Rating: PG for violence

Spoilers: ITSOTG and before

Summary: a sequel of sorts to "Midnight," although you don't need to have
read that - this actually takes place before it, but this story springs off a
reference in that one. Anyway.


He stopped whistling when he heard the first noise.

It sounded like a dull popping - dull, but loud, and accompanied by the crash
of shattering glass. Then other, unmistakable sounds - people screaming,
shouts he couldn't make out, more glass, car tires screeching, footsteps
pounding inside the building where he was, sirens - and through it all, more
of that hideous popping sound that he had by now identified as gunshots.

It had all happened in - must have been less than five minutes. She pulled
him aside, told him to call his editor, sent him to a payphone, she left, he
went, he dialed, he delivered his message, he was on hold - and all hell had
broken loose. Later he would remember that he'd been whistling out loud when
he heard the first shots - whistling because C.J. was speaking to him again
and had offered him a "peace pipe" or whatever she'd called it.

It seemed like an eternity, but it actually took him less than a minute to
realize that the noises he heard were gunshots. He stood frozen, managing
only to remember to hang up the phone. The screams went on and on. The
gunshots stopped suddenly and abruptly, but the screams continued and the
sirens got louder. His mind danced over images of the people he knew up
there - the President, obviously. He couldn't begin to imagine a successful
assassination, God forbid. And he knew the staff had to be right behind him
- Leo right at his side as always, Charlie and probably little Zoe - C.J.
Danny's heart lurched and he had to swallow hard to keep his composure - not
that it mattered, since he was alone, but he wasn't rationalizing that far.
He couldn't - he tried to tell himself that she couldn't possibly be hurt,
that all odds were against it, that no one had ever tried to kill a press
secretary before. But all they would need was a vengeance against Josiah
Bartlet, and bad aim. He started to run.

Arnold Carter from the Associated Press would later tell Barbara Walters that
Danny Concannon from the Washington Post was one of only three people he'd
seen running toward the shooting - any sensible person would be running away.

He ran smack into another body, hard. He stopped for a second to get his
breath and regroup, and before he could run again a female voice shrieked,
"Danny!" and he found someone hanging onto him for dear life. He looked
down, a little confused. "Sandra?" He was too flustered even to remember
little things like her last name or the paper she wrote for.

She pulled away, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. I just started running -
you're the first familiar face I've seen."

"What did you see?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries. It was obvious she
hadn't been injured. "What happened?"

Sandra took a deep breath and went into reporter mode. "Someone fired on the
crowd from an upstairs window. More than one person, I think. They were
shooting - almost randomly, in every direction. We couldn't tell where they
were aiming, we just ducked. I was on the edge, some guy from the crowd
reached over and pulled me under him."

"What else did you see?" Danny pressed her. "Who's hurt up there?"

She shook her head. "Lots of people, I think. I couldn't really tell.
Everyone was screaming and running for cover - it was hard to tell if people
were on the ground hiding or if they'd been hit. I saw a woman from the rope
line on the ground with her leg bleeding - and I thought I saw Toby Ziegler
on the ground, but I couldn't tell if he was hurt. He was by the gate and
people were falling on him."

Danny sent up a silent prayer for the man he'd hardly ever had a polite
conversation with. "Anything else?"

Sandra thought. "I may have seen - I saw the President get into his limo,
but I couldn't tell whether he was hurt or not. There was blood, but it
could have been the agent's. Oh, and I saw Josh Lyman by the gate. I
remember now - he wasn't with the rest of the staff, he went back for
something - he was way behind them. Some guy trying to run knocked him over
and I think he fell."

He didn't think he could stand this for another second. "Sandra, did you see
C.J.?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh my God - how could I have forgotten that?"

His heart skipped a beat. "What - you forgot to look for her, or you forgot
to tell me?"

"I forgot to tell you." Her eyes were still big and frightened. "She was
walking with Sam Seaborn. When the shooting started I looked for her,
naturally - I mean, she's the only one I really know. Some guy, he could
have been an agent, came between her and Sam and kind of knocked them off
balance - then that guy pulled me down -" She was gesturing wildly now and
near tears. "When I looked up again I couldn't see her - they had been
behind a car and she must have been on the ground behind it. But the car
window was shattered - I think a bullet must have gone through it. And Sam
was running around yelling for a doctor."

Danny had to fight hard to keep from throwing up. He took a few deep breaths
and muttered to Sandra, "I have to go." Then he started to run again.

When he came nearer to the glass doors he passed another reporter, a new one
whose name he couldn't remember. But of course any reporter would know the
tall press secretary. "Hey! Have you seen C.J. Cregg?" Danny called
desperately.

The other man stopped for a moment. "Yeah, I was a little behind her when it
started. A car window broke over her head - I didn't see exactly what
happened 'cause I was ducking, but after I looked for her, you know, 'cause
she was always nice to me. She was on the ground, and Sam Seaborn was
leaning over her." The other reporter shrugged. "Then some SSA pulled me
away."

"Could you tell if she was hurt?" Danny pressed, trying to keep his voice
from shaking.

The other man shook his head. "Sam had a little blood on his hand, but it
could have been his."

"Oh God." Without another word he bolted for the doors.

"Sir! Sir!" Two heavy agents stopped him as he was about to run into the
thick of the carnage. "This area's been restricted." He barely heard them
as he surveyed the scene. People were lying in various positions on the
pavement, some crying, some still screaming. Several broken bones were
apparent and almost everyone was a little scraped or bruised. There was no
sign of the President, Zoe, Leo McGarry - of course, they'd have been whisked
away as soon as possible. Far across the roped-off area he saw Toby Ziegler
sitting on the hood of a car, being checked out by a medic. He looked fine.
Danny turned to ask the agents about C.J. and saw that they were gone.
Salvation came in the form of his friend Katie from the press room, who
spotted him and ran over to give him a quick hug.

He liked Katie enough that he actually remembered to ask about her welfare.
She shook off his questions blithely. "I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"I was inside. Did you see what happened to C.J.?"

Katie looked at him sympathetically. She was one of the few White House
reporters who had picked up on Danny's infatuation with the press secretary.
"I saw Sam Seaborn bring some medics over and they picked her up off the
ground. I think she was unconscious. Sam had blood on his hand and it
didn't look like he was hurt, so I think it may have been hers. But," she
added, seeing his stunned expression, "I don't think she was shot. The
medics weren't moving very fast and they didn't look too worried. She may
have gotten hurt falling down."

Danny nodded, breathing deeply and willing the nauseous feeling to go away.
Katie rubbed his arm gently. "You know, since I was already in there they
might let me back. I'll go see if I can find her." He nodded gratefully.

Katie was gone for an agonizing five minutes. When she returned she was
smiling. "She's okay," she reported. Danny exhaled in sharp, almost painful
relief as the other reporter continued. "Someone told me she hit her head on
the concrete and blacked out, but the paramedics checked her out and let her
go. The blood on Sam's hand was probably from her head, but it looked like
the bleeding was already stopping. Back here," she added, pointing to a spot
a couple inches back from her hairline, "is where she was holding a bandage
or something. But she was walking around, and I saw her talking to Sam.
She's a little scratched up, but she's okay."

"Did you see anything else?" he asked now that the initial shock had worn off.

Katie shook her head. "Not really - although . . ."

"Although what?"

"When I got close to CJ she was asking about the President - she was crying
and asking if he was dead. The medic said he didn't know. So I guess it's
possible he might have been injured." Katie paused for a second and Danny
could have sworn she was blinking back tears. "I tell you - I'll never
forget the way she sounded, Danny." She motioned to her wet eyes. "It made
me cry, hearing her ask for him. She sounded completely heartbroken."

Danny's own heart ached painfully, but he knew there was little he could do
about it. C.J. would be surrounded by her friends and coworkers and would
probably be headed back to the White House to start damage control, and he
had his job to do as well. No matter how much he wanted to -

"You okay there?" Katie asked.

He nodded. "I just wish I could . . ."

"See her yourself?"

"Yeah."

"She's okay. You'll see her in the press room."

He nodded again. "Katie, someone said something about a car window -"

"Over CJ's head. Yeah. A bullet went right through it. I think someone
pushed her to the ground and that's how she got hurt - but if they hadn't
she'd have been shot. Probably straight through the chest." He gasped and
she squeezed his hand. "But she's okay."

He nodded, staring out at the crowded street and straining for a glimpse of
her. "Yeah."

Before he could muse further an ambulance screeched its way into the street
right in front of them and sped toward GW. Another AP reporter ran up to
them yelling, "Half Bartlet's staff just got in that one. It's Josh Lyman!"


The End.