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John's Quest
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S through Z › West Wing
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
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3,733
Reviews:
6
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
S through Z › West Wing
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
3,733
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own The West Wing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter II
John's Quest
By: Abra de Winter
Pairing: John Hoynes/Ellie Bartlet - Romance
Rating: PG (still)
Beta By: dot
Spoilers: season 5 episodes 15 – "Full Disclosure" and 16 – "E pur si muove"
Disclaimer: The characters are from the NBC, WB, Bravo, A John Wells Prod., TV show, 'The West Wing'. They are the creation of Aaron Sorkin.
Feedback: yes, please!
Chapter II
The Bartlet he needed was forty-five minutes away. Dr. Eleanor Bartlet worked in Johns Hopkins University Medical Research Lab., as all America had found out when the Traditional Values Alliance had publicly labeled her research as "questionable".
Hoynes, who had done nothing but work and watch the news since Suzanne had left, knew this.
He had always disliked Jed Bartlet, and the mild dislike had turned to loathing in the past year. The more he despised him the more he learned about him, trying to understand his enemy, like the art of war advised. When it came to his family, the Yankee was quite predictable. Hoynes didn't need to be at the White House to know that after the media spectacle surrounding his daughter President Bartlet would make sure that the press would stay as far from his daughter as possible.
He was proven right when he saw the First Daughter's secret service escort by the elevator. He remembered the agent's face from the extensive footage the networks had shown when Ellie had run to daddy for protection. He smelled delighted the media-free air around the hospital. He concealed the self-satisfied smile as he addressed the agent and asked her if he could bother Dr. Bartlet for an emergency.
________________________________________
Ellie knew only one John Hoynes. The one the all of America knew. The disgraced former Vice President. An emergency? Had something happened to her family? To Leo? No. They wouldn't send Hoynes for something like that. She agreed to see him, curious and apprehensive at the same time.
She hadn't dealt with flesh and blood patients since she had finished Med School. She had been working exclusively with data, samples and analysis for a couple of years, but even for a practice-deficient scientist like her the problem was clear as soon as he entered the lab.
"Dr. Bartlet," he addressed her courteously, "I'm sorry to disturb you."
"Have a seat, Mr. Hoynes." She pointed to a chair and left the room.
She came back with a bag containing something frozen, and placed it on his left eye. The man recoiled a little at the first contact of his black eye with the cold package, but then sighed as the coolness began to soothe the pain.
"I think I understand why you're here, but I'd like to hear it from you."
"This is exactly what it looks like. I got in a fight, I need medical attention and I don't want to read about it in the papers."
"You are aware that I'm not an ER doctor, and in fact I don't even work with patients?"
"Yes. But you are a qualified physician. If there's something serious, you can spot it and I'll reassess my priorities. If it is really serious." He underlined the last words unnecessarily.
"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked, examining his forehead, trying to guess how bad the injury would have to be to make him risk another tidal wave of press attention.
"I got into a fight."
"Where else did you get hit? Except the face."
"I can't remember. It happened pretty fast."
He was answering the questions with political and legal precision. After the dozens of cross-examinations he had conducted as a lawyer and the hundreds of hearings and press conferences he had attended during his career, he was unable to answer otherwise.
"Where does it hurt?" She continued to extract information from him patiently while checking his skull.
"Just my head and ribs."
"Have you been drinking?" she asked, changing the succession of questions.
He took the bag off to look her straight in the eye as he answered.
"No."
"Good." She smiled, believing him, then turned the bag over and put it back. "Good," she said again, feeling his face with her fingertips.
John relaxed a little. The pain seemed to diminish under her touch.
"The head seems fine, but for the ribs you need an X-ray."
"Can't you guess? I don't want anyone to know I'm here, let alone the reason I'm here."
She hit his torso lightly, watching him. He winced in pain.
"I'm guessing your ribs are either broken or just cracked. You need an X-ray."
"I don't want anyone to know about this," he said in a tone that was explanation and request at the same time. "Your bodyguard, is she discreet?"
"Yes. Now let's…" She stood up and moved towards the door.
"This is covered by doctor – patient confidentiality, right?" he interrupted her, still sitting.
"I'm not a practicing physician, but I took the oath, too. Don't worry about that. Come on now! I know how you can get an anonymous radiography. I promise no one will know who you are. I have a colleague who's the perfect absent-minded scientist."
"I trust you," he said as an acceptance and followed her.
Ellie smiled, noticing his tone. He had said the words as if he were casting a spell. He was consenting and at the same time he was trying to chain her with his trust.
"Why?" She couldn't help torturing him a little.
"At this time, I'd rather trust my enemies than my friends," he said bitterly.
"I'm not your enemy, Mr. Hoynes. I may disagree with you. I may even dislike you, but I'm not your enemy. Give that to me." She reached for the melting package covering half his face.
"What was in there?" Hoynes asked when Ellie threw it in a garbage can before they left the laboratory.
"You don't want to know," she said, avoiding his searching gaze.
He followed her through the corridors of the research wing of the hospital wondering if he could trust her. Soon, Ellie stopped and knocked on a door. The muffled sound coming from the other side was not as welcoming as he might have wished, but he went in after her.
As soon as they entered, Hoynes stopped worrying whether she had lied to him or not. The person who had invited them in was bent over a microscope and resembled in every detail the Hollywood image of the air-headed scientist.
"What do you need, Bartlet?" the guy asked, vaguely recognizing Ellie as he looked up from his work.
"Hi, Mark. I need an X-ray."
He looked her up and down, seeming sharper now but still ignoring Hoynes's presence.
"Can I take pictures?"
"I don't think they would have any scientific value." She tried to look less amused than she really was. "I want an X-ray of his head and torso."
"Fine. I have a table." Mark said, and walked through a door at the back of his lab.
"A table?" Hoynes asked, bewildered.
"Well," she coughed, "you needed privacy, right?"
"Yeah…" he said hesitantly.
"Yeah… You see, the people who get X-rays here can't stand up…"
"Is this a morgue?" He cut through her hesitation.
"No," Ellie answered quickly. "It's a research facility that happens to work with dead people," she finished less assertively.
Hoynes walked after the absent-minded professor and Ellie did not follow them. Mark came out with the X-rays, while Hoynes was getting dressed again. She looked at them and was relieved to see he didn't have anything broken because she couldn't imagine winning a debate against him. If the guy had been scared enough about a possible press leak to drive from DC all the way to Baltimore, he wasn't liable to accept easily her suggestion that he needed serious medical assistance.
When he came out alone a few minutes later she informed him that he had only a thin crack in his ribs.
"So you should just take it easy for a while," she advised him.
"How can I thank you?"
"A huge, flashy flower arrangement would be nice," she said, looking unwillingly towards the corner of the lab, where Mark was hunched over a microscope.
Hoynes followed her gaze and turned on the charm out of habit.
"No one needs reminding how amazing you are."
"It can't hurt." She smiled, embarrassed as much by the compliment as by the fact that he had guessed.
"Thank you, Dr. Bartlet. Good bye."
"Take care, Mr. Hoynes."
He nodded and walked out.
By: Abra de Winter
Pairing: John Hoynes/Ellie Bartlet - Romance
Rating: PG (still)
Beta By: dot
Spoilers: season 5 episodes 15 – "Full Disclosure" and 16 – "E pur si muove"
Disclaimer: The characters are from the NBC, WB, Bravo, A John Wells Prod., TV show, 'The West Wing'. They are the creation of Aaron Sorkin.
Feedback: yes, please!
Chapter II
The Bartlet he needed was forty-five minutes away. Dr. Eleanor Bartlet worked in Johns Hopkins University Medical Research Lab., as all America had found out when the Traditional Values Alliance had publicly labeled her research as "questionable".
Hoynes, who had done nothing but work and watch the news since Suzanne had left, knew this.
He had always disliked Jed Bartlet, and the mild dislike had turned to loathing in the past year. The more he despised him the more he learned about him, trying to understand his enemy, like the art of war advised. When it came to his family, the Yankee was quite predictable. Hoynes didn't need to be at the White House to know that after the media spectacle surrounding his daughter President Bartlet would make sure that the press would stay as far from his daughter as possible.
He was proven right when he saw the First Daughter's secret service escort by the elevator. He remembered the agent's face from the extensive footage the networks had shown when Ellie had run to daddy for protection. He smelled delighted the media-free air around the hospital. He concealed the self-satisfied smile as he addressed the agent and asked her if he could bother Dr. Bartlet for an emergency.
________________________________________
Ellie knew only one John Hoynes. The one the all of America knew. The disgraced former Vice President. An emergency? Had something happened to her family? To Leo? No. They wouldn't send Hoynes for something like that. She agreed to see him, curious and apprehensive at the same time.
She hadn't dealt with flesh and blood patients since she had finished Med School. She had been working exclusively with data, samples and analysis for a couple of years, but even for a practice-deficient scientist like her the problem was clear as soon as he entered the lab.
"Dr. Bartlet," he addressed her courteously, "I'm sorry to disturb you."
"Have a seat, Mr. Hoynes." She pointed to a chair and left the room.
She came back with a bag containing something frozen, and placed it on his left eye. The man recoiled a little at the first contact of his black eye with the cold package, but then sighed as the coolness began to soothe the pain.
"I think I understand why you're here, but I'd like to hear it from you."
"This is exactly what it looks like. I got in a fight, I need medical attention and I don't want to read about it in the papers."
"You are aware that I'm not an ER doctor, and in fact I don't even work with patients?"
"Yes. But you are a qualified physician. If there's something serious, you can spot it and I'll reassess my priorities. If it is really serious." He underlined the last words unnecessarily.
"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked, examining his forehead, trying to guess how bad the injury would have to be to make him risk another tidal wave of press attention.
"I got into a fight."
"Where else did you get hit? Except the face."
"I can't remember. It happened pretty fast."
He was answering the questions with political and legal precision. After the dozens of cross-examinations he had conducted as a lawyer and the hundreds of hearings and press conferences he had attended during his career, he was unable to answer otherwise.
"Where does it hurt?" She continued to extract information from him patiently while checking his skull.
"Just my head and ribs."
"Have you been drinking?" she asked, changing the succession of questions.
He took the bag off to look her straight in the eye as he answered.
"No."
"Good." She smiled, believing him, then turned the bag over and put it back. "Good," she said again, feeling his face with her fingertips.
John relaxed a little. The pain seemed to diminish under her touch.
"The head seems fine, but for the ribs you need an X-ray."
"Can't you guess? I don't want anyone to know I'm here, let alone the reason I'm here."
She hit his torso lightly, watching him. He winced in pain.
"I'm guessing your ribs are either broken or just cracked. You need an X-ray."
"I don't want anyone to know about this," he said in a tone that was explanation and request at the same time. "Your bodyguard, is she discreet?"
"Yes. Now let's…" She stood up and moved towards the door.
"This is covered by doctor – patient confidentiality, right?" he interrupted her, still sitting.
"I'm not a practicing physician, but I took the oath, too. Don't worry about that. Come on now! I know how you can get an anonymous radiography. I promise no one will know who you are. I have a colleague who's the perfect absent-minded scientist."
"I trust you," he said as an acceptance and followed her.
Ellie smiled, noticing his tone. He had said the words as if he were casting a spell. He was consenting and at the same time he was trying to chain her with his trust.
"Why?" She couldn't help torturing him a little.
"At this time, I'd rather trust my enemies than my friends," he said bitterly.
"I'm not your enemy, Mr. Hoynes. I may disagree with you. I may even dislike you, but I'm not your enemy. Give that to me." She reached for the melting package covering half his face.
"What was in there?" Hoynes asked when Ellie threw it in a garbage can before they left the laboratory.
"You don't want to know," she said, avoiding his searching gaze.
He followed her through the corridors of the research wing of the hospital wondering if he could trust her. Soon, Ellie stopped and knocked on a door. The muffled sound coming from the other side was not as welcoming as he might have wished, but he went in after her.
As soon as they entered, Hoynes stopped worrying whether she had lied to him or not. The person who had invited them in was bent over a microscope and resembled in every detail the Hollywood image of the air-headed scientist.
"What do you need, Bartlet?" the guy asked, vaguely recognizing Ellie as he looked up from his work.
"Hi, Mark. I need an X-ray."
He looked her up and down, seeming sharper now but still ignoring Hoynes's presence.
"Can I take pictures?"
"I don't think they would have any scientific value." She tried to look less amused than she really was. "I want an X-ray of his head and torso."
"Fine. I have a table." Mark said, and walked through a door at the back of his lab.
"A table?" Hoynes asked, bewildered.
"Well," she coughed, "you needed privacy, right?"
"Yeah…" he said hesitantly.
"Yeah… You see, the people who get X-rays here can't stand up…"
"Is this a morgue?" He cut through her hesitation.
"No," Ellie answered quickly. "It's a research facility that happens to work with dead people," she finished less assertively.
Hoynes walked after the absent-minded professor and Ellie did not follow them. Mark came out with the X-rays, while Hoynes was getting dressed again. She looked at them and was relieved to see he didn't have anything broken because she couldn't imagine winning a debate against him. If the guy had been scared enough about a possible press leak to drive from DC all the way to Baltimore, he wasn't liable to accept easily her suggestion that he needed serious medical assistance.
When he came out alone a few minutes later she informed him that he had only a thin crack in his ribs.
"So you should just take it easy for a while," she advised him.
"How can I thank you?"
"A huge, flashy flower arrangement would be nice," she said, looking unwillingly towards the corner of the lab, where Mark was hunched over a microscope.
Hoynes followed her gaze and turned on the charm out of habit.
"No one needs reminding how amazing you are."
"It can't hurt." She smiled, embarrassed as much by the compliment as by the fact that he had guessed.
"Thank you, Dr. Bartlet. Good bye."
"Take care, Mr. Hoynes."
He nodded and walked out.