaying a scene in her mind, one from last month, when the Ritchie campaign stopped in Norfolk, VA...

Remarkably, she was in D.C. at the time, and, even more remarkably, Simon managed to get time off. They met in Colonial Williamsburg, because it was a good compromise, and because the place seemed more romantic to them than any other spot along the way. They walked around, ducked into the old fashioned stores, and had lunch outside in a sun-drenched courtyard. Afterwards, they sat on a bench and people-watched for a while in comfortable silence.

“Are you ever afraid you’ll die on the job?”
Simon looked at her in surprise, the question having come completely from left field. Then he shook his head. “If I were I wouldn’t be an effective agent. I do know that after Rosslyn, when I came off the adrenalin rush, I was relieved to find myself still standing. But I don’t walk around worrying about what the day might bring.”
She bit her lip. “Do you figure when it’s your time, it’s your time?”
He pondered that. “It’s more of a conviction that what I’m doing is right, and worth the price, though I hope I never have to pay it.”
CJ laid her head on his shoulder and tightened her arms around his waist.
“What was your first thought after Rosslyn, when…you know…you guys were
done?”
He leaned his head back and sighed. “We weren’t done for a while. There was a hell of a mop up operation after the shooting was done, and we had to gather evidence…and all the time I worried about my parents, actually.”
She looked up, surprised. “Your parents?”
Simon nodded. “Well, they’re in their late seventies, and they have this nightly ritual of watching the news on several stations, for the better part of the evening. Keeps them talking about current events, you know. They say it keeps their minds sharp,” he smiled gently, and CJ could sense his love for his parents. Then his smile vanished and he continued, “So I knew there was no way they missed the shooting. They also knew I was on Eagle’s protection detail. I knew they’d put two and two together, and they’re not young, as I said…”
CJ touched his face gently. “What happened?”
“Oh,” Simon sighed, “I finally got to call home. My mom answered, I said ‘Ma, it’s me, I’m okay.’ And she started to cry.”
“And your dad?”
“When she finally let him know hers were happy tears, he snatched up the phone and informed me in his best tough-guy manner that he was proud of me. I didn’t find out until later, when I talked to my sister, that he’d been having chest pains the whole evening, but refused to go anywhere until he found out if I were alright. It was the only time in my life I wondered if my job was worth it. Between my dad and shooting a 15 year-old…”
“And what convinced you again?”
“My dad died a few months later. In his possessions I found a letter he
wrote me the day after Rosslyn, when he already knew I was all right. Not sure why he never sent it. Among other things, he talked about his fears that evening, and his conviction in the rightness of what I was doing…a lot of thought went into this letter. It was as if he was trying to untangle his own mind, trying to resolve the conflict between worrying about me and knowing I’m where I should be, and happy with it…”

“CJ?”
She snapped back to reality. Leo was looking at her. Josh was rubbing her back, while Toby glared at him and held CJ’s hand. Leo spoke again.
“Toby will take you back to your place so you can pack. Then he’ll drive you to the airport. Your flight leaves in two hours, and an agent will meet you in Miami and take you to the hospital.”
“I can fly with…”
“No, Toby, that’s OK. I appreciate everything, but I need to be alone on the plane.” CJ wiped her eyes. She had to get herself together, for Simon’s sake. She looked around at her friends, her throat tightening. “You are the most amazing group of people…” She faltered, lifted her chin. “Thank you.”

In the car, on the way to the airport, CJ stopped Toby from flipping past a news station that talked about the shooting. Governor Ritchie was asked for his response. “Crime. Boy I don’t know.” He offered. Toby let out a series of expletives that would have stunned CJ had she been listening. Oddly, she felt sorry for Ritchie’s press secretary, who had to butt in and clarify that Governor Ritchie was of course appalled…extremely grateful to his Secret Service agents…wishes a speedy recovery…condolences…”What?” CJ’s head snapped in Toby’s direction. “Why?”
“It wasn’t Simon,” said Toby.
“How do you know?” she was desperate.
“Leo called my cell when you were packing. We thought it best you didn’t know, but one of the agents died at the scene. Not Simon.”
Toby expected CJ to come back with a biting remark about the stupidity of trying to coddle her. When none was forthcoming, his concern for her
increased ten folds. She went back to her nearly catatonic state, staring straight ahead in stunned silence, not noticing the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks.
His cell phone rang.
He listened to the voice on the other side, inserting a “Yes, Sir” every once in a while and ending with, “Thank you, Sir. CJ will appreciate that.”
“CJ?” He asked tentatively.
She turned her head slowly, looking at him with apprehension.
“The President has a message for you. He said ‘Tell CJ that in the future, if she ever wonders, ‘Crime. Boy I don’t know’ is when I decided to kick Ritchie’s butt.’”
CJ almost smiled.

 

 

Ch. 5

 

She opened her eyes and lay motionless, as she did so many mornings before, drinking in the sight of him. Though blind as a bat without contacts or glasses, he was lying close enough to her that she could see his peaceful sleeping face. The color was back in those cheeks that were pale even a month ago. His breathing was quiet and regular, no machine to do it for him, no painful gasps when the tube was out. He was Simon; he was back with her, and he was almost completely recovered. The only reminders of the injuries he suffered protecting Governor Ritchie was the slight tenderness that still remained on his left side, and of course the scar that ran down his chest. The scar was a constant reminder of the bullet that nicked his heart and collapsed his lung. Two months after returning from Miami, following a four-week hospital stay (the wound get infected, than his lung collapsed again), Simon was pretty much back to what most people would call normal. Of course, as a Secret Service agent, he still had some ways to go before he could return to active duty…

 

Being Simon, he was determined to make a complete recovery in half the time he was given by the Service.

“WHY???” spat CJ, when he first started pushing himself.

“I want my life back,” he answered evenly.

“You nearly died. You think maybe you could…I don’t know…savor the time we have now before going back to trying to make me a widow?”

Simon raised an eyebrow while CJ stopped and gasped. Where had that come from? She was terrified of the idea of marriage, even to Simon. Knowing CJ as well as he did, Simon never broached this subject, though he knew without a doubt she was the one for him. He knew just as surely that CJ would bolt if he spoke the M-word. He was biding his time and waiting for her to come to trust him enough to discuss marriage. Now she stood in front of him looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He started to say something, but she was quicker, and angrier than before.

“Go to hell!” she fled the room, afraid he might pursue the subject, even more afraid that he might not. She slammed the bedroom door behind her, and he could hear her cry. In the bedroom, CJ wanted to scream out her frustration. She nearly lost him to a bullet. Was she going to lose him to her fear of commitment? She couldn’t handle the added stress.

 

In those first few weeks at home, they fought and cried, and whispered broken “I’m sorrys.” As the weeks went by, and Simon’s health and strength returned, CJ’s terror of losing him subsided enough to allow reason to return. His own anger, guilt, and frustration eased as well, thanks in no small part to the psych guy the Service assigned to him as a condition of his return to active duty. Simon had to admit the guy knew what he was talking about, and even gave him some good coping techniques to pass on to CJ. Ron Butterfield’s wife, Laura, called CJ upon their return from Miami and offered herself as a one-woman support group for “Significant Others of Secret Service agents.” Simon couldn’t even begin to thank Ron for this. The senior agent just waved him off. “Just take care of each other, will you?” he said gruffly. Simon swore they would.

 

Today, CJ thought with a grin, we’ll…then she remembered what today was. Her loud groan woke up her sleeping companion, and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Well, now that you did, care to tell me what this is all about?” he asked good naturedly.

“It’s Election Day.”

His expression neutral, he kept looking at her.

“I could be out of a job tonight.”

“That’s OK, I can support us,” he grinned, easily blocking the playful punch he knew was coming.

CJ sighed, fighting down actual nausea. She’s been having a lot of those lately. These were just nerves before an election day that would be too close for comfort, according to the polls. Even Joey Lucas was nervous. She turned her head back to Simon.

“I’m actually scared,” she whispered softly.

His grin disappeared and he pulled her close. She settled near him, resting her hand lightly over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“You guys ran a great campaign, CJ. I know this doesn’t help if you lose. I know this fear isn’t about survival. You guys are probably the closest group of people I’ve ever known who didn’t start out as family. I don’t think you’ll lose your friends, but I know we’ll all lose something incredibly special if Jed Bartlet doesn’t win today.”

He paused, and continued: “And I know having to leave the campaign for a while after I got shot makes this so much worse for you…”

“I love my job,” she whispered. “I bitch about it and tell everyone I quit a thousand times a month. But I really feel so right in it. And I want the chance to do more in this job. I want four more years, Simon.”

“And you like being big sister to The Boys,” he smiled.

She chuckled. “Yes, it feeds my ego quite nicely, bossing them around, don’t you think?”

Simon laughed. Then he pulled her closer, kissing her hair lightly. “You’re good at what you do, CJ,” he whispered. “You are all good at what you do. And regardless of what happens today, you’ve all made a difference already, in many people’s lives. But I know how you feel – there is so much more you can do, and I don’t want this administration to lose.” He shuddered. “I’ve seen Ritchie and his people up close…”

 

They showered together. It wasn’t always about sex. Sometimes, especially after the shooting, CJ just needed to be close to Simon. After the shooting, she wanted to watch his body heal and grow stronger. Somehow, a shower together was reassuring at those times, and Simon was happy to oblige. He enjoyed the closeness. They chatted mindlessly as they got dressed, Simon doing his best to distract CJ from her mounting anxiety. Then they set off to vote, taking Simon’s car. Not that CJ gave in without a fight – she wanted to take her convertible. Simon, however, said that feeling the wind in his hair and anywhere else he wanted was fine for May, but he wasn’t crazy about it in November. CJ laughed, calling him a liar, knowing he couldn’t care less about the wind, but just wanted his life back, including the privilege of driving his girlfriend around in his own car.

CJ settled back with a happy smile. Simon glanced at her and his grin softened into the smile she loved so much, the one that was reserved only for her, and told her how loved she was. It was a very long campaign, filled with pain and anxiety, and they were both happy it was over.

 

After voting they went to her office, where she briefed the press, and got on the phone with Leo in New Hampshire (“he’s in an awful mood, CJ. Thank your lucky stars you’re not here today.”) By one o’clock she set off to a last minute campaign appearance at the Hilton.  They were met at the entrance by the usual “press mass,” as CJ sometimes called them. As she worked the press, CJ glanced over at Simon, exchanging a few words with one of the on-duty agents securing the hotel entrance. She was amused to see him fall into his agent mode, eyes scanning the crowd and the surrounding buildings, his gaze alert, face impassive. As she finally turned away to join him, she chuckled as they entered the hotel.

“Is it catching or did you get some alarming information from the agent at the door?”

“Is what catching?”

“Being an agent. You do have the day off today, you know.”

“Oh that. It might give you a big head, but you were out there in an official capacity and it brings out the agent in me. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

CJ stopped and looked at him, suddenly touched.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t.”

“Can I say I love you?”

“Always. Just make sure I know it’s not only when I’m your bodyguard.”

“I always love you, you idiot. Not only when you’re my bodyguard. I didn’t even know you were being my bodyguard sometimes and….”

“CJ?” Simon interrupted.

“We should get up there?”

“Probably.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, CJ. Always.”

 

They met back at Josh’s place – CJ, Simon, Toby, and Donna. Sam and Ainsley were already there when they arrived. As they entered Sam looked at Simon and cried in mock horror: “Hey, who let the Ritchie people in here?”

CJ looked pointedly at Ainslie, snuggled in Sam’s embrace on the couch, and asked, “Who let a Republican by choice in here?”

“I work for the President!” Ainsley protested.

“Did you vote for him today?”

“The question is unconstitutional…but as a matter of fact, I did.”

The room fell quite as every eye turned to her.

“You voted for President Bartlet?” asked Josh. “Should I call a doctor? Do you think it’s terminal?”

Sam tried to say something, but CJ kicked him. “Quiet, I want to hear this one!”

“It was a simple matter of looking at the candidates and what they had to offer. I think for myself, you know. I certainly don’t like the Republican candidate, or where he’s taking the party. I would, however, greatly appreciate it if this statement never left the room.”

Josh looked out his window and turned to CJ with an evil grin. “There’s, like, a whole bunch of reporters down there, mi amore. Think you should brief them?”

CJ, eyes gleaming, started for the door and Ainsley shrieked. Simon cracked up, Donna hit Josh, and CJ burst out laughing, opening the door when a knock came from outside. Carol and Ginger stepped in, with Carol asking, “What did we miss?”

 

It was a long day that stretched into a long evening. Tired as they all were, they were grateful to be with each other, especially as Leo’s updates from New Hampshire grew grumpier by the hour. When the first polling results started showing up, the tension in the apartment grew thick. Sam and Toby decided the best coping mechanism was unbridled optimism. They retired to Josh’s guest room and started drafting CJ’s victory statement to the press. Simon found himself massaging CJ’s tense neck and shoulders so often his arms actually started to hurt.   

 

By half past midnight the trend was becoming apparent with the West Coast results trickling in and more of the East and Central states going with Bartlet than anyone expected. CJ’s cell phone rang at 1am and everyone fell quiet, holding his or her breath. This should be it.

“CJ Cregg.”

“CJ, Jed Bartlet here. How are you?”

“I’m…nervous, Mr. President. How are you?” From the corner of her eye, she say Josh bring out Champagne, poised to open the bottle.

“I’m done being nervous CJ. I just got off the phone with the Governor of Florida.”

“And he said?”

“He said, and I quote the nice part only: ‘Congratulation, Mr. President Elect.’”

CJ remembered to hold the phone away from her as she let out a scream of ecstasy, recovered quickly and nodded to Josh with a huge grin. The room erupted as Champagne started flowing, and CJ had to go in the other room to finish the call. Toby handed her the statement he and Sam drafted. She ran it by the President and added some details. When she hung up, Simon was there, his grin huge, arms outstretched. As Toby slipped quietly away, CJ found herself crying in Simon’s arms. They were wonderful tears.

 

After the party, the statement to the press, and phone calls all around, CJ and Simon finally drove home. She sat on the steps looking up at the dawn breaking. He sat next to her, arm around her shoulder, as she tiredly rested her head against him.

“This is where I always want to be,” she whispered.

“This is where I always want us to be,” he answered.

“Simon, what happened to the girl who confused independence and freedom with no commitment, no strings attached?”

His heart leaped. “Maybe we left her in Miami?”

She remembered the terror of the weeks in the hospital, realizing with a shudder how close she came to losing everything that was right about her life. He was the first man who wasn’t threatened by her strength and independence, and so he was also the first one she trusted enough to see how vulnerable she sometimes felt. He didn’t want her to change; he simply wanted to be able to be there for her, with her, no matter what.

He looked down at her thoughtful expression. “CJ?”

“Mmmm…I think we did leave her there.”

“So…does that mean that the girl who came back from Miami will accept this?”

Heart beating wildly in his chest, he reached into his coat pocket and took out the ring he’s been carrying for the past three weeks. The timing never seemed right, until this moment.

CJ sat up straight, gasping as the diamond reflected tiny rays of light in all directions. It was set in a heart of small sapphires, an exquisite ring more beautiful than her sweetest fantasies. She started to cry.

“You know you really scare me sometimes, don’t you?” he said tentatively. “I can’t tell if this is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ reaction.”

“Yes. It’s a ‘yes.’ Even if I scare myself to death sometimes, it’s a definite YES!” she was laughing and crying at the same time, and he kissed her tears and the rest of her face, ending with her lips and not coming up for air for a long time. Both of his lungs were just fine, he though smugly as they finally broke off.

There were tears in his eyes as hers still trickled silently down her cheeks. And looking over the tops of the building, he said softly, “Look, CJ, it’s a brand new day.”

 

 

Ch. 6 – The Wedding

 

Every evening

Brings an ending

Every day becomes a legacy

 

CJ wished her father were still alive to see this day, though in his last year his mind wandered so far she doubted the day would have held any meaning for him if he were there. His death from a stroke last June (at least it wasn’t May, she often thought) came almost as a relief. At that point he still remembered who she was, though he kept asking her about classes at Berkley.

 

Every sunset

Leads to morning

With the promise of opportunity

 

It was near morning when Simon gave her the ring, the day after the election. Sitting on the front steps of her apartment building, she thought about how close she came to losing him in Miami, to a would-be-assassin’s bullets. She told him she no longer confused independence and freedom with “no commitment, no strings attached.” And he asked her to marry him then, because having come so close to losing everything, they no longer had to search for what was important. They’ve been through the fire and emerged stronger and closer than ever.

 

We can reach for the stars we find along the way

Dreaming as we learn to love everyday

Promise you will take my hand

As tomorrow comes

We’ll go on

 

He went back to security details, because that was who he was. Owing to their relationship, he could no longer be on the President’s detail, and that was sacrifice enough for him. She would never ask him to deny himself the job he loved, no matter how scared she was.

 

We’ll go on

Growing closer through the years

Moving on

Through the good times and the tears

Ever on

Another thousand circles ‘round the sun

If two can be as one

We’ll go on

 

CJ floated in Simon’s arms as they were dancing their wedding song. Her eyes closed, she was aware only of his body against hers, and the music seemed to fill not only the Rose Garden but her very soul as well. Not for the first time that day, she felt a lump in her throat and the tears threatened to flow. This day was everything she’s ever dreamed of, and more.

 

There is music

If you listen

In the rhythm of each breath we take

 

Her gown was white silk with a silvery lace layer on top, shimmering in the bright May sun. Held tightly in Simon’s arms, the gown seemed to caress her the way his hands often did, and she could feel his heart beat, blending with the music, as she pressed closer to him.

 

Destinations

Undiscovered

Revelations from every choice we make

 

It was May, because the previous May was when the stalker was caught and they went out for drinks after the play in New York. It was May because her friends – her chosen family – needed something to celebrate about a month that in the past brought Rosslyn, MS, and Mrs. Laningham’s death. Simon and CJ were determined to break what CJ only half-jokingly called “The Curse of May.”

 

“Well, we started breaking it last year,” he said with a smile when she brought up the idea.

“Yes, but let’s make it happen for everyone here.” She said and he kissed her and agreed that May was perfect.

 

And I know

There are diamonds dancin’ in the sky

All we have to do is open our eyes

 

At the first Senior Staff meeting after the election, CJ reached for her favorite cream cheese Danish, the light reflecting off the diamond on her finger and Josh choked on his coffee. Leo, mid-sentence, looked at him, annoyed.

“Josh, surely you’ve learned to drink from a cup by now!”

“Leo, there’s a…thing…on CJ’s finger…”

“What?”

CJ looked at Josh in disbelief and then started laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s called an engagement ring, Josh. Surely you’ve heard of it before?” That day, the enthusiastic and loving response that followed her announcement felt like a warm embrace that stayed with her all day.  Even the White House reporters, catching a glimpse of the ring during her morning briefing, went out of their way to offer their congratulations, though they all managed to sneak in some good-natured teasing about her Special Agent’s special qualities. She went home that night unable to stop smiling, and Simon’s mood matched her own. Some of his co-workers caught her briefing on TV and put him through all sorts of friendly hell. That night, they both declared themselves the happiest people on the planet. It was then they decided on May for their wedding.

 

Promise

We’ll walk side by side

As a new day dawns

We’ll go on

 

On Inauguration Day, when they were all back at the White House following the ceremony, the President called CJ to his office.

“CJ, do you like the Rose Garden?”

“Sir?”

“Do you like the Rose Garden? Does it seem like a nice place to have a wedding?”

“Whose wedding, Sir?”

He gave her a look and she suddenly had to sit down. Remembering protocol, she contended herself with leaning heavily against the chair she stood next to.

“Mr. President…I couldn’t…I mean, we would love to but…it’s usually for First Family weddings.”

“And how does your wedding NOT fit into this category?”

Now she was fighting back tears, unable to answer – a rare occurrence for her. He smiled softly and said, “If you have a date in mind, clear the Garden with whomever you need to clear it with. Make sure you tell them this event takes precedence over anything else scheduled for that day, and to deal with it.”

She didn’t think it would be possible on such short notice – barely five months away, with bill signings and summits galore planned for the Spring / Summer. But it was done with ease, and she suspected either Leo or the President leaned on some people to move events around and get her the Rose Garden for May 24th, 2003.

 

We’ll go on

Growing closer through the years

Moving on

Through the good times and the tears

 

“The Rose Garden???” Simon looked at her in disbelief. They had booked a place already, shortly after their engagement. He stopped by her office later on Inauguration Day, after her talk with the President, and found her flushed with excitement. Trying to contain himself, he opted for gruffness. “Do you have any idea what our guests would have to go through to be here? Not to mention what my co-workers will do to me for putting them through vetting all these guests?”

“Would you like to be the one telling the President ‘Thanks but no thanks’?”

He smiled softly and shook his head in disbelief. “I’m just in shock. It’ll pass.”

 

Ever on

Another thousand circles ‘round the sun

 

CJ was a bundle of nerves as the date grew nearer. She was somehow able to do her job, though in her perfectionist mind her performance was less than satisfactory. She chose Hogan as her Maid of Honor. Simon’s brother Andrew would be the Best Man. The caterer and photographer were set. The gown ordered. The music set. She was immensely grateful for Donna and Carol’s help. They threw themselves into the preparation as enthusiastically as if this were their own wedding. It wasn’t lost on CJ that Josh eased Donna’s schedule enough to allow her the extra time to help with the wedding.

“I know what you’re doing. Thanks, Josh,” she said one morning, stopping by his office after her briefing.

“It gets Donna off my back. You know, she keeps nagging me about the Healthcare Bill. Something about her grandfather…” Then he gave her the Dimpled Grin. “Besides, I plan to ask you to do the Jackal at the wedding. And you can’t say no. That and a dance,” he added.

“You would have had the dance anyway,” she laughed, and then her face softened. “You really are very sweet sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah, well, don’t spread the word.”

 

At the wedding, she gave him two dances, and the Jackal, which rendered Simon’s off-duty male comrades nearly catatonic. Come to think of it, even Ron Butterfield, very much on duty, seemed close to a heart attack. CJ grinned at Simon’s appreciative catcalls, and his murderous looks at the other agents making the same noises.

“Double standard?” she asked sweetly when he folded her in his arms.

“Hey, you’re my wife!”

She grinned. “You can’t tell me you’ll never again enjoy that kind of a performance by another woman, can you?”

Laughing, he raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. “Uncle. You win.”

 

She danced with Toby, who, to her delight, came with Andi. She danced with Sam while Simon danced with Ainsley, and she danced with the President, who earlier walked her down the aisle. The First Lady danced with Simon, and refused to give him back.

“He’s a better dancer than Jed,” she grinned. “I think I’ll keep him.”

“You danced with him at the Inaugural Ball,” protested her husband. “You didn’t say anything then!”

“I had my suspicions. I needed to confirm them today.”

 

Before the cake cutting ceremony, she told Simon she would kick his butt from here to the top of the Washington Monument if he smeared the cake on her face. He grinned at her mischievously. “Oh, but everyone expects it!”

“Remind me again why I trusted you with my life?”

“You had no choice.”

“But I do now.”

“And…?”

“And if you smear cake on my face I’ll kick your butt from here to the top of the Washington Monument. But I would still trust you with my life.”

He didn’t smear cake on her face.

 

Donna caught the bouquet, so Simon made sure the garter was aimed at Josh. “Secret Service training comes in handy at the most unexpected times,” he quipped as CJ gave him the thumbs up sign. She made sure the photographer caught the reluctant couple’s flushed faces as Josh pushed the garter up Donna’s leg. CJ promised Josh to pass copies of the pictures to the press if he didn’t pay Donna more attention for the rest of the afternoon. Apparently the threat worked, because the two spent the entire afternoon dancing and chatting with each other. Ainsley and Sam needed no such threats.

 

Hogan danced with Anthony for seemingly the whole day.

“I want a picture of these two,” CJ smiled.

“That’s one for the books, for sure,” Simon smiled in reply.

There were many pictures for the books that day. Group pictures, pictures of individuals, and couples pictures. None of these pictured rivaled the one candid shot of a radiant bride looking up at her ecstatic groom, their smiles bright, and their eyes speaking of the deepest love that was strong enough to break “The Curse of May.”

 

A new life has begun

When two of us are one

And we live to keep the promise

We’ll go on

Ever on

We’ll go on

 

The song Promise - From: Walt Disney World Resort's "Millenium Celebration" - Written by: Gavin Greenaway and Don Dorsey - © 1999