 | ShatterStorm Productions
|
| ShatterStorm Productions
|
Disclaimer: “The West Wing”, the characters and situations depicted are the property of Warner Bros. Television, John Wells Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. This site is in no way affiliated with "The West Wing", NBC, or any representatives of Allison Janney or Stockard Channing. This site contains stories between two mature, consenting adult females.
Author’s Notes: Note: writing shorts for this new coupling has proven to be fun indeed. Feedback is love <3
“Oh I didn’t…oh my God…wow.”
“Hmm?”
CJ turned away from the mirror and smiled at Abbey Bartlet. “Do you need something?”
“I need to know how you think I will be able to concentrate on anything when you're wearing that?” the First Lady closed the door.
“Well, nothing says Fourth of July like the American flag.”
“Let freedom ring.”
The White House Press Secretary laughed. She was dressed in an American flag string bikini and had been checking out how she looked in the full-length mirror in the Bartlet’s back bedroom. Abbey wanted to close in on her, grab her, touch her, kiss her, and make her scream. Unfortunately, her feet were stuck to the floor.
“Who bought that for you?” the First Lady asked.
“I do buy my own clothes Abigail…on occasion.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I thought you liked that.” CJ pulled her hair into a ponytail. She looked at Abbey through the mirror.
“Oh I like it a lot, Claudia Jean. I just have a houseful of guests this afternoon.”
“What are you doing up here anyway? People are probably looking for you.”
Abbey excused herself to go on the hunt for her misplaced sunglasses. She would definitely need them today…no doubt her eyes would wander.
“I have an extra pair in my bag.” CJ pointed to the tote in the chair as she put on Cherry Chapstick and then lip gloss. “The Gucci pair is mine.”
Abbey barely nodded, watching as CJ pulled a Hanes tank top on. She tied it at the bottom.
“Just tell me who bought it for you.”
“No.” she reached into the bag and pulled out the sunglasses. “Take these; the sun is brutal today. Shit, I need an SPF.”
Abbey took them, pulling CJ into her. She thought the First Lady looked breathtaking in a brown designer swimsuit and matching transparent sarong. Her breasts were such a tease but CJ kept her hands to herself. Anyone could walk in and even the embrace was dangerous. How would they explain it? Not that Abbey Bartlet ever explained herself to anyone. Explanations were the last thing on CJ’s mind when Abbey pressed the pad of her hand into the small of her back.
“No, Claudia Jean?”
“Mmm, no.” CJ disengaged herself from the spider web. “You are going to get jealous and that’s just silly.”
“It looks as if I won't be the only one covering my admiring eyes this afternoon.”
“Perhaps not. I better get down there.” CJ slid on her flip-flops and went to the door. Abbey’s voice stopped her.
“I can't help that I'm married.” She said.
“Oh my God, I know that.” she sighed. “And I can't help that someone else is giving me affection that I enjoy. Don’t do this…it is set to be a lovely afternoon. I want to have fun and do not need whatever this could turn out to be hanging over my head.”
“OK, I'm sorry.” Abbey sighed. “I just…its hard for me to see him look at you the same way I do. Its really hard for me to know that you like it.”
“Well I do. I’ll see you out there.”
CJ walked out. Abbey closed her eyes for a few moments; got her bearings. She checked herself in the mirror, admiring her own well-toned body. She took some deep breaths, repeated her husband’s name in her head, slid on her sunglasses, and got ready for another award-winning performance.
