Author: Regency

Title: A Time For Joshua…Cregg?

Pairing: Can't think of anything

Warning: If you can't stand a mother's love then…be gone.

Disclaimer: So not mine. CJ belongs to Aaron Sorkin as do just about everyone (excluding Joshua Cregg) in this story.

Summary: When her country's in turmoil, she doesn't blink, but when her son is miserable with a cold, she can't blink back the tears fast enough.

Author's Notes: This has no basis on anything. I just had this thought and it stayed with me. Oh, and I can spell, but when you have a cold it doesn't matter, because nothing comes out right.

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*ACHOO!* *ACHOO!* *ACHOO!*

I look up from my current White House report at the familiar and worrying sound. I push up my pajama sleeve to look at my watch to see that it's 11:30. Dear God, what was he still doing up?

I get up from the spot I'vw been occupying in front of the CNN tuned TV to walk to the little hall leading to where Joshua's room is.

"Joshua…baby? You okay, there?`" The only response was another long string of miserable-sounding *achoos* form the almost completely dark room. The only light to be seen was the nightlight on the nightstand, slightly illuminating a pale face framed with light brownish-red hair and freckles.

I come all the way in and hit the light switch to the left of the door absently as I'm already on her way to her son's side. I can't help but be stopped cold at the abject misery on my son's normally bright face. His poor little nose is red and his beautiful eyes are puffy.

"Baby…what's wrong." He rubs his eyes roughly, obviously trying to lose the grit, so that he can see me better.

"Mysh shnoce's all 'tuffy an 'ticky. Mysh ice are puppy an' iscky. An' mysh heth hur's bommy. An' I's rewwly hoth." It was kind of hard to tell which mispronunciations were form his cold and which were from his missing teeth. I reach up to rest my hand on his forehead, confirming what he'd just told me. He had a pretty bad little fever, it felt like, and the was just one discomfort he had to suffer.

"You want some medicine?" I could kicked herself for that. Of course he didn't want medicine. He was seven. What seven year-old wants medicine? Not mine. There was no protest form the bed and that immediately sets my mommy alert on high.

"An' mysh bellys hur's" he adds almost as a painful afterthought. It takes all of my will not to run for the phone and call for an ambulance or worse…call Abbey Bartlet. *Shiver* The urge was there, but I am the mother, therefore I won't.

I decide to ask again. "You want some medicine, baby?" With a painfully ineffectual sniffle, he nodded. "Okay, honey, hold on." I get to the door and turn around. "Bubble gum, grape, or cherry?" I watch him make that face of concentration that I love so much as he contemplated his choices.

"Chewwy witth gwapemelon dewwo pweese." I nodded and smiled as I headed to the kitchen with a detour at the bathroom to get a washcloth and the thermometer. He's so good at getting things he wasn't offered that he could take my job and do it successfully.

Coming back form the kitchen, I see Josh struggling to get comfortable on his ( in this case ) not comfortable enough bed. I stop in the doorway as he struggles for comfort and listen to his struggle for breath.

"Hey, little one, what's up? Why we doing the caterpillar?" If I'd though he was miserable before, he looks down right harassed now.

"I's canth breve." His eyes are watery. He's crying. God, what's wrong with my baby? Suddenly the room I picked especially for him seems too little, too suffocating for this little boy with a big smile. Putting down all of the things I picked up on his desk, I walk to the side of the bed and put my arms out to him. He reaches up and wraps his arm around my neck. Sliding an arm under his knees, I pull him off the bed and hold him close, smelling the L'Oreal Kids: No tangles, no tears shampoo and the grapemelon jello I'd given him for desert in his hair. How it got there, I doubt I'll ever know.

"You're gonna come stay in my room tonight, 'kay, babe?" I feel his soft hair shift against my neck as he nods. I hoist him up a bit higher before starting the short trek to my much bigger bedroom.

I lay him down on my soft, beige comforter and walk around the bed to pull down the second bedsheet so that he could lie under the light cover. I walked back around to pick him up again. Laying him on the turned down side, I pull the sheet up to his waist so he wouldn't overheat. By then his head had a light sheen of perspiration covering his pale forehead. Remembering the things I left in his room, I jog back to get them. Standing alone in his room, I realize that without his seething fever beneath my fingers the room was almost dead cold. That does not inspire any confidence in me right now.

I shake off those thoughts and hurry back to Josh who is starting to toss around again. I snap my fingers as I realize something I should have remembered at the beginning. Vick's Vapor Rub. Hello! CJ, where's your head? Again, putting down the retrieved items, I take off for the bathroom. Opening the cabinet over the sink, I find what I'm looking for and am happy to find the jar brand new. Way to go CJ! Okay, enough self-praise, back to the little guy.

I sit down beside him on the bed and gently stroke his face. He opens his bleary eyes to look me vaguely. "Okay, I need you to sit up for me. Can you do that?" He nods and gives a meek attempt at it before I assist. Resting him against me, I open the cough syrup first and pour it into that little plastic cup it comes with. I watch him cringe as it goes down with difficulty. Opening jello one handed is a serious hassle, but I manage. Using a spoon, I help him with the first slurp of jello. His breathing is still labored and I tell him to lay back down. He does so, uncharacteristically. Don't get me wrong. He's a good boy, but he can't follow an order from hell. That he got from his dad.

I undo the top three buttons of his shirt. I open the jar and I see him already start to breathe easier. With a severely icked look, I stick my finger in the gooey stuff and gently smather it over my son's little chest until it's absorbed into his skin. I watch his face for a moment to see if I can detect a change. His eyes open up and to prove he's feeling a bit better, he takes a great big breath and then proceeds to basically cough up a lung. Not quite up to snuff yet.

I reach up and ruffle his hair gently. "You're not quite your old self yet, babe, but you're getting there." I lean down and kiss his forehead. He sniffles a bit with an agreeing smile. There's that gap I love so much. " All right, guy, sleepy time." His eyes protest before he can even speak. I just give him the patented 'mommy look' I've looked forward to giving since I was just a girl myself. He immediately backs down, but there's defiance in that surrender. It's definitely conditional.

"Onlif you shtay with mhe." He's getting better, but some of that lisp I recognize.

"Okay, but when I come back it's straight to sleep mister. For *both* of us." He wrinkles his nose, but acquiesces. I retrace my steps and return everything to it's place. On the way back I turn off the CNN for a change. Something I never do. It's always been background noise to help me sleep, but tonight the only noise I need is going to be right next to me.

I fold down the covers and slip into the bed. Josh instinctively cuddles up to me. I slide my arms around him and whisper "Good night, babe."

"Night, momma." Before I close my eyes, I see the digital clock next to the bed flashing 2:35. Time sure goes fast when you're worried about your son. Just as I doze off, I think I hear a phone, but I ignore it. If the world *outside* is coming to the end, what can I do about it? Because as far I'm concerned, my world exists completely within these walls, no within these sheets…my arms. The world has had had its time today . Now was a time for Joshua…

and he has much more time on the books than the world.

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