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 BeckyAnneA@aol.com or on the lists.
Summary: The White House goes to hell in a handbasket, starting with the plumbing.
by Rebecca A. Anderson
Abbey looked out the window of her private jet, watching Dulles airport streak away behind her. She had always been the rational one, had always said "never do anything when you're angry". And yet, she never could swallow her own bitter pill of advice.
"Ma'am." an agent spoke up. "The President is on the phone."
"Tell him to screw himself," Abbey replied, settling in for the twelve hour flight to London.
The agent left for a brief moment and then returned. "He says he'll see you in the morning, that where you go, he goes."
"Not in this lifetime," she muttered, shooing the agent away.
As soon as she was alone, Abbey rested her hands on her stomach, "Hey little one," She began speaking to her baby.
The baby kicked as if in reply, and Abbey whispered, "I know, I know.... Daddy and I are both first-rate jackasses, aren't we?"
Abbey smiled, "But don't you worry your pretty little head, Josiah Junior. We'll be back in love by the time you're born."
Suddenly, she realized what she had just said and groaned. "See? Even *he* almost has me *believing* it!"
Abbey rubbed her stomach even more, "I'm such a fool, kid. You're mother's a fool. Why did I have to get in a fight with Daddy? Why'd I have to leave him?"
"Dr. Bartlet, can I get you something to drink?" the SS agent asked as he came back by.
"No, no.... I'm okay for now," Abbey said with a weak smile. Once he'd passed by, she felt tears starting to slide down her cheeks. "Why are we both so stubborn, honey? God, I hope you don't get that double-dose from the both of us like Lizzie and Zoey did..." With that, Abbey fell asleep.
Abbey was jerked awake as the jet hit the runway at Heathrow, and she sighed as she shifted her weight in the plane seat. Abbey sighed and sat back in her seat until the pilot announced that she could get off "I hate planes," she mumbled. When she stepped off the plane, she moved straight to the limo that was waiting for her. Closing her eyes, she climbed in, not even realizing that her husband was in there.
"Hi," Jed grinned.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Abbey shrieked, jumping up and hitting her head on the ceiling. "How did you...?"
"Air Force One doesn't need to stop at the Canary Islands for refueling," he explained sweetly.
"Get out of my car," Abbey ordered.
"Yes. I want to go visit my parents. You were not invited. Get out of my car, damnit."
"Not until we kiss and make up."
"Then I'll leave," Abbey said, motioning for the driver to pull to the curb. She climbed out of the limo and sauntered off to flag down a taxi. Jed had just realized what she was doing when she had just climbed into the cab and was already pulling away from the curb again.
"So much for the SS," he grumbled. He leaned forward and said, "Follow that cab!"
Abbey knew without looking that Jed was following her. "Turn left at the next exit," she ordered. She was going to give him a run for his money -- especially since her parents had moved in the last year, and Jed didn't know where they were now.
At least, she *thought* he didn't know.
They lost Jed's limo pretty quickly in the traffic of lunchtime London, and then were able to get back on track, headed for the mansion at 12 Groveners Square where Abbey's parents lived.
"Momma, Poppa!" Abbey exclaimed at the sight of her parents.
"Abigail, darling!!!" Denise and Richard called as they rushed outside. "We were so worried!"
"Well, because Jed said you were tearing around London like a maniac, of course!" Denise said, hugging her daughter. "And in your condition, too! Really, Abbey, I would have expected more from you!"
"You talked to Jed?"
"Yes, of course, dear heart. He's in the den, taking tea -- strong tea. *With* whiskey," Denise said, leading her daughter towards the door.
"Then I'm going to other way," Abbey said, ducking adeptly under her mother's arm and heading back for the cab.
"No you aren't, young lady." Her father said sternly, standing in the doorway.
"I am not a 'young lady'. I can make my own decisions -- I am not a child anymore, Daddy," Abbey growled. "I do not want to talk to *HIM*. That's why I flew out here in the goddamn first place!"
"Don't you dare speak to me like that, I am your father!"
"And you can go rot in hell for all I care, dammit!" Abbey shrieked. "I hate you!! I HATE YOU ALL!" she screamed before collapsing to the floor and sobbing like one heartbroken.
Jed came rushing out of the den and flew to her side immediately. Picking her up, he carried her over to the couch.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Abbey wailed, beating on him as he carried her.
"Damnit Abigail. Stop this now!"
"I will *NOT*!"
"Yes, you will. You're going to stop this, and stop it now. And you're going to go to sleep now too."
"I'M NOT TIRED!!!"
"I don't give a damn what you claim you are. I know you, and I know you're tired. Now, sleep!"
"No," Abbey said semi-calmly, finally realizing that childish temper tantrums would get her nowhere.
"God, do I look like a piece of fucking porcelain?" Abbey burst out angrily again.
Jed looked at her for a long moment before getting up and leaving. He threw his wedding ring at her before he left.
Abbey slumped against the wall, ignoring the gnawing pain in her heart as her husband, the only man she had ever loved, walked out on her forever. Only after he had gone, and her parents had left the foyer after having shot her accusatory glares, did she fall to her knees in search of the plain gold band Jed had worn since the day they had been married. She found it beneath the bottom stair, just out of reach, and her breath caught on a heart-wracking sob as she flailed in vain to reach it.
The baby decided then to kick her viscously in the ribs, leaving her doubled over and shrieking in agony as tears of pain mingled with tears of fear, grief and loss, streaming down her cheeks. It was then that she knew that life would never be the same.