Chapter Text
CJ/Abbey and Leo have spent a night together in the guest room of the white house and the morning after they invited a bristling Jed to join them. They are not sure if he'll accept the offer.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When CJ got to work eventually that day, life seemed to have taken on a different color. She smiled more, glowing with a new internal light and welcomed chitchat and easy bantering throughout the afternoon.
She had trouble concentrating on her work and was plagued by vivid flashbacks of her nightly encounter with Abbey and Leo. They brought heated flushes to her cheeks, distracted her, slowing down her work pace.
Her body felt differently too. Charged in an odd new way, CJ now noticed how often her upper arms would come in contact with her breasts in everyday actions. Pulling a file out of a drawer or picking up a coffee mug on her left side with her right hand, had become a nice sensation. So she sometimes did it on purpose, always in quasi-casual movements, and felt good.
She distracted her visitors, by emanating a sensuality that seeped through her skin and seemed to be picked up instantly by most of her male guests, who went out of their way to compliment her, help her, smiling at her in new ways.
She gave off uncountable nearly undetectable signals that sex was on her mind and that she planned to indulge herself before the day was over. Since that was the way she handled the 3 o'clock sit room meeting too, she left the joint chiefs mesmerized as well.
The women in the bullpen commented on her sunny disposition, unaware of the sensual depth her new aura, but CJ noted that Debbie Fidderer and Nancy McNally reacted in concert with the men, and lingered when they could have left, and would have left before.
Margaret, of course, thought that CJ's fine mood was all due to her implementation of plan B and was proud and happy.
-.-.-
And then, when CJ finally had regained the proper composure for her work, Abigail Bartlet dropped by.
"You can't go in there, Mrs. Bartlet," CJ heard Margaret's voice.
"Oh, I don't know, Margaret, it's just a short visit." The sound of the First Lady's persuasive alto brought CJ's hand to her lips, still feeling Abbey’s kisses linger there from the night before. It unexpectedly constricted her chest.
"Perhaps I can relay the message," Margaret said.
"I don't think you can in this case, dear." CJ heard the balmy innuendo in Abbey's voice and hoped her secretary did not. "It won't take a minute."
Margaret must have waved Abbey through, because when CJ looked up in the sudden silence, the First Lady leaned gracefully in the doorframe, studying her closely, as if she was trying to gauge if last night's bonding had survived the visit her bristling husband had paid her new lovers.
When their eyes met, CJ saw that under her normal impervious front, Abbey managed to look vulnerable, possessive and gloriously sexy all at the same time. CJ decided that she liked it and flashed her a warm conspiratorial grin.
Abbey's gaze softened and her eyes glowed for just a second before she smiled rapaciously. Then she turned and left.
"That was a message?" Margaret asked CJ.
"Yeah."
"But she didn't say anything."
"Oh, but she did."