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maidenjediTITLE: Redecorate the Farmhouse
AUTHOR: Maidenjedi
FANDOM: The West Wing
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Jed/Abbey, AU
SPOILERS: Through season 4
DISCLAIMER: Not my characters, my concept, or my show. Damn it.
ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just keep my name on it.
SUMMARY: Bob Ritchie wins the election. Jed and Abbey consider their future.
NOTE: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladybug218 in the Old School Ficathon 2008. Thank you to Katie C. for the beta!
The day after he lost the election was, of course, a Wednesday.
His usual Wednesday schedule included his daily briefing from the NSC and CIA, breakfast with Leo, a meeting with the Secretaries of Labor and Commerce (this was the meeting that always went the longest), and two separate meetings with various ambassadors or diplomats. He had been scheduled to do a round of television appearances, and of course a victory rally in New Hampshire.
He got up for his national security briefing and went through the motions, half-convinced that they were softening the news out of some misguided attempt to coddle him. He didn’t need coddling, damn it. He was still President of the United States.
At least until January 20.
He skipped the breakfast with Leo, and had Charlie rearrange his schedule (cancelling the secretaries’ meeting, pushing the ambassadors to next week).
Charlie didn’t tell him, the ambassadors had all already called to reschedule.
-
Abbey had expected to feel relief when she got the news about the election. Let the Republicans have the damned country, she’d thought. At least I can keep my husband at home and safe.
She tried very hard not to care when CNN showed Ritchie’s victory speech. She tried not to let tears well up in her eyes, or spill down her cheeks. She tried not to think of the years they’d spent building his career together, what it had cost to get him this far, and what it would now cost to see him fall.
Ellie and Zoey were still sleeping, and Liz had gotten up early to see her husband off at the airport. She would be back soon, Abbey thought, half-hoping there was a traffic delay.
She was now a former First Lady. That stung a hell of a lot more than it was supposed to have. She chafed at the thought of now having to do public appearances with her predecessors, most of whom were ten and fifteen years older than her and some who behaved like it was more like twenty or twenty-five. She counted back and thought there were maybe four of them. Five, now, when you counted Abbey Bartlett.
-
The residence was no more comforting than the Oval Office had been, but at least up here he could climb into bed if he wanted.
Not that he would. He was still President of the….
Yeah, yeah. Shut up already.
He wasn’t surprised to find Abbey in the living room, watching television. He came upon her watching rerun coverage of Ritchie’s acceptance speech, and when she heard his footsteps she changed the channel. Now Oprah was talking about her Christmas special plans and Abbey was sniffing quietly, pretending that Jed couldn’t hear her.
He played along and sat down next to her on the couch, picking up a weeks old issue of “Time” magazine that featured himself and Bob Ritchie on the cover. “Too Close to Call,” the headline screamed.
It had been. Right up until the end, too close to call. And around 1am on the east coast, with preliminary counts already in from Hawaii, the stations called it.
Jed had talked to Leo, and called Ritchie an hour later to concede.
At that point, Abbey had gone to bed, and most of the staff had stayed to find out what happened with Sam’s race in California. Jed reminded himself to find out himself and continued to stare blankly at the magazine in his hands.
Abbey leaned over, nudging his arms out of the way so she could put her head in his lap. Jed threw the magazine on the table and combed his fingers through Abbey’s hair.
They sat there on the couch, not talking, for nearly an hour before Charlie came in to let Jed know he was needed in the Oval.
-
That evening, Jed told Leo to tell everyone to go home early, which for most of them meant nine o’clock instead of the usual close-to-midnight. He met with CJ one last time to go over the media schedule for the next day, and then with Leo.
They played a game of chess half-heartedly, the zeal zapped from them both after a day of governing and knowing they didn’t have much time left in which to accomplish their many lofty goals. Though given to fits of idealism, they had spent four years making concessions and compromising to achieve small victories, and at the end of it they both felt they should have done it all differently.
“At least we got Mendoza,” Leo said, as he moved a pawn and took the last of Jed’s castles.
It wasn’t the final move; Jed managed to move a knight to threaten Leo’s king, leaving Leo vulnerable for a moment until he saw what Jed hadn’t. “Checkmate.”
Jed squinted and harrumphed, giving Leo credit somewhat begrudgingly. “We got Mendoza. You’re right. But what about everything we didn’t get, Leo? We didn’t get an education overhaul, we left the situation with Qumar in dire straits, we haven’t done a damned thing to improve health care. And now that pea-brain is taking over, along with a refreshed Republican congress that will serve as little more than a…”
“Checkbook for abstinence education and creationist textbooks. I know what you’re thinking, sir, and it doesn’t have to be like that. Ritchie’s not smart enough to keep Haffley and his gang from overrunning his policy initiatives, however slight they may be, but there are good Democrats left in the Senate and House who won’t let everything go south. Besides, in two years we can take back Congress and get the bandwagon moving for a Democrat in the White House again. It’s not over, sir.”
Jed slammed his fist down on the table, scattering chess pieces. He bit down on what he wanted to yell at Leo. It is over. It IS over, for me.
But Leo didn’t flinch and Jed saw how fruitless it would be. Leo just nodded and said, “It’s not easy to give up, or to accept what the voters have said. But it was close, sir, and it wasn’t a wash. We aren’t dead yet.”
Jed put his head in his hands.
Leo waited a moment and got up to pour them both glasses of water. Bringing one to Jed, he asked, “How’s Abbey taking it?”
Jed looked up and shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it. But I walked in on her crying earlier today.”
“Well then, sir, on that note, I’m calling it a night.” Leo put his glass down and went out the door into his office. Before closing the door, he looked back at Jed. “Maybe you should do the same, Mr. President.”
-
In the residence, Abbey was going over a list she’d made of things that needed to be accomplished before mid-January. She wanted to spend Christmas in New Hampshire and then stay there, out of the public eye where she could decompress and prepare for life as a private citizen once again. She still couldn’t practice medicine, but there were other ways she could continue making a difference, and she…
Jed had come into the room. She didn’t hear him, and her back was to the door, but his presence had changed the air, somehow.
They hadn’t talked about it yet. She looked at her list and felt a pang in her stomach; she’d been planning her life but not, well, their life.
What would Jed do now? His MS couldn’t be dismissed, and what kind of life could a defeated ex-president with a disability have, exactly?
She felt tears threaten again, and turned to him. He was standing in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe, looking for all the world like he had when they met. Only older, less steady, and far more in love.
“Hello.” She felt a little shy, unsure of what to say.
“Hi.” He was so casual. Abbey thought that, looking at him, you’d never know he’d just lost the biggest election an American can lose.
She got up and walked over to him, and he met her halfway. They embraced and held one another as though it had been years. Given everything that had happened in just the last year, let alone the last four, it felt like decades.
Jed buried his face in her hair and the tears that had threatened moments ago were back, flowing freely now.
“Abbey, I have some news. I lost the presidential election last night. And I don’t know how to handle myself now.”
She laughed over a sob. “I know. Jed, I love you.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “I know and I love you, too.” They held on for a moment longer, then separated and looked into each other’s faces.
“So how was your day?” he asked, a bit of humor coloring his voice for the first time in months.
Abbey responded in kind. “Oh, you know. A little cooking, a little cleaning. Saw the girls off. Started planning for my life as a former First Lady.”
“A lot of golf and charity events, I take it?”
“I was thinking of that, yes. Also planning to redecorate at the farm.”
“Spend all of my pension on curtains and throw pillows?”
“And fancy new cabinet doors, Jed.”
“Of course.”
Abbey smiled and kissed him, then sat down on the bed. She looked at him carefully and decided she could ask safely. “What about you? Any plans for the future?”
He sighed and looked his age for the first time since coming into the room. “Not yet. I’m still trying to accept it, Abbey. I haven’t lost an election since I ran for class president in the sixth grade. This is kind of hard to take.”
“The voters are finicky, you’ve always said so. And we knew this could happen, Jed. When you get down to it, this was partly why I didn’t want you to run. Granted, it was a very small part, but nevertheless. I didn’t want you to have to face this.”
“I knew it was a risk, yes. I’m amazed, frankly, that anyone could vote for such a vacant, waste of space like Ritchie.”
“Jed!”
He sighed again. “I can’t be honest, even here?”
“You can, but I’m surprised you aren’t using stronger language.”
Jed chuckled and joined her on the bed.
“It won’t really slow down until January, will it?”
“It will, some. I’m a lame duck now, and a chunk of Congress is, as well. We may find ourselves flatly bored some days. But it could still get interesting. I had a meeting this afternoon with Toby and Josh, and they think Congress could try and sneak a couple of things by us. Plus, now we have transition and all the goodbyes and…okay, no, it won’t really slow down.”
Abbey laughed and put her hand in his. “I didn’t think so.”
“So, seriously, what kind of planning have you been doing?”
“I want to go back to the farm at Christmas and stay there until the inauguration, start our own transition. I know you’ll have to be here, but I thought I’d go alone and keep away from the press and what have you.”
“CJ said something to Leo about the possibility of you writing a book. Seems there have been offers mentioned in the media.”
“You never know. I have a lot of time on my hands to plan for, Jed.”
He looked at their linked hands and leaned in to kiss her. “Yes, we both will.”
-
Later, they fell asleep in their clothes while chatting about their future, something they hadn’t done since before Liz was born.
On Thursday morning, Jed and Abbey went about their separate days, and when Abbey was asked in a morning talk show about the future, every knowing wife in the country could see that she was content.
And Jed, while in a meeting with Democrat Congressional leaders and a DNC hack who floated the idea of Jed running for governor once again, smiled at them all and answered every idea for his future with a vague “I’ll have to talk to my wife.”
---------
THE END
AUTHOR: Maidenjedi
FANDOM: The West Wing
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Jed/Abbey, AU
SPOILERS: Through season 4
DISCLAIMER: Not my characters, my concept, or my show. Damn it.
ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just keep my name on it.
SUMMARY: Bob Ritchie wins the election. Jed and Abbey consider their future.
NOTE: Written for
ladybug218 in the Old School Ficathon 2008. Thank you to Katie C. for the beta!The day after he lost the election was, of course, a Wednesday.
His usual Wednesday schedule included his daily briefing from the NSC and CIA, breakfast with Leo, a meeting with the Secretaries of Labor and Commerce (this was the meeting that always went the longest), and two separate meetings with various ambassadors or diplomats. He had been scheduled to do a round of television appearances, and of course a victory rally in New Hampshire.
He got up for his national security briefing and went through the motions, half-convinced that they were softening the news out of some misguided attempt to coddle him. He didn’t need coddling, damn it. He was still President of the United States.
At least until January 20.
He skipped the breakfast with Leo, and had Charlie rearrange his schedule (cancelling the secretaries’ meeting, pushing the ambassadors to next week).
Charlie didn’t tell him, the ambassadors had all already called to reschedule.
-
Abbey had expected to feel relief when she got the news about the election. Let the Republicans have the damned country, she’d thought. At least I can keep my husband at home and safe.
She tried very hard not to care when CNN showed Ritchie’s victory speech. She tried not to let tears well up in her eyes, or spill down her cheeks. She tried not to think of the years they’d spent building his career together, what it had cost to get him this far, and what it would now cost to see him fall.
Ellie and Zoey were still sleeping, and Liz had gotten up early to see her husband off at the airport. She would be back soon, Abbey thought, half-hoping there was a traffic delay.
She was now a former First Lady. That stung a hell of a lot more than it was supposed to have. She chafed at the thought of now having to do public appearances with her predecessors, most of whom were ten and fifteen years older than her and some who behaved like it was more like twenty or twenty-five. She counted back and thought there were maybe four of them. Five, now, when you counted Abbey Bartlett.
-
The residence was no more comforting than the Oval Office had been, but at least up here he could climb into bed if he wanted.
Not that he would. He was still President of the….
Yeah, yeah. Shut up already.
He wasn’t surprised to find Abbey in the living room, watching television. He came upon her watching rerun coverage of Ritchie’s acceptance speech, and when she heard his footsteps she changed the channel. Now Oprah was talking about her Christmas special plans and Abbey was sniffing quietly, pretending that Jed couldn’t hear her.
He played along and sat down next to her on the couch, picking up a weeks old issue of “Time” magazine that featured himself and Bob Ritchie on the cover. “Too Close to Call,” the headline screamed.
It had been. Right up until the end, too close to call. And around 1am on the east coast, with preliminary counts already in from Hawaii, the stations called it.
Jed had talked to Leo, and called Ritchie an hour later to concede.
At that point, Abbey had gone to bed, and most of the staff had stayed to find out what happened with Sam’s race in California. Jed reminded himself to find out himself and continued to stare blankly at the magazine in his hands.
Abbey leaned over, nudging his arms out of the way so she could put her head in his lap. Jed threw the magazine on the table and combed his fingers through Abbey’s hair.
They sat there on the couch, not talking, for nearly an hour before Charlie came in to let Jed know he was needed in the Oval.
-
That evening, Jed told Leo to tell everyone to go home early, which for most of them meant nine o’clock instead of the usual close-to-midnight. He met with CJ one last time to go over the media schedule for the next day, and then with Leo.
They played a game of chess half-heartedly, the zeal zapped from them both after a day of governing and knowing they didn’t have much time left in which to accomplish their many lofty goals. Though given to fits of idealism, they had spent four years making concessions and compromising to achieve small victories, and at the end of it they both felt they should have done it all differently.
“At least we got Mendoza,” Leo said, as he moved a pawn and took the last of Jed’s castles.
It wasn’t the final move; Jed managed to move a knight to threaten Leo’s king, leaving Leo vulnerable for a moment until he saw what Jed hadn’t. “Checkmate.”
Jed squinted and harrumphed, giving Leo credit somewhat begrudgingly. “We got Mendoza. You’re right. But what about everything we didn’t get, Leo? We didn’t get an education overhaul, we left the situation with Qumar in dire straits, we haven’t done a damned thing to improve health care. And now that pea-brain is taking over, along with a refreshed Republican congress that will serve as little more than a…”
“Checkbook for abstinence education and creationist textbooks. I know what you’re thinking, sir, and it doesn’t have to be like that. Ritchie’s not smart enough to keep Haffley and his gang from overrunning his policy initiatives, however slight they may be, but there are good Democrats left in the Senate and House who won’t let everything go south. Besides, in two years we can take back Congress and get the bandwagon moving for a Democrat in the White House again. It’s not over, sir.”
Jed slammed his fist down on the table, scattering chess pieces. He bit down on what he wanted to yell at Leo. It is over. It IS over, for me.
But Leo didn’t flinch and Jed saw how fruitless it would be. Leo just nodded and said, “It’s not easy to give up, or to accept what the voters have said. But it was close, sir, and it wasn’t a wash. We aren’t dead yet.”
Jed put his head in his hands.
Leo waited a moment and got up to pour them both glasses of water. Bringing one to Jed, he asked, “How’s Abbey taking it?”
Jed looked up and shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it. But I walked in on her crying earlier today.”
“Well then, sir, on that note, I’m calling it a night.” Leo put his glass down and went out the door into his office. Before closing the door, he looked back at Jed. “Maybe you should do the same, Mr. President.”
-
In the residence, Abbey was going over a list she’d made of things that needed to be accomplished before mid-January. She wanted to spend Christmas in New Hampshire and then stay there, out of the public eye where she could decompress and prepare for life as a private citizen once again. She still couldn’t practice medicine, but there were other ways she could continue making a difference, and she…
Jed had come into the room. She didn’t hear him, and her back was to the door, but his presence had changed the air, somehow.
They hadn’t talked about it yet. She looked at her list and felt a pang in her stomach; she’d been planning her life but not, well, their life.
What would Jed do now? His MS couldn’t be dismissed, and what kind of life could a defeated ex-president with a disability have, exactly?
She felt tears threaten again, and turned to him. He was standing in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe, looking for all the world like he had when they met. Only older, less steady, and far more in love.
“Hello.” She felt a little shy, unsure of what to say.
“Hi.” He was so casual. Abbey thought that, looking at him, you’d never know he’d just lost the biggest election an American can lose.
She got up and walked over to him, and he met her halfway. They embraced and held one another as though it had been years. Given everything that had happened in just the last year, let alone the last four, it felt like decades.
Jed buried his face in her hair and the tears that had threatened moments ago were back, flowing freely now.
“Abbey, I have some news. I lost the presidential election last night. And I don’t know how to handle myself now.”
She laughed over a sob. “I know. Jed, I love you.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “I know and I love you, too.” They held on for a moment longer, then separated and looked into each other’s faces.
“So how was your day?” he asked, a bit of humor coloring his voice for the first time in months.
Abbey responded in kind. “Oh, you know. A little cooking, a little cleaning. Saw the girls off. Started planning for my life as a former First Lady.”
“A lot of golf and charity events, I take it?”
“I was thinking of that, yes. Also planning to redecorate at the farm.”
“Spend all of my pension on curtains and throw pillows?”
“And fancy new cabinet doors, Jed.”
“Of course.”
Abbey smiled and kissed him, then sat down on the bed. She looked at him carefully and decided she could ask safely. “What about you? Any plans for the future?”
He sighed and looked his age for the first time since coming into the room. “Not yet. I’m still trying to accept it, Abbey. I haven’t lost an election since I ran for class president in the sixth grade. This is kind of hard to take.”
“The voters are finicky, you’ve always said so. And we knew this could happen, Jed. When you get down to it, this was partly why I didn’t want you to run. Granted, it was a very small part, but nevertheless. I didn’t want you to have to face this.”
“I knew it was a risk, yes. I’m amazed, frankly, that anyone could vote for such a vacant, waste of space like Ritchie.”
“Jed!”
He sighed again. “I can’t be honest, even here?”
“You can, but I’m surprised you aren’t using stronger language.”
Jed chuckled and joined her on the bed.
“It won’t really slow down until January, will it?”
“It will, some. I’m a lame duck now, and a chunk of Congress is, as well. We may find ourselves flatly bored some days. But it could still get interesting. I had a meeting this afternoon with Toby and Josh, and they think Congress could try and sneak a couple of things by us. Plus, now we have transition and all the goodbyes and…okay, no, it won’t really slow down.”
Abbey laughed and put her hand in his. “I didn’t think so.”
“So, seriously, what kind of planning have you been doing?”
“I want to go back to the farm at Christmas and stay there until the inauguration, start our own transition. I know you’ll have to be here, but I thought I’d go alone and keep away from the press and what have you.”
“CJ said something to Leo about the possibility of you writing a book. Seems there have been offers mentioned in the media.”
“You never know. I have a lot of time on my hands to plan for, Jed.”
He looked at their linked hands and leaned in to kiss her. “Yes, we both will.”
-
Later, they fell asleep in their clothes while chatting about their future, something they hadn’t done since before Liz was born.
On Thursday morning, Jed and Abbey went about their separate days, and when Abbey was asked in a morning talk show about the future, every knowing wife in the country could see that she was content.
And Jed, while in a meeting with Democrat Congressional leaders and a DNC hack who floated the idea of Jed running for governor once again, smiled at them all and answered every idea for his future with a vague “I’ll have to talk to my wife.”
---------
THE END
