Fandom:

The West Wing AU

Pairing:

C.J./Danny

Rating:

PG-13 for topic

Distribution:

How much do I owe you for hauling it off?

Spoilers:

Up to and including Full Disclosure, from which the series follows on

Email:

exfilia at livejournal dot com

Disclaimer:

if I owned them, they'd have a lot more fun

Warning:

mentions nonconsensual sex

Note:

Hoynes lovers should probably be hitting delete right about now.

Danny felt a presence behind him, and looked up to find dark eyes peering out over a bristling beard, glaring at the copy on his monitor.

"There is a school of thought according to which verbs are your friend."

"I've been writing for a living all my adult life, Toby."

"Verbless?"

"Verbosity is not in itself a good thing."

"'Schema of situational....' She's not going to be able to say that."

"She doesn't have to. This is a position paper."

"On which she will take questions?"

"Not on that part, because some idiot in the gaggle would have to be able to say 'schema of situational esc... esca....' In order to ask the question, they'd have to try to pronounce it, and they can't."

"Not bad."

"I do this for a living."

"You did this, in print. Give it to me when she's signed off, and I'll work some of it into the introduction for the West Coast trip."

"You're going to be involved in this?"

"She's my best friend."

"Yeah. I guess that means you're going to have to be an usher, huh?"

"I have a tux. I could ush."

"This tux: it's pink?"

"You've got seven minutes, sir, if we're going to be on the plane on time."

"When have we ever been on a plane on time, Leo? Seven minutes for what?"

"The DNC."

"Then we might make our flight, because I'm not going to give those jackasses seven seconds. What do they want now?"

"Further discussion of the presidential race."

"Leo...."

"Just do it, okay? Listen for a minute, and we'll start the rotors on Marine One and you can say you have to go. Just get in there and pretend to listen, okay?"

Leo opened the door between their offices and propelled the president through with a small shove between the shoulder blades. The party officials sprang to their feet.

"Tom, Allen, what can I do for you today?"

"Sir, we think we have a candidate."

"For what?"

"President."

"God help him."

"Yes, sir."

"Who?"

"You may know that the GOP is skewing way to the right in this."

"Yeah, they think we're off the floor. They're going to get fooled."

"Yes, sir. If we run even a centrist Democrat, he's going to look way too liberal against a radical Republican."

"How about we run a radical Democrat, and let there be some debate?"

"How about we run someone who has half a chance of winning?"

"Easy, Tom," said Allen. "Mr. President, we've identified a state representative in Arizona, a recently retired military officer that we'd like you to consider endorsing."

"Does he have a name?" asked the president.

"Stanley Willowby."

"The one who twice in one year has flirted with changing parties?"

"His politics are borderline, and his district...."

"Well," said the president, "he's a better choice than John Hoynes."

"So you'll...."

"I think it's too early for me to be making endorsements. I don't think we've seen all the candidates, yet. It's possible that we may find someone more attractive even than Stanley Willowby."

"More attractive?"

"Someone far more electable. Of course, that's just speculation on my part."

"Yes, sir." Allen looked nauseous. The president briefly considered pulling his chain a little more, but then he heard the blades of Marine One start to rotate.

"That's my ride, gentlemen," he said. "Please encourage Representative Willowby to run for higher office if he chooses to do so. I'm sure he'd bring a number of issues to the table that will lead to profitable debate. Just make sure he knows I'm not endorsing anyone yet, okay?"