Title: Not Operating Heavy Machinery

Characters: CJ Cregg, Danny Concannon

Rating: Harmless

Notes: Post-series.

Disclaimer: All credit goes to Sorkin, Wells, & NBC/Warner Bros.


Doubling the dose of Ambien seemed like a great idea before takeoff. By landing…not so much. A flight attendant had been there to force her off the plane, but now CJ was alone in the baggage claim, trying, and failing, to wrap her doped-up mind around the luggage sorting system. She's on the verge of giving up, maybe taking a nap on one of the conveyer belts, when an airport employee saunters up beside her with a look on his face that seems to say 'I can totally tell you're a famous person, and now I'm going to need to touch you so I can use this as an anecdote the next time my friends accuse me of having a boring, terrible job.'

He pats her elbow as he explains where she can get her bag –how'd he know what flight she was on? way too creepy –and for the first time in the history of ever, she kind of misses having the Secret Service within tackling range. But, whatever, the weirdo helps her get her bag, and that's good. Even better is the fact that he didn't make her sign anything, including body parts.

After wobbling through the terminal, CJ finds herself ingwait around the outdoor overhang of the pick up/drop off area. The three brain cells that're still awake are trying to convince her that this is where she and Danny agreed to meet back when she'd called him at the airport in Washington, but she's having a hard time remembering all that was pre-Ambien.

She should call him again now, she knows that, but doesn't trust her addled self to stay composed over the phone. As it stands, she's got a nasty feeling that the first words out of her mouth would be some sobbing rendition of 'I love you SO MUCH' and, even though that might be true –is true, who is she kidding; she just finished moving across the country for him –she really doesn't want to subject every person within earshot to that kind of outburst.

A familiar engine roars nearby, and CJ's utterly baffled for a second, till she chalks it up to whatever drugs she's on. Yeah, it might sound like her Mustang just pulled up, but that can't be, because a week before leaving Washington she'd sold the car to a twenty-something with pimples. She remembers this, knows it for a fact, because she was stunned that the kid had been able to meet the asking price, and with cash, too. And even though it killed her to do it, she'd counted out the bills, then handed over the keys and watched as he'd backed the car –reverently, she'd been relieved to see –out of her driveway.

So, long story short, it couldn't have been her car.

Except, it was. Cause there was Danny, right behind the wheel, wearing a pair of sunglasses and the loudest, flamingo-print shirt she'd ever seen. He looks over at her, takes off the glasses, and grins, and in that second she realizes that the kid with the acne was just a front for what is, without a doubt, the single most romantic moment of her life.

And, you know what? Screw the strangers. She'll sob whatever she wants to sob, especially when it's so very, very true.

"Oh, Danny. I love you SO MUCH."