Author: Regency

Title: Out of Bed, Sick As Hell

Season/Spoiler (s): I don't know. I guess you'll only know if you've seen the ep, right?

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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

Turning over in bed, I know immediately no one's going anywhere today. Is he sneezing or am I? The bed jumps lightly next to me. Well, that answers that question. At least, I'm not sick. *ACHOO!* Okay, so maybe I spoke too soon, but who knew?

Anyway, top priority: Assess the munchkin.

I push up in the bed and turn to look where Josh should be laying (lying?), but he isn't there. I look around the room. Nope, no Joshua. Hmmm. I throw back the covers and stumble out of bed. I could have sworn he was here a moment ago. He's never where he should be and always where he shouldn't be.

I stick my head into the hall, expecting to find him outside my or his door, but he isn't there. I bite my lip and head up the hall to his room.

And what do you know? It's the munchkin himself, actually trying to get dressed for school and *ACHOO*-ing the whole way through. In the room I can, through my own stuffy nose, catch a slight whiff of his bubble-gum flavored toothpaste and the lotion that I make him put on for his dry skin. His hair is brushed into some chaos-theory semblance of order, but at least he made an effort, given the fact that he's at the age where he's starting to hate going to school. He does it because I tell him it would make me happy and he hasn't started to hate me yet, so that still makes a difference. I'm proud, but now it's time to teach him a careful lesson. Sometimes it's okay to not go to school, especially if you're sick. I must be careful in how I teach this. Or he'll never get out of bed in the mornings on account of a stomach ache. Hell, I'd never get out of bed on account of a stomach ache.

Speaking of, you know, not getting out of bed, I need to call in and let Leo know I'm not gonna be in today. I can't leave Josh here sick and I can't lead a briefing feeling like this. My normal defenses aren't up. I need them up, otherwise I run the risk of another Haiti screw up, though most of that screw-up wasn't on my part. Mine was just the more publicized of the many.

Anyway, time to put this little guy back to bed. I walk fully into the room.

"Hey, babe. Watcha doin'?" He stops buttoning up his shirt to look at me.

"Getting weady for school." I 'ah' and nod. I plop down tiredly onto his bed and watch him as he reaches for his sweater.

" You don't need to. You're not going." I barely hold back a chuckle as he looks up to me, almost hopefully. He really doesn't want to go. I know the feeling. He looks slightly suspicious. The only times he's ever managed to evade school has been when he's been sick and has had to go to the doctor. Well, there's no doctor this time, unless you count Abbey whose still on mental speed-dial as we speak.

"Why not?" Why not, he asks. I love this kid.

"Why not?" I mimic him. He doesn't care for this. "I thought you'd be happy." He shakes his head hard. I can see a brain rush coming. His or mine is hard to tell. My sympathy pains are up.

"Not if I have to see the doctor. I don't like the doctor. He has needles." Let's just say: him, needles, and white lab coats are a bad combination. There always ends up being an excessive amount of bloodshed involved and not all his. Some of it mine. Some of it the doctor's. None of it painless or really the little guy's fault. He just really dislikes needles. Now, he's not afraid of them per se, but he does not like them at all. At least that’s what he says. But he's a guy, plain and simple. I don't exactly expect him to be completely truthful about it.

"There's no doctor, sweetie."

"Then, why can't I go to school and why aren't you going to work?"

"'Cause, hon, I really don't feel that good and I know you don't either. So go ahead and get undressed. We're staying in. Is that okay?" He nods. I get up to help him get his sweater off when it gets stuck over his head. I ruffle his hair and kiss his temple. "Call me if you need some help. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." His response is muffled as he struggles to get his undershirt off. I shake my head and head for the kitchen.

I lean tiredly against the kitchen counter and cover my mouth in a yawn. I reach for the phone and dial the numbers I know by heart. The phone rings a few times before Leo picks up. I have his direct number. Do not pass the switchboard, do not pass Margaret. Go straight to Leo.

"Leo McGarry." He's not a hello person, even on a good day.

"Leo, it's C. J." I hear him twist around to look at the clock on his wall, even though he wears a perfectly good Rolex around his wrist. It's an incredulity thing.

"Claudia Jean, where are you? We have staff in thirty minutes and as far as I know you're not here yet."

"I'm sorry, Leo, but there's no way I could possibly come in today. I'm sneezing, sniffling, my nose is either stuffed or runny; it has yet to decide, and my head feels like it weighs more than you do."

"How would you know how much I weigh?" I shrug, though I know he can't see me.

"I'm guessing, but if my head's any indication, one word: SLIMFAST, my friend. It's the only way."

"Ha ha, I almost forgot how funny you were. Anyway, I'll see if I can get Josh to cover for you." I almost choke on my newly swallowed orange juice. Not Josh; anyone, but Josh. I look for somewhere to dump the excess juice dribbling out of the side of my mouth. I lean over the sink and spit it out.

"Josh, Josh!? What the hell are you…? Are you serious? No, Leo, are you crazy? Josh! You can't possibly mean Joshua "A Secret Plan to Fight Inflation" Lyman? I mean, Leo, come on. This is radical, even for you." Leo's getting either too amused for his own good or annoyed. Is there really much of a major distinction?

"Well, what else am I supposed to do, C. J.? My Press Secretary is out sick. It's Josh or--"

"Henry. What about Henry? He's my deputy. This is his job."

"Yeah, I thought you knew." I close my eyes and let my head fall back. I never know until everyone else has known for a while.

" Knew what, Leopold?" I try not to be disgusted or to sound that way. I don't think I'm too successful, though. Ah, well. You win some, you lose some.

"He quit back before the third State of the Union. He jumped on a train with Will's speech-writing staff and headed to California to work with Sam."

"And I didn't need to know this before?" No, of course I didn't. Do I ever need to know anything? I'm in luck if they'd tell me my own name if I asked.

"I assumed that Will told you?"

" You mean very temporary Seaborn replacement, Will Bailey, who wasn't there long enough to break in his new Armani suit?"

"Yah, that's the one."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Nope, he didn't mention it."

"Oh."

"Oh, my ass, Leo. He was barely past the Holy Line of Demarcation for more than three months before he was moved so far away couldn't even see the line anymore. I'm pretty sure, he thinks we've moved the White House to Dayton." Leo's laughing at me. Cute Leo, real cute. "I'm not kidding, Leo. He's that far away." He's really laughing up a storm there. He's kind of got a cute laugh, but anyway.

His laughter finally subsides. "But really, CJ, you're needed here. I know you're sick, but if at any point today you can get here, please get here." Leo stops talking and I can hear Margaret in the background. Leo's back on. "CJ, you need to get here, please. You are needed now. And I mean needed."

"Okay, we'll see what bunnies I can pull out of my hat." *ACHOO* Yeah, that felt great. Where do I think I'm going today?

"And CJ, you should probably take something for that. You sound terrible."

"You really know how to charm a woman early in the morning." Coming a little late to the party there, Leo. But, as Sam said, "Let's ignore the fact that you're coming a little late to the party and embrace the fact that you showed up at all." I'm embracing, Leo. Embracing.

"So, I've been told. Quite often, for future reference." Did I really need to know that? I don't think I did.

"Thanks for that privileged information, Leopold. I was dying to know that. Really, I was."

"See, Claudia Jean, I told you I could read your mind. I know what women want."

"All right, Mel Gibson, I need to do a thing be done and then, we'll just see about my getting there later. Much later, if at all. And quit, you know, telling random people things they aren't all that interested in knowing."

"Hey--!"

"Ah, I gotta do the thing. Bye, Leo." I hang up before he can say anything else.

How long did that go on for? I look to the clock. Ugh! A half of an hour. A half an hour? Where's Josh?

"Hey, babe? You done yet?" There's no answer. "Babe?" I move back to the hall and call out again. "Joshua, baby?" I take two strides down the hall and lean into the door. I finally regain my lost breath. There he is.

Josh is laying on his bed with his back to the door. The subtle compressive movements of his tiny body tell me he's already asleep. He didn't even manage to get all the way out of his clothes. He's got on a pajama top, but he's still wearing his uniform slacks for school. I just shake my head. I'll have to iron them for tomorrow.

"Josh, babe. You gotta get outta the pants. " All he does is mumble. I look around for some way to get them off without waking the munchkin and find it quickly impossible. Looking at him again, I decide that there are other pants he can wear tomorrow. Besides, he's probably going to have to get up in a little bit, anyway. The least I can do is let him have this little bit of time to rest. With a kiss on the forehead, I head for the shower. I have to get ready for work…It looks like I'm going after all. Now, what do I do with Joshua?…This is not how I intended for this to come out.

~~~~~~

After a nice, leisurely shower, I start to dress in the everyday so-and-so, but decide to go a bit out. I pull out a black, pinstriped Armani suit, that I bought on a whim, and slip it on after applying a spray of "White Shoulders" here and there. What? I'm coming in on a sick day, with my sick child…Who should be staying home, like I intended. I'm wearing whatever the hell makes me feel better, which quite frankly happens to be, what I had on before.

After sitting for a bagel and a glass of orange juice and making some waffles for Josh, it's time for aforementioned child to make his way out of bed. We have to go to the White House…Sometimes, I hate my job. I really do. Once, I've stalled as long as I think I can, I move down the hall and into the room. I sigh. I hate having to get him out of bed, but there's simply no one else.

I lean over and gently shake his pajama'd shoulder and wait for him to stop groaning. I'm so going to be making this up to him over the weekend. Maybe, I can take him to see Dad. Even with…the thing, he and Dad are inseparable when they get together. He always remembers Josh and when he remembers Josh, he remembers me. Anyway, after the grumbling's stopped, I give an apologetic look.

"We have to go in to my job for a bit…I don't know for how long, but we really do need to go. I know I said we could stay home and I really thought we could, but…we can't." He looks up at me with those eyes. He doesn't want to go, but he feels too bad to fight about it. Am I supposed to feel like I'm a terrible mother, because that's exactly how I feel?

"Okay." He sighs a tiny sigh and pushes up off the bed. He goes back to his drawer and rummages around for something to wear.

"You don't have to wear your school uniform to the White House. You can wear whatever…within reason." I don't often have to remind him what 'within reason' is, but sometimes…Boys will be boys.

When I see that he's got the dressing under control, I move back to the living room to get my purse and unplug my cell. As I move past the end table by the couch, the blinky light on my answering machine catches my eye. Great, I'm not even out the door yet and I've already got messages. I push the 'play' button.

"You have three messages." Three? Since when? I just talked to Leo maybe forty-five minutes ago…Who the hell…?

"Hey, CJ. It's Sam. Yeah, there's…a thing. I know you're probably not even awake, seeing as I've called you five times and have to yet to get an answer, but anyway…There's a thing and we need you here…Please get here. Okay…bye." !Beep! It's just a beep with Sam.

"Hey, CJ. It's Toby. As I'm sure you know, there's…a thing. Yeah, a thing and we need you, so if you could, you know, get here; that'd be nice. Get here. Please, if it makes you feel better." !Beep! Man, even his beep is depressing.

"Hello, CJ. It's the President. As I'm sure you've been told by now, there's a bit of a…situation here. Claudia Jean, we have a problem. You're the one we need, right here. Get here as soon as you can. Thanks, see you when you get here." !Beep! and that's one hell of a beep.

Okay, I need to get to work. I get this. Do I need any further proof? *RING RING* I contemplate answering, but decide to just let it go to the machine.

"CJ, get your ass here! Now!" Well, I didn't need any, but I got it. Since when does the President say 'ass'?

It's time for 'babe' to get out of bed, now! I put down my cell and purse and take a few strides to the end of the hall.

"Hey, babe, I need you to double-time it. We need to go. Hurry, please." I hear a whole lot more grumbling…and a thud. I wince, sympathetically. He was hopping around, trying to get into his jeans and stubbed his toe on the bedpost. Like the President said, " I shouldn't do things when I'm angry." Neither should Josh.

My mother's instinct wins out and I go to the door. He's sitting on the bed rubbing his big toe that I can all, but see throbbing from the doorway. He's biting his bottom lip and his green eyes are shining. It must hurt pretty bad, if he's close to crying. I move over and crouch down in front of him. I gently take his little foot in my hand and give it a look-see. His toe is pretty badly cut. Just under the nail; from there to the middle of the toe. I hiss and look up at that melancholy countenance. He can really do damage to himself, can't he?

"Stay here." Like he's going somewhere. "I'll get some stuff for that." I leave and go to the bathroom. I've been spending a lot of time in there lately.

Coming back to the room, I sit next Josh and help him turn around to rest his leg on my lap. Very carefully, I pour a little alcohol on the cut and hold his leg steady as it spasms from the burning.

"Sorry, babe. I know it hurts, but I gotta do it." He sits there with his eyes closed. He's breathing's a little iffy. "Take a minute…Ya got it?" He opens his eyes and nods. I think I've well taught him the reality of necessary evils.

I pour a little more on it, and this time take his hand when he whimpers. I hate it when he hurts. I mean, I know any mother hates it when her child hurts, but I really hate it.

When I'm sure he's caught his breath, I tear open the Ninja Turtles band-aid I brought and wrap it gently around the big toe. I look up from the delicate procedure to see him sitting there with his eyes squeezed shut in silent torment. He really doesn't like blood or wounds. Well, I know he won't be a surgeon. That's one wish gone ungranted.

I give my watch an absent glance. We need to be out of the door already. I press a hand to his cheek to get him to look at me. He's still warm. Great, he's still got a fever. He so does not need to be out there. He presses a hand to my cheek. I know, I know. I don't either. I give the foot another glance.

"Can you walk on that foot?" He shrugs. My son is the prince of non-answers. I, of course, am the queen though. It's only natural. "Can you try for me?" He gives a little nod. With a little help from me, he hops down onto his good foot. With a pensive glance at me, he puts his other foot down and takes a few cautious steps, keeping a firm hold on me the whole way. At first, all goes well until the fourth step back. He pulls his foot up with a hiss and a 'mommy.'

Okay, that's out. I pick him up and sit him back on the bed. It looks like I'm carrying him, which is fine, if we can get out of here right now.

"Okay, put your socks on…I'll carry you to the car. But, babe we gotta go now." He nods and starts with the other foot. I wait by the door and do a mental inventory of the things I'll need to keep him occupied for the remainder of the day. Snacks. Gameboy. A blanket and a pillow in case he wants a nap. Yeah, he'll reallywant a nap. Just in case he falls asleep. There are blankets in my office already…Books for when I need him to be quiet. "Babe, where's your backpack?" He points to the back of his desk chair. I pick it up and open it. I take a look inside and it already has some paper and colors in it. I need to get the other stuff. "Where's your Gameboy?" He looks around before pointing to the top of his dresser. Ah, of course, why didn't I see that? I grab it and stick it inside. "What games do you want?" He shrugs. I just pick three at random and put them in the front compartment of the pack. "What snacks do you want to take with you?" He gives it some thought.

"Gwapemelon jello…and some chewy bars." I suspected the jello. This obsession with jello is a little worrying.

"What do you want to drink?"

"Fwuit punch." Fruit punch it is then.

"Be right back." I head out and back to the kitchen to get the requested snacks.

I come back in and lean against the desk while he works on getting the left shoe on. He's wincing the whole way.

"Don't worry about the shoes for now…We'll take care of those later. What books do you want?" He gives it a bit of consideration. I give him a moment. He's no slouch in the reading department. Who knows what he'll come up with?

"I want 'The Runaways' and 'The Dark Stairs,' please." I nod and smile. I'm almost surprised he didn't say Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Like I said, he's no slouch.

Getting the indicated books, I'm set to go. Now, I'm just waiting for him.

"I'm ready."

"'Kay. " I walk over and put my arms out. He wraps his arms around me and away we go.

Damn. I almost forgot my keys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a little difficulty getting past security, we're here. Josh is asleep in my arms; he hasn't woken up since I got him out of the car. I think that second dose of medicine I gave him has started to kick in.

His head is resting in the crook of my shoulder; his arms hanging loosely around my neck. He trusts in me enough not to drop him. I can tell by the elevation of activity in the bullpen that briefing has either already started or is about to start. I need to get in there…But what to do with Josh? I see Carol.

"Carol? Carol, get over here." Carol looks up from her task and sees me. She's up in seconds and headed my way.

"CJ, where've you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on while you were out?" I shake my head. I need her not talking.

"No, no idea. Look, I need to be filled in quickly so that I can do the briefing. Here, take Josh and put him in my office. There's a pillow in the backpack and an afghan on the couch. Cover him with it. Put the trashcan next to him, in case he gets sick. There are some snacks in his bag, in case he gets hungry. There are crackers in the front. Even if he isn't hungry, have him eat those or at least, try to. That's it, now, where do I need to be?" I just handed Josh to Carol and her eyes are wide and she looks confused. " Okay, Carol, I need you to dig in…Where do I need to be?" She blinks and shakes her head.

"Leo's office. The whole Senior Staff's there." I nod, and after turning back to give Josh a kiss and to ruffle his hair, I take off for Leo's office.

I knock and hear a "come in." I stick my head in a bit before coming all the way in. Carol was right. They're all here. Sam, who just came back , and Josh are sitting on either side of the round table. Donna's leaning against the wall by the door. Toby, with his normal gloom included, is standing just to the right of the Leo's desk, by the connecting door to the Oval Office.

"CJ, glad that you could find time in your busy schedule to join us." I really want to whack Toby upside the head, but I fear the harbingers of his doomdom would whack back at me. I think I'm severely outnumbered anyway, so I just send him an unimpressed glare. Jackass.

"Leave her alone, Toby. We should be glad that she showed up at all. She was sick this morning. Was ready to call in and everything. You should be thanking her and you will be. Just not right now. CJ, have a seat." I look around. There's no where to sit. Leo notices. " Josh, get up and let CJ have your seat."

"What? Why?"

"Because, she's sick, I'm your boss, and I said so." Josh does a great fish impression. If I felt better, I'm sure I'd laugh.

Josh, mumbling the whole way, relinquishes his seat and I sit down.

"Where am I supposed to sit, now." Hey, there's a couch behind the Tobygloom. How about there?

"How about the couch, Joshua?" He hee, Sarcastic Leo is funny.

"I thought that was just for the people you liked." Way to single yourself out there, Josh.

"You're right, I forgot. CJ, sit over here. Josh can have his seat back." I get up and plop down on the couch. I like this seat much better.

After we're all settled again, we start.

"What's been happening while I've been gone?" They all give me long-suffering looks. Hey, I don't know. Someone's got to tell me.

"Well, it all started with a press conference the President held right after he took office the first time around." I nod to show I follow. " He said that he wouldn't be here if it wasn't for his girls. His wife and his four daughters." I blink. There was something there. I can tell, but I'm pretty groggy. They're going to have to spell this out for me. "Four daughters, CJ. There are only three to my knowledge. Three: Liz, Ellie, and Zoey. So we need to know…Was it a slip of the tongue…or a Freudian slip?"

God, I should've stayed in bed this morning. But, no I'm out of bed, sick as hell, and stuck with this…Mr. President, what have you done, now?

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