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Language:
English
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Published:
2013-04-19
Words:
742
Chapters:
1/1
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5
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77
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Dear Abbey

Summary:

Set during 1.4 when Jed is high on painkillers. Charlie drags him back to the residence to place him under Abbey's care.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Dear Abbey, dear Abbey!” Jed sang as he strolled into the residence, Charlie close at his heels.

Abbey poked her head out of the study inquisitively. Upon seeing her, Jed dropped onto one knee and placed both hands over his heart.

“Dear Abbey, Dear Abbey, my fountain pen leaks! My wife hollers at me and my kids are all freaks, every side I get up on is the wrong side of bed. If it weren't so expensive I'd wish I were dead!” he sang, completely off-key and to what sounded like the melody of “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”

Abbey furrowed her brow and looked at Charlie. “Isn’t it a little early for him to be drinking?”

Charlie shifted from foot to foot. “Um, I think he actually said something about painkillers…”

“Damnit Jed!” Abbey cried. “How many times have I told you to only take one or the other?!”

He stood up and crossed to her. “I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own. I’m the…” he trailed off, waving a hand through the air absently. “I’m the something-or-other,” he finished lamely.

Abbey looked over at Charlie. “Please tell me he didn’t try to go to the Oval Office like this.”

“Ah, well, here’s the thing-“

Abbey closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “Have Mary clear my schedule for the day. Looks like I’ll be taking care of President Nimrod today.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!” Jed protested.

Abbey rolled her eyes. “That’ll be all for now Charlie, I’ll call you if I need you.”

“Very good m’am.” He very nearly ran from the room.

Abbey turned her attention back to her husband, who was intently staring at her. “What?” she asked, annoyed.

“Sometimes I forget how beautiful you are.”

She opened and closed her mouth. “You’re high,” she finally muttered.

“And you were hand-crafted by God himself.”

Abbey rolled her eyes, though she could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. Jed had always been quite the charmer. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He gave her his cheekiest grin. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

She smirked. “Nice try. You need to sleep off those painkillers, Mister President.”

He pouted and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Will you at least join me? I hate to sleep alone.”

“We’ll see,” she murmured, knowing full well she could never resist the chance to fall asleep in his arms.

He leaned heavily on her as they walked towards the bedroom. She could tell from his breathing that he was dangerously close to falling asleep on her. “Hey, Jethro, help me out here. Do I need to get Charlie to carry you to bed?”

“Which one’s Charlie?” he asked sleepily.

She paused at the bedroom door and fumbled with the doorknob, Jed took this opportunity to wrap his arms tighter around her waist and bury his face in her neck.

“Charlie, your bodyman? Nice kid but makes for a bad babysitter.” She pushed the door open with her hip and moved forward, Jed moving with her like an awkward Siamese twin.

“Ah Charlie. Good old Charlie. I like Charlie. I’ve been thinking we should adopt Charlie. Always wanted a son. That could keep him from flirting with Zoe too.”

“We’re not adopting Charlie,” Abbey said with a sigh, helping Jed lower himself onto the bed.

“What?”

“I said we’re not adopting Charlie.”

“Why would we adopt Charlie?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Abbey growled, yanking off Jed’s shoes with a little more force than necessary.

Jed laid his head back on the pillow as Abbey pulled the covers over him.

“You try and sleep this off, okay?” She went to step away from the bed but Jed caught her hand.

“Stay with me.”

It wasn’t quite a question. He knew she would stay with him whether he asked or not. But there was a certain fragility to his words that melted Abbey’s heart a little.

“I will,” she answered softly. “Scoot over.”

Jed obliged, shuffling over to make room for his wife. Abbey got into bed and laid her head on Jed’s chest like she had a thousand times before. She wrapped her arms around him as they settled into the familiar position, though it never ceased to amaze her just how well they fit like this.

“Goodnight Jethro,” she whispered.

“Goodnight moon,” he muttered.

She giggled and moved so that she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Close enough.”

Notes:

Lyrics are from the song "Dear Abby" by John Prine