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See disclaimers in part 1 Rumours (4/8) "No, not Caroline." Toby groaned, wanting to put his head down on his desk. "Why not?" "She whines." "So do you," Ginger replied, with a sigh. "Toby, you have to pick somebody. I need to call by the end of the week. I am not letting anybody come into this job cold. Make up your mind and live with it." "You're being insubordinate, Ginger," Toby reminded her, with a growl. "Growl all you want, but you still have to pick my replacement. What about Oliver?" "No." "What's wrong with Oliver?" "He doesn't listen." "He would if you'd talk louder." "You complain when I shout." "Toby, just pick somebody. At the rate you're going, I'll be in labour before you make up your mind." "Okay, okay." Toby sighed heavily. "Heather. She's the least objectionable of the bunch. When are you coming back again?" "In September," Ginger told him for the tenth time. "Are you sure you'll be okay to work by then?" Toby asked, in a very different tone. "I should be fine." "This isn't easy on you, Ginger," he said softly. "You are going to need time to grieve." "I think keeping busy will help," she replied. "Is your mother or are any of your sisters coming to help you out?" "No." "Why not?" "I haven't told them." "Ginger, you shouldn't be doing this alone." "I'm not alone. I have my friends, and everybody here, and you..." Ginger looked away. "I don't need to deal with my family along with everything else. I'll be fine." -------------------- CJ felt like wrapping her arms around somebody's neck and strangling them. Specifically a certain woman with bad hair and a worse attitude. If she wasn't within arms length, CJ was perfectly willing to substitute a red headed reporter that was currently following her around. Danny had been keeping a low profile for the last while, ever since the promotion that wasn't. Now he was back, turning up like the proverbial bad penny. "Danny, would you go away before I throttle you?" "Sure," Danny said easily. "Just give me a thirty second warning, okay?" "Danny." "CJ, it's going to blow up if you don't do something," Danny wheedled. "Just tell me that the rumours aren't true and I'll go away and write something to make Mary Marsh look stupid." "You don't need to write anything to make Mary look stupid. She does that all by herself." "Granted." Danny nodded. "Still, it would help if I got an official denial." "We do not comment on the personal lives of the staff." "An unofficial one?" Danny asked hopefully. "If you want the story, go to the players in it. Ask Ginger." "I don't want to upset her. I'm not heartless, you know." "Just relentless. Ask Toby, then." "I'm not suicidal, either." "Sure you are. You're still annoying me. Shoo. Go somewhere else with your innuendo and gossip. Go write a real story with substance and meaning." "You really think I should just walk into Toby's office and ask him flat out?" "Yes. I'll even help him hide your skinny little body so no one ever finds it." "You would?" Danny sounded hurt. "Sure. Friend help friends move. Good friends help move bodies," CJ said, pushing him out the door. "Go." -------------------- Danny allowed himself to be pushed out of CJ's office. Pausing, he turned toward Toby's office, looking into the open door. Toby was pacing and dictating to Ginger. Ginger was sitting on the visitor's chair, taking notes, balancing her notebook on her enormous belly. He watched them for a moment, then threw his hands in the air, walking away. It was a nothing story. Mary Marsh and her band of uptight followers were making mountains out of molehills. And, even if the rumours were true, so what? Things like this happened. Both parties were adults, presumably consenting, and seemed to be dealing with it in a responsible manner. The impropriety of a guy sleeping with his assistant didn't bother him as much as it should, maybe because he knew both parties involved. Toby, for all his faults, wasn't the kind of guy to use his position to get laid. And the evidence that he had was pretty damn thin. His assistant was pregnant and there was no guy in sight. He had helped her make arrangements for the adoption. That was it. It was a nothing story. Even Mary Marsh wasn't willing to actually accuse Toby of sleeping with his assistant without more proof than that. Danny had wanted to know mostly because of CJ. He never really understood her friendship with Toby, and he never entirely got rid of the small bit of jealousy he felt toward the older man. CJ used their respective positions as the primary reason she couldn't date him, but he always felt there was something more to it than that. He suspected it had something to do with the dour Communications Director. If said Communications Director was with someone else, maybe CJ would turn to him. It was a long shot, but seeing Toby Ziegler involved with a woman other than CJ soothed the jealousy. It was one more obstacle out of the way. -------------------- Ginger tried to find a comfortable position to lie down. She couldn't sleep on her back, since it made the slight heartburn worse. Sleeping on her side made her legs cramp. Maybe sleeping standing up would work, she thought as she slowly shifted. She wanted this all to be over. Everyone was kind, but she felt as if her life was on hold. Everything revolved around this small being growing inside her. She was deeply ambivalent about the baby. Sometimes she dreamed of holding him or her in her arms, revelling in the soft sweetness. Sometimes she resented it. Sometimes she was afraid to even think of it. She did not want to get attached to a child that she wasn't keeping, yet she felt like the worst bitch in the world for not getting sentimental about it. Mostly, she was afraid. She knew that it was going to hurt to give birth. The pain scared her, but so did the knowledge that she was going through this alone. And the relinquishment was going to hurt. Right now, that part had an unreal tinge to it. It was astonishing to her, despite the bulk, that she was having a baby. The baby chose that moment to roll over in the womb, pressing on her bladder. She hauled herself up and went into the bathroom. The sight in the mirror wasn't her. Who was this woman with the grotesquely swollen belly, and the round face? Who was this woman with fear in her eyes? -------------------- Toby was still up reading when the phone rang. He glanced at the clock and felt a rush of anxiety. It was nearly two; what had happened at the White House? "Yes?" He picked up the phone and put the book down. "Toby?" It was Ginger. "You okay?" "Yes and no. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called..." "What's the matter?" "I... This is going to sound really stupid..." Ginger said. "It can't be any worse than what Devlin said this afternoon about the electricity crisis in California," Toby said, shifting to a more comfortable position on the sofa. "I... just needed to talk to somebody." Ginger sounded scared. "Somebody sensible." "About what?" "Names." "Names?" "I haven't picked out any names yet." "You called me to tell me that?" "Well... I told you it was stupid." "Considering that the adoptive parents will change it, yeah." "I still have to put a name on the birth certificate." "Yes, you do." Toby sighed. "Any suggestions?" Toby bit back the first, automatic response. He did have a suggestion or two about the whole topic, but they were not kind, helpful or even fit to be said in mixed company. He forced back annoyance. Ginger was, he suddenly realised, scared, and needed to talk to someone about nothing in particular. Why she chose to call him, other than the fact that he was one of the few people she knew would be awake at this hour, was a mystery to him, but she had. "Jewish tradition names a child after the last person in the family who died," he offered. "Who was the last person who died in your family?" "Aunt Prunella," Ginger said, with a wry note to her voice. "I don't care if the kid never uses it. I am not naming a kid Prunella." "What about the father's side?" "I don't know," Ginger said, rather resentfully. "Brian didn't talk much about his family." "You could name the kid Brian or Bryony." "I don't think so," Ginger said decidedly. "If you had kids, what names would you use?" "For a boy, Andrew, and nicknamed Drew," Toby said, after a moment of searching through old, painful memories. He and Andrea had long discussions about it, back when a family was a possibility. "And for a girl?" "Tova." "That's pretty." "It's the feminine version of my name. Andy and I agreed to name our hypothetical children after each other, cross gender." "You didn't want to follow tradition?" Ginger sounded surprised. "None of Andy's kids would be Jewish, so there was no point. Besides, Zipporah or Zekariah Ziegler would have been a bit much for a kid to live up to," Toby replied lightly. "What names do you like?" "I have a few names I thought about, but it doesn't seem right to use them." Ginger sounded lost, and scared. "May I... use your names? Andrew and Tova are nice names and, well, you've been so good to me..." Toby felt incredibly flattered. He had pretty much given up on having any children and, even if it did happen at some later date, he did not want to use those names. They belonged to Andrea and the life he thought he had with her. In an odd sort of way, this would give him a namesake. "Since I'm not using them, you may as well," he said offhandedly, the unusual warmth in his voice softening the words. "Thank you," Ginger replied. "I guess I should let you get some sleep." "Goodnight, Ginger. Glad I could be of some use." To be continued in part 5. --
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