Disclaimer: They belong to my alternate personality.

Note: Takes place during the campaign.

***

I want to dance with you.

I watch you now, twirling around the makeshift dance floor with Josh. You're laughing. Your laugh is infectious. Just like your smile.

I noticed you the first day I walked into that storefront. You were confident, collected, funny, and sexy as anything. But on guard, as soon as you knew who I was. I watched you flirt with everyone and wished it was me. Always wished it was me, close enough to joke with you and flirt with you.

Even on an informal campaign trail like this one, there are lines. Reporters are not allowed to get too close. I know that. I understand that.

But it doesn't mean I have to like it.

You're laughing at something Sam just whispered in your ear. I know there's nothing between you two, but I'm still jealous of how close he is. I nearly laugh as you try to tease Leo onto the floor. I can't stop my grin as Governor Bartlet rescues him and leads you onto the floor. Of course the man is a great dancer. He says something and you both laugh. I sit, rooted to the spot as I watch you celebrate.

Of course, you have every reason to celebrate. The whole staff pulled off a major victory today, and the White House is inching closer for you. I wish I could join in the celebration. Really join, not just sit here on the sidelines. I wish I was more to you than another one of your reporters.

I want to see you do the Jackal again. You haven't done if for three states now and I'm beginning to wonder if I dreamed it.

You catch my eye and I can't look away. The song ends and you take your eyes away to thank the governor.

I wonder who you'll dance with next. Who will I have to imagine I am for this dance? I want to get up and ask you, but I know that would be insane. I can't do that, can't put you in that position.

But I want to dance with you.

I lose sight of you for a moment and suddenly you are behind me.

"Come on, wallflower." You grin wildly at me. "Time to dance." And you drag me out of my chair and to the dance floor.

***

I want to dance.

I can feel my body moving on its own accord. I'd say I was drunk, but that'd be an excuse. And it's not true, I can handle my liquor. I'm high on adrenaline, have been since the results came in. I must be doing bad, Josh is laughing at me. Josh, of all people, is laughing at me. Or maybe with me, since I'm laughing like crazy tonight.

I admit it, I like forcing people to the dance floor. Different styles of dancing amuse me. I grab Sam, but he holds firm on the sidelines and whispers, "Go dance with Leo." I grin at him and laugh, nearly skipping over to Leo.

I grab his hand. "I need a new dance partner, Sam's got two left feet."

Leo smiles, amused, but shakes his head.

"C'mon, it'll be fun." I coax, but am pulled away by an arm around my waist guiding me towards our dance floor.

"Governor!" I am delighted. I know he's a good dancer. We fall into step.

"CJ, no dips, okay." He tells me, pretending to stand on tiptoes. I laugh, happy enough to even be okay with jokes about my height tonight. He turns serious. "Good job today."

"Thank you, sir." I smile. "You're the leader, we're just following."

I look around at my friends. At Toby, who removed me from the vast wasteland called Hollywood. Josh, who's such a fun drunk. Sam, a bit too idealistic, in my opinion, for Washington. But we'll see. Leo, Abbey, Donna, Margaret, all of whom have become my new family. As I am twirled slowly around, my eyes scan the room. "This is an amazing group." I tell the governor.

He smiles. "I was thinking the same thing, CJ."

My eyes fall on my reporters as the song comes to an end. I can't tear them away from Danny's for a moment. There's something different about Danny. Something comforting and scary. I warn myself to stay away, to not invite trouble.

"Thank you, sir." I smile at the Governor and fade back into the crowd. I decide to leave the room for some fresh air. But when I glance back, I realize I am behind Danny's chair. And the temptation is too great.

"C'mon! Wallflower." I grin down at him, hoping he doesn't realize how badly I suddenly want him to accept. "Time to dance."

His heated glance tells me all I need to know and I drag him from his chair to the dance floor.

***