The god of writing known as Aaron Sorkin, and his cohorts at Warner Bros. and NBC own the characters. I'm just taking them out for a spin in a rented limo.

This is pure goofiness, plain and simple. It shouldn't even qualify as good fic, because just about every cliché, bad word, etc., is included. Just read and laugh (or cry), and I shalt be happy. ;-)

Mucho gracias to AJ for all of her help in this. This fic wouldn't be here without her!

Category: Pick one - it could fit under general, romance, angst, or humor 

Rating: R for language and sexuality 

Spoilers: minor "Let Bartlet Be Bartlet" references 

Pairings: Jed/Abbey Archive: Yes, if you have to. But ask permission first! 

Feedback: To or on the lists. 

Summary: The White House goes to hell in a handbasket, starting with the plumbing.


"Nucking Futs" 

by Rebecca A. Anderson 

October 2000


Abbey woke up in the hotel room the next morning, still unsure as to what exactly had transpired the day before. She had slept almost 24 hours, she realized as she looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. She groaned and rolled over to face her husband, who looked as exhausted as she felt, but who was propped up on the pillows, working on the dispatches for the day already -- albeit in his pajamas.

"Hey sleeping beauty." Jed looked up at his wife.

"Hey yourself, my handsome prince." Abbey replied.

"I had despaired of you ever waking up," he grinned, leaning down to kiss her.

"Me, too, apparently," Abbey quipped. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Nothing that can't be cleared."

"Why, Mr. President, isn't that a tad bit irresponsible?" she teased, curling up against his side like a cat.

"I wouldn't exactly call it irresponsible." Jed replied, wrapping his arms around Abbey.

"What would you call it?" she challenged with a wicked grin.

"A vacation."

"That works," she purred, reaching up under his tacky grey t-shirt that had "GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY" plastered all over the front -- a present from Zoey to announce where she would be attending college. "But I think you're a little overdressed for the occasion," she whispered.

"There's a dress code?"

"Yes, there is."

"And what would it be?" Jed grinned.

"Suits," Abbey quipped. "*Birthday* suits."

"That's my kind of vacation." Jed replied, tossing all the papers that were by his side off the bed.

"Someone's gonna get you for that," she scolded with a smile.

"Let's see if I give a damn," Jed laughed, pulling his wife into his arms and kissing her thoroughly.

Like always, right when they were getting to the fun part, there was a knock at the door. "Go away." Jed shouted.

"Josiah Thomas, that's no way to speak to your mother. Now let me in."

"OH SHIT!" Abbey yelped, slithering to the floor to grab her nightie and slip it over her head. "I'll be in the bathroom," she hissed. "Being sick," she added as an afterthought, racing for the bathroom.

"Oh Lord, if you've ever heard my prayers before, *please* make my mother go away for a while," Jed whispered, crossing himself. He threw on his bathrobe and went to the door. "Mother, how are you?" he asked as Katherine blew into the room.

"I'd be a lot better if you would have come to pick me up from the airport."

"I would have, *if* I'd have known you were coming today," Jed said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man. You may be the President of the United States, but I am still your mother." Katherine snapped, catching the annoyance that found it's way to Jed's voice. Looking around the room, she asked, "Where's Abbey?"

"How should I know?" Jed inquired snidely, trying to buy his wife some time before facing her mother-in-law.

"She *is* your wife," Katherine snapped icily.

"Yes, she is." Jed answered.

"So where is she?" Katherine pressed.

"She's sick right now."

"What do you mean sick?"

"Sick. Throwing up. Vomiting. You know the thing, I would assume, since you are so fond of telling me how much of the time you spent hovered over the sink when you were pregnant with me," Jed commented dryly.

"Josiah, I kindly ask you to stop using that tone of voice with me. Next time I will not ask so kindly. You got that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Abbey emerged from the bathroom at that moment, cooing, "False alarm, pumpkin."

"Hello Abigail." Katherine smiled.

"Hello, Katherine," Abbey greeted warmly, though she really felt no warmth at all to the woman, excluding the fact that she was her husband's mother.

"It's nice to see you again."

"Yes, it is," Abbey conceded. Oh well, if nothing else, Zoey would be able to spend some time with her favorite grandmother.

"You look cold without a robe, dear. Don't you think you ought to put one on?" Katherine said with a hint of disapproval in her tone as she looked at Abbey's rather short silk nightie.

"No, I'm just fine. Thank you anyway." Abbey said, tightening her lips as she gave Jed a glance.

"Mother, why don't you go and make yourself comfortable in the sitting room, while Abbey and I get dressed?" Jed suggested.

"But I was just out there!" Katherine protested.

"And now you can go out there again." Abbey replied.

"Abigail!" Kathrine gasped.

"Sorry -- I don't like an audience while I'm getting dressed," Abbey retorted firmly.

"Mother, please," Jed begged.

"Fine. Just tell me Zoey's phone number so I can have someone to talk to while I wait, and I'll go."

"(555) 555-5555, ext. 555," Abbey rattled off, crossing her arms over her chest. "Even you can't dial it wrong," she said sarcastically. "Gina will pick up first to clear the line," she warned.

"Thank you, dear." Katherine said, exiting the room.



Nucking Futs - 7




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