Well, of course, Ellie was the last to come down for breakfast, Rick in tow. There was no way I could talk to her just then. Everyone was there. But I thought I had to try to get her attention, at least. There was no way to do it without drawing some kind of suspicion upon myself, so I said, what the hell and went with it.

" Hey, Ellie?" I'm still looking down at my food, trying to appear somewhat casual and as always, failing miserably.

"Yeah." She's not even paying attention to me. She's canoodling with her boy toy, who is beginning to annoy me. I think whatever hormones in me are starting to seriously kick in.

"Hey, I'm talking to you and it'd be preferable if you looked at me while I did it." I feel the eyebrows rise around the table. I don't care. I tried to get her attention the nice way and she ignored me. Now, I get to be a bitch about it. "Ellie, can I talk to you now, please?" I've perfected the art of the requested order. It's sounds like a question, but it's so not.

"But--"

"Now, Eleanor!" I put down my fork and stand up. Sometimes, I can't tell who I sound more like; my mother or my father. I like to think of myself as a sweet little combination of both.

We go to stand outside and it's not hard to see that Ellie pissed at being addressed as before. I'm starting to feel bad and I look down a little guiltily.

"Zoey, what the hell was that about?" I rub my hand over my face. God, I just got up and I'm already exhausted. This is not what I need right now. I shouldn't even be out here talking to her.

"I'm sorry; I really needed to talk to you and naturally, you were more interested in Rick than in me." Maybe this is me being unfair, but I need my sister and she isn't there for me. It was never this way before.

"Zoey--!" She looks confused and a little hurt. I know the feeling, I'm hurt too.

"You know what? Don't worry about…" I make vague motions with my hands. "This…thing. I've got this. I've got Dad." I didn't say that to hurt her, but I do. I have him with me, so I'm okay. I guess I'm okay. Yeah, I'm okay.

"Zoey--?" I put my hand up to keep her from talking. I almost want to laugh. She's barely gotten a word out edgewise throughout this whole, I almost said conversation, but it's really more of a monologue.

I look up at my older sister and I love her. I don't know what brought the thought on, but I just do. I shake my head. I don't understand what's happening with me right now; I just know I need to not be having this conversation.

I take a step forward and give my sister a hug and kiss her on the cheek. Maybe she'll forgive me, maybe she'll understand. I hope so. Before she can speak, I step away and walk back into the kitchen to retake my seat. I find myself eating the food that had nauseated me not half an hour ago. I'm famished. Emotional upheaval always did give me an appetite.

wwwwwwwwww

You Make Me Feel…Like A Natural Mother

I start for the door, before deciding that I'm not ready to face the day yet, to face other human, you know, things. That's not a rare occurrence these days. Does all pregnancy feel this way? God, I hope not. Otherwise, it does not bode well for any future Bartlet-Young babies. That's if we can get past this one, real or imagined.

I lay facedown on the bed, weary beyond all possibility and suddenly the scope of what I'm doing, the reality of it all is too much. What I'm doing, too selfish. Dear God, what have I done? And as the familiar queasiness hits me, I ask myself, 'What the hell do I think I'm doing?' What right do I have to do what I'm doing? And for what? For no other reason than to graduate with my class? Would another year really be such hell? I realize the answer too late. It wouldn't have been too bad. It may have even been fun. More opportunities to do something I love: To learn. But, as they say, "Pride comes before the fall." Truer words were seldom spoken. Especially not in the life of a college student, this college student.

As I roll over to stare at the ceiling, there's a knock at the door. I don't think I'm ready to see anyone right now. They continue to knock despite my silence.

"Zoey, honey, it's Dad. Can I come in?" For a moment, I actually consider not letting him in, but that doesn't last for long.

"Come in, Daddy." I don't think I've called him 'Daddy' in years. He comes in slowly, peeking his head around to make sure I don't have any sharp objects, me thinks. That brings a tiny, little thing of smile to my face. "Don't worry, no sharp objects." I hold up both hands as proof. He smiles back at me. I can't help, but see myself in his eyes and wonder if I look as tired as he does. I'm sure I do.

I sit up with some difficulty and do a cursory inspection of my father. He leans back against the door and watches me. His face is hidden from me in the vague midmorning shadow. His eyes still shine at me though. It's like in those horror movies when the creature stares out from the dark wherever at him prey. That's not particularly concerting.

"I heard you talking to Ellie this morning…I'm pretty sure we all did." I don't know what to say to that. "You know, I know a little about sibling politics and that there was contrived. There wasn't a single way she could have won with you just then, was there?" I shake my head in the negative. Why lie? He's got me down pretty well. "What's happening, angel? You know, you can tell me." I bite my lip and nod. I pat the bed beside me. He steps out of the shadows and plops down next to me. He puts an arm out and I don't hesitate to slide under there. I hide my head under his chin, in the crook of his neck. It's easier to cuddle him than to look at him. He knows this and only squeezes me gently. I sit there for what feels like forever before I start to talk.

"Daddy, I'm scared out of my mind right now." I don't feel his confusion, so his next question causes mine.

"What are you afraid of?" He already knows. I know he does. He always knows.

"You already know."

"That doesn't mean you've admitted it to yourself. Sometimes you have to say it to yourself or to someone else. Maybe a father even, or a sister." I think he's hinting at something there. Nah.

"Was that a hint?"

"That wasn't anything you didn't want it to be."

"Okay, well I see how you became a politician." He throws up an eyebrow at me. That's something he stole from mom. He knows that too.

"Very funny. Now, quit stalling, would you? What's wrong?" I sigh and snuggle a little closer. I'm practically on his lap now. He's not complaining.

I'm afraid that if what I'm starting to think is true that…I'll turn into Liz. I don't want to be Liz, Daddy." He strokes my hair as I feel the tears wet his collar.

"What wrong with being Liz?"

"It's not so much that something's wrong with her. It's just that she's so determined to be a better parent than you, Daddy. She's so sure that you and Mom were that bad that she can't follow any of her dreams, because that would mean being a bad parent. I don't want that. I want to be what I want to be and I want my kids to know what I want to be, what I will be. I don't wanna miss the important stuff, but I don't want to look back on my life and have children, a husband not a whole hell of a lot else. She doesn't even see what she's done to herself, because she's so sure that she's doing it better, that it will be better this way. She thinks Annie doesn't know and that Gus won't feel it too, one day. But he will. She doesn't get that Annie isn't rebellious, so much as just trying to get out of her mother's way so that she can follow the dreams that she thinks are lost to her. I don't want my children to hide from me out of some misguided since of debt and compensation. I want them to get knee-deep in whatever I do, to be right there with me. I want a rebel who's a rebel just because. I just want to be a good mom, Daddy, even when I feel like I'm predisposed to not be." I let out a ragged breath and wait for him to say something, anything. It takes me a moment to realize he's crying too. He's crying because he knows. He's always known.

"You'll be an amazing mother, Zoey. Never doubt that. And God willing, your mother and I will be right there with you. We won't let you turn into Liz. Believe us, we've tried talking to her about it; she won't hear it from us. She thinks we're trying to run her family, that just because we helped her raise Annie in the early years we think we're entitled to have an opinion about every decision she makes regarding her children. She's got her blinders on and that's fine. I just hope she'll take 'em off before she runs head-first into a tree or off a bridge at full speed. One day, she'll ask herself whether she wants right or saved. When that happens, well, we'll see…" I nod a little.

"It's not even that she's a bad mother, but she's trying so hard to do something that comes naturally--" Daddy interrupts.

"It comes naturally to you, honey. It's not the same for everyone. When I saw you with that little baby in the Oval a few days ago, I thought that I'd stepped into some time-warp and that I was in the future with you and your child. The whole scene…was right, Zoey. There was no awkwardness. It was just you doing what comes naturally to you, mothering. Liz never really had that ease, not at first. She grappled with motherhood with Annie, even with Gus, a little. She just hid it better the second time around. She's spent years trying to convince us that she's a good mother, now she's trying to convince herself and she'll never believe it until her children are grown up and thanking her for all the sacrifices she's made. I hope it's not too long time before she realizes that that's not what it's about." I lean back a little to look at him.

"What's it about?" He looks surprised that I haven't figured it out by now. I shrug I'm no one's mother.

"It's about your children living to grow up, living to bury you, the parent. Because that's when they are no longer your responsibility. That's the way it's supposed to end. They can live their whole lives without you and they're still your baby, no matter how long you're apart or how old they get. That's all it's ever about, besides spoiling the grandkids, of course." I smile. Of course. "Whatever happens, you'll be all right, honey. I'm with you, your sisters are with you, your mother, and, of course, Charlie." I nod.

"Of course." There's a moment of silence and we both laugh. My heart feels lighter. I think I can do this, whatever this is. I'm not alone. Whatever happens, I'll do what comes naturally. I'll be a mother.

wwwwwwwwwwww

"You look a little pregnant."

"Thank you, Daddy. I didn't already feel fat before. Now, I know I look fat." His eyes go wide and I know he's having flashbacks to Mom and Liz. "Careful, Dad. You're having a flashback."

"Boy, am I." He shakes his head to clear it. "What exactly do you need?"

"I need a pregnancy test. At least one."

"I'd suggest more than one of several kinds. Those things can gives false everythings. Your mother took two of the exact same test and got positive and negative. That was confusing for her, me, and the doctor."

"They had pregnancy tests when Mom was pregnant with us?" I didn't know that.

"No, it was more recent. A few years ago." His voice is quiet. I know I shouldn't ask, but I have to know.

"What happened?" He shrugs

"Back at the beginning of the congressional hearings, your mother was very sick. She thought she had the flu. I wasn't so sure about that. I know her body better than my own and I've seen her pregnant enough times to know what the symptoms are when it happens. I asked her about it. She said that there was absolutely no way that she was pregnant. So naturally she almost certainly was. We had someone we trusted go out and buy her two pregnancy tests. She took them both at the same time. One said negative, the other positive. That was useless, so we set up a doctor's appointment for her. Naturally, everything went downhill from there and we didn't end up keeping the appointment because your mother had retreated to Manchester. Long story short, if there was a baby…there wasn't a baby, either way." I stare at my father and wonder if that's as easy to say as it sounds. I don't think it is.

"I'm sorry." That's inadequate, but it's all I've got.

"Me too, Zoey. Me too. I'll get CJ to buy a few tests for you. Is that okay?" I nod.

"That'd be fine. I'm going to lay down for awhile, I don't feel too good." I press my fingers to my temple for a moment.

"Why don't you lay on the couch in here? I swear it's comfortable." I look at him, incredulously.

"Are you serious? Wouldn't I be in the way?"

"Peach Patch, I'm the President. What I say goes. If I want my daughter to nap in the Oval Office, then, dammit my daughter will nap in the Oval Office." I shake my head. My life is too odd. "Besides, you could keep me company. It gets lonely in here sometimes." He sounds sad. It puts me in the mind of the phrase: It's lonely at the top. Boy, isn't it?

I plop down on the couch, head by the door so that I can watch him. "Guess I'm staying." He shakes his head at me.

"I guess you are. Get some sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you up for lunch." As I start to drift off, he stops me. "Hold on, hold on. I forgot to do something." He gets up and leans down over me. He presses a kiss to my forehead. "There you go. Now you can go to sleep." I would laugh if I wasn't so drowsy. I settle for a sleepy grin. As my eyes close, I think I feel him put his blazer over me. Wrapped up in his familiar warmth, I snuggle down and fall asleep. Daddy's right, this couch is comfortable.

wwwwwwwww

The Favor

Dad's POV

I'm sitting in the Oval Office, signing things that I don't care about and probably couldn't tell you about even if I did. I'm waiting for my senior staff to come in on staff call. Let's be frank, the only one I really care about talking to at this point is CJ. Oh, I love the rest of them, but I CJ's the one I need today. But the rest of them can't know that. So in they come…Josh, Sam, Toby, and, last, but not least CJ. Leo slips in through the side door. We do the customary greeting, which we really have to do away with. They get so dull after awhile. Anyway, we do those and then, they begin to tell me about the things that are about to become my problem throughout the day. All I have to do is open my eyes in the morning and I have more problems than I had when I went to bed and the ones I had before have gotten worse. I mean, I can't step, lean, or breathe in any direction without offending the right or alienating the left. But, boy, does the center love me…most of the time.

Anyway, Josh goes first in telling me about a bill that we're trying to get passed that is actually starting to look like it might pass. I've long since learned not to get excited or to base my moods on the machinations of the 108th(?) United States Congress. I'm not excited, because, let's be honest, I've got other things to be thinking about. I smile what I think is encouragingly and tell him to go for it. Don't sell the marriage for the license, but go for it. He smiles in his somehow modestly arrogant way and sits back to let someone else take center stage. Toby…wonderful. Somehow my nearly positive mood is about to get severely axed and the executioner is named Toby Ziegler. He's about to tell me how we aren't talking about the things that matter, about the things that affect, really affect, people's lives. He keeps throwing this in my face like I'm completely ignorant or completely blind or just too stupid to feel the hopelessness that seems to enshroud the world we live in today. I'm not blind or any of those things, I'm stuck in a powerfully hopeless position. He going to be articulate, he's going to be polite, brutal…and completely right. That's Toby.

He begins to speak and I barely resist the urge to prematurely bang my head on the desk and continue with this day in a concussed stupor. It honestly couldn't hurt much, since most people seem to think that that's how I go about my day anyway; my brains dripping profusely out of my terribly left ear. Or my unbelievably centered nose, depends on who you talk to. At least, I could never be accused of being significantly right-wing.

"Mr. President, we're off message, sir. We--we're not saying what we should be saying at this point in our term." Note the our term. "The people aren't hearing what they should be hearing from the man that made them so many promises. The man, the people in the big, White, House promised them a better life and, so far, they don't seem to be reaping the benefits of this, so called, better life. Where is it, this better life? Did someone send me a package that got lost in transit? Did my neighbor overcome and leave me behind? Did I miss the bus, if not to Easy Street, to a street that's easier than this? That's what they're asking, sir. So, why aren't we answering?" I look up at him for just a moment, but the accusation is his gaze has me disillusioned. I want to change the world; that's why I'm here, but I can't. Every way we turn, there's a roadblock. To help, we must give; to give, we must lose.

"I'm the man, right?" I'm not being funny; I just don't have anything else to say to all this. He seems to think I'm being funny.

"Mr. President--" I interrupt him; he hates that and I don't give a bit of a damn. I move to my feet and my voice reaches volumes sure to be heard outside these doors, but I don't care, because he doesn't know what I know.

"Toby, I'm not as blind, stupid, or ignorant, as you are in your oh so, roundabout way trying to tell me you think I am. I see my people, Toby. I see their pain. I sleep, no I lay awake at night with their pain to keep me company. I swear more than once, it's pushed Abbey out of the bed. " I hear vague sniggering quelled quickly by a sharp glance from Leo. " I eat, drink, and think with that pain, Toby. No matter what I do from here on out of here, that pain is as much mine as the heart that beats in my chest. I live and will die with it. Because, I've let them suffer for much too long; too many have died on my watch. I want to change the world too, Toby. Show me a way, any way, and change the world I will. Show me a way." I stare at him, dizzy and out of breath. If he can give me any way, short of a pact with Satan himself, I will do it. I just want to serve my people and my God, who I love in equal measure. I just want to do what I was put here for.

My hands grasp the edge of the desk with white knuckles. I'm so frazzled that I think I've developed a nervous tic. My vision is getting a little fuzzy around the edges and I blink to try and clear it. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest. I close my eyes in an attempt to regain my equilibrium, it's not easy. I can literally hear myself breathe.

"Mr. President?" I can hear the concern in CJ's voice. She's closer than I remember her being. "Mr. President, I'm going to help you back into your seat and then, I'm going to call the First Lady down here, as well as have Admiral Hackett paged." I've finally gotten a hold on myself and can open my eyes. Sam and Josh are poised to stand and Toby is stroking his chin busily, his face set hard. Leo is close on my other side, his face more concerned than he'd be comfortable with if he could see himself. I take another breath and find that I can breathe fine now. I shake my head.

"CJ, I'm fine. I just got a little worked up. Don't worry, I'm fine. " I look to both she and Leo, making deliberate eye contact. Then, I look to Josh and Sam, receiving wary nods, but they're still poised to stand. I look to Toby, who's looking to the ground. I know that stance. He's feeling uncharacteristically guilty. I know it could be days before he looks me in the eye again, so I don't even try. "Guys, I'm okay. I'm well. Please, don't worry. Now, can we get on with this? What else is there on the agenda for today?" I have the feeling that the agenda just got a lot lighter by silent unanimity.

"That's all for the day, Mr. President. Guys, you have your things. Go do them." CJ starts to move from my side with the rest of them. I remember the reason I needed to talk to her.

"CJ, could you stay? I need to talk to you about something." She looks at me warily, probably thinking I'm going to berate her for her actions a few moments ago. I smile, attempting to reassure her and she smiles back at me. Her defensive stance eases. Good, otherwise this could quickly go wrong. She should know that I'd never scald her for her concern. If she wasn't concerned, then she wouldn't be Claudia Jean.

"Yes, sir." I wait for Toby, Sam, and Josh to file out silently, throwing suspicious glances over their shoulders as though they have the notion that they're being left out of an important loop. It's a loop, just not their loop. I'm about to start talking when I realize that Leo's still standing off to the side. I look behind me at him and raise my eyebrows. He looks back at me, obviously not getting it or not wanting it. I motion towards the connecting door to his office, hoping he'll get the hint without me having to spell it out for him in front of CJ.

"You want me to close it?" Okay, that's ignorance on purpose and he knows it.

"I want you to go through it…and yeah, then you can close it." He still looks surprised that I'm basically giving him the boot. Well, this isn't his loop either…at least, not for a few months yet. It's already CJ's loop. He's taking his sweet time getting there, looking over his shoulder like I'm actually going to start talking until he's out of the room, with the door firmly closed.

It takes him what feels like an hour, but he eventually gets out and the door does get closed after I have CJ go close it. Closing it seemed to slip his mind after he crossed the threshold. Right.

CJ comes to stand in front of me. I wave a hand towards the chair next to my desk. She sits down, the worried look back on her face.

"CJ, take a breath before you pass out. You're not being fired, nor are you being reprimanded. Calm down."

"Then, sir, if I may ask, why am I here? I mean, if I haven't done anything wrong?"

"I have to ask you a favor. It's not an order, you may feel free to decline at any time, but if you did this, I and certain members of my family would be eternally grateful." I may have made that sound less like a request and more like a plea. I hope I haven't made her feel as though she should feel obligated to do this. She swallows and shifts in her seat.

"What's the favor exactly?" Now for the clincher.

"I need you to buy some home pregnancy tests for me. I obviously can't buy them myself and I trust you. I need someone I trust to do this, someone who would be above question and that's you. If you need time to think about this, I understand. Take as much time as you need." She has a perplexed look on her face.

"Mr. President, I'm a ways from health class, but I'm pretty sure those tests can't be for you. And I thought Abbey was well…beyond…you know, that." She clears her throat and looks down. I would laugh at her, but I don't think that'd help anything.

"Yeah, it's not for Abbey, but don't give up on her quite yet." CJ looks up and gives me a look with spark. I send that spark right back. Hey, I could still do it. She grins a little. I know that little interchange will stay between us. "It's for one of the girls…" I don't say more than that and she looks at me, trying to read what I'm not saying out loud. I never got Zoey's exclusive permission to tell anyone, but I can still help her along.

"Okay. Is it Liz?" I quirk an eyebrow. "Okay, I don't know what that is, so that's for later. Is it Ellie?" I look over each of my shoulders, left and right. "We're going to call that a no. Zoey?" I point at her with my pen. She sits up straight. "You're okay with that?" I smile. It doesn't matter one way or another.

"I don't think it matters whether I'm okay with it, CJ. God's got his own plans. So will you do it?" She sits for a moment.

"Yes, sir. Which tests do you need specifically or will any do?" I take a piece of stationery out of my drawer. It's a list of tests that we want her to get. We surfed the web and researched which were best and decided that if we were gonna do it, we may as well make it a project. There's a set number of each kind. If we get more than fifty/fifty either way, we're going to the doctor. We're probably going either way, but still…I hand her the list. Her eyes widen.

"That's a lot of tests, sir."

"You will be completely reimbursed for the full cost of the tests, as well as for any gas you expend in taking the trip. And if you get into an accident on the way, you can stay in the Residence to recuperate."

"That's very generous of you, Mr. President." I flash a smile and give a semi-careless shrug.

"I'm a generous guy."

"That you are, Mr. President, that you are." She stands, still perusing the list. "Is this all, sir?" I nod and she moves towards the door.

"CJ, I trust you will use discretion in handling this errand?" She finally looks up. I know I can trust her, but I need her to know that.

"Of course, sir. The utmost." I sit back. My part here is basically done.

"You can go."

"Thank you, Mr. President." She opens the door, slipping the list into her pocket. She turns back to me for a moment. "Sir, we know why you're here. Sometimes we just forget that you're just a powerless as us. You just have more perks." I'm grinning now. I've done the only thing I think I'm going to be getting done today and I'm feeling pretty good.

"I know." She does, they do. She nods and slips away. And now it's up to her, next God, and then…we'll see.

I pick up the phone and push line two. Debbie can't make this call for me. I know I won't forget. I push the number for the Residence. Ellie picks up. "Eleanor, hey, sweetheart."

"Hey, dad. What's up? Is something wrong?" I smile. Eleanor was always the worry-wart. She's the human manifestation of her mother's nervous side.

"No, honey, everything's fine. Could you get Zoey on the phone for me?" I can tell she's still suspicious, but she agrees.

"I'll get her." I hear her put the phone down and walk away. I sit here and wait…and wait…and wait some more. There must be something else I need to be doing. Finally, someone picks up the phone.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah."

"You talked to CJ?"

"Yeah."

"And?" She's the human manifestation of her mother's excitable side.

"And she's on board."

"Did you tell her?"

"She knows the who, but not the how or the circumstances." I would swear that a snarky remark lingers in the air, but it goes unsaid.

"Okay."

"Okay? Is that all?"

"Daddy, you're more excited about this than I am, aren't you?" I would be smiling bigger, but I think my face would split.

"A little. That might be my next grandchild in there." The thought is one-fourth horrifying, three-fourths exciting. Okay, half and half. Maybe a little more the former than the latter?

"Don't get too excited, Dad. It might not be, too. I don't want to disappoint you if that turns out to be the case." My smile dims. I've been here before; it's always the disappointment that hurts the most.

"I know, sweetheart, but I can still hope."

"I know, Dad. Me too, me too." And for a second I fancy that I can hear her mother's wonder in her voice. But just for a second.

Next Part

Last Part