The West Wing | Knowing | PG-13 | Hoynes/Suzanne; Hoynes/others
Title: Knowing
Fandom: The West Wing
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Hoynes/Suzanne, Hoynes/others mentioned
Summary: John Hoynes, speechless and surprised, all in one conversation. Today was a day for the history books.
Word Count: 1,050
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: Set during/around the events of the S4 episode "Life on Mars." You may be able to guess my opinion of this plot device after reading. =P Thanks go to my friends Kelly and Kat for the beta.
"John?" Suzanne asked, sounding curious, as soon as he walked into the room. He supposed his expression probably gave away that something big had happened.
"Suzanne," he replied, and she stood, moving toward him.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, now sounding concerned.
"We need to talk," he said, sitting down on the couch. She didn't move to join him, still looking worried, so he gestured for her to sit. "Sit down, please? It's important."
She frowned, sitting next to him. "What's this about?"
"I-" He stopped, hesitating. How many times in his life had he hesitated? Surely few enough that they could be easily counted. How many times had he had to struggle to think of something to say? He was a politician, for God's sake, and a damn good one, his latest idiocy notwithstanding. He was used to having a reassuring answer, a disarming quip, a perfect line, all on the tip of his tongue-confident, practiced, smooth.
It just figured that this skill would desert him now.
"John?" Suzanne asked, worry still lacing her tone. "Honey, talk to me. What's going on?"
"I've been having an affair." He said it deliberately, cautiously, watching her face. "I-"
"What did you do?" she interrupted, voice low and firm, like steel. Her eyes had clouded over, and she stood suddenly, turning away from him and shaking her head.
"I-excuse me? Suzanne, please sit back down."
She turned around, crossing her arms, and met his eyes. Her gaze was unflinching, cold. "You've been having affairs since before we were married," she said. "I'm assuming you haven't suddenly developed a crisis of conscience, so I repeat: what did you do? Why are you telling me now?"
Stunned-well and truly shocked, which was another rarity-he could only ask, "You knew?" John Hoynes, speechless and surprised, all in one conversation. Today was a day for the history books.
Her sudden bark of laughter contained no trace of mirth. "Did you think you married an idiot?"
"Of course not, but you never-you never-"
"Never what, John? What exactly did you think I would do? Throw a fit? Cause a scene? I'm a politician's wife. I was not about to suffer through some tawdry scandal or humiliate us both."
"No, not that." He looked at her, searching her face. He never would have suspected this, not in a million years. "You never even said a word."
"I made my...I suppose you could say peace with it long ago." Suzanne sighed, turning away from him again. "I knew you were never going to change. I hate it-God, I hate it-but I made my choice, and I will always stick to it." She turned back, giving him a pointed look. "Now answer my question."
He took a moment to breathe, a million thoughts swarming through his mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he replied, "I...told her things. Classified things. And now she's writing a book. Several things have been leaked already."
"Well, she must have been quite the lay," she replied icily. "Have you lost your mind, John? You have always at least had the foresight to be discreet. Why are you suddenly risking everything? You're smarter than this, dammit. How long did I have to listen to you rail against Bartlet's senior staff for even implying that you would be stupid enough to leak what happened during a privileged Cabinet meeting? Do your principles go so far out the window when you need to impress some conniving, social-climbing whore? Does your common sense? Every last bit of intelligence and political savvy you possess? Does your entire political career, your family?"
She stopped suddenly, taking a deep breath, and shook her head. After a moment, she continued, but in a much calmer tone of voice. "This is a problem. It needs to be handled. What are we going to do?"
"I committed a felony," he said, holding up his hands. "And the affair makes it juicy. It'll kill us if I stay Vice President. It'll completely kill us. After the MS debacle...there's no way to survive it."
"You'll resign, then." She leaned against the couch, uncrossing her arms. "Show the public that you're taking responsibility. You'll make the rounds, apologize. I'll be with you. Then, when the story dies down, you'll start trying to clean the slate."
"A book?"
"Sure. Or an in-depth interview, or both," she agreed. "Something to get it all out in the open. Maybe, if you're lucky, everyone will forgive you, and this won't have completely demolished your career, though God knows you'll deserve it if it does."
"I would," he agreed, and without hesitation. Of that, he had no doubt. "I'm an idiot, Suzanne, and a bastard. I'm sorry." He meant it. The apology was sincere, if not specific.
She smiled, not happily. "For what, John?" she asked, sounding...sounding tired, suddenly. "For the fact that you cheated or for the fact that I knew? For all of them, or just this one? For the way you screwed up this time?" She shook her head, holding up a hand to stop him from answering. "Don't. It doesn't matter. Don't ask me why right now, but I love you, and frankly, you've always been a bastard, and you've always been a cheater, but I've always known that. I knew what I was getting into." She gave him a hard look. "At least, for that. I did not, however, sign on for idiocy, so the next time you're buttering up some wide-eyed little bimbo, for the love of God, don't break the law."
His first instinct was to declare that there would never be a next time, to promise that this was it, that he'd change, he'd be better. After reading the look in her eyes, however, he resisted that urge. The fact was, he was now sure they both knew it would, eventually, end up being a lie, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her, not right now. Maybe not ever again, now that he knew she knew him so much better than he'd ever given her credit for. "I do love you, Suzanne," he told her instead. "You know that, right?"
She blew out a breath, giving him a rueful look. "Yes, John," she said. "I know that."
Now he did, too.
Fandom: The West Wing
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Hoynes/Suzanne, Hoynes/others mentioned
Summary: John Hoynes, speechless and surprised, all in one conversation. Today was a day for the history books.
Word Count: 1,050
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: Set during/around the events of the S4 episode "Life on Mars." You may be able to guess my opinion of this plot device after reading. =P Thanks go to my friends Kelly and Kat for the beta.
"John?" Suzanne asked, sounding curious, as soon as he walked into the room. He supposed his expression probably gave away that something big had happened.
"Suzanne," he replied, and she stood, moving toward him.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, now sounding concerned.
"We need to talk," he said, sitting down on the couch. She didn't move to join him, still looking worried, so he gestured for her to sit. "Sit down, please? It's important."
She frowned, sitting next to him. "What's this about?"
"I-" He stopped, hesitating. How many times in his life had he hesitated? Surely few enough that they could be easily counted. How many times had he had to struggle to think of something to say? He was a politician, for God's sake, and a damn good one, his latest idiocy notwithstanding. He was used to having a reassuring answer, a disarming quip, a perfect line, all on the tip of his tongue-confident, practiced, smooth.
It just figured that this skill would desert him now.
"John?" Suzanne asked, worry still lacing her tone. "Honey, talk to me. What's going on?"
"I've been having an affair." He said it deliberately, cautiously, watching her face. "I-"
"What did you do?" she interrupted, voice low and firm, like steel. Her eyes had clouded over, and she stood suddenly, turning away from him and shaking her head.
"I-excuse me? Suzanne, please sit back down."
She turned around, crossing her arms, and met his eyes. Her gaze was unflinching, cold. "You've been having affairs since before we were married," she said. "I'm assuming you haven't suddenly developed a crisis of conscience, so I repeat: what did you do? Why are you telling me now?"
Stunned-well and truly shocked, which was another rarity-he could only ask, "You knew?" John Hoynes, speechless and surprised, all in one conversation. Today was a day for the history books.
Her sudden bark of laughter contained no trace of mirth. "Did you think you married an idiot?"
"Of course not, but you never-you never-"
"Never what, John? What exactly did you think I would do? Throw a fit? Cause a scene? I'm a politician's wife. I was not about to suffer through some tawdry scandal or humiliate us both."
"No, not that." He looked at her, searching her face. He never would have suspected this, not in a million years. "You never even said a word."
"I made my...I suppose you could say peace with it long ago." Suzanne sighed, turning away from him again. "I knew you were never going to change. I hate it-God, I hate it-but I made my choice, and I will always stick to it." She turned back, giving him a pointed look. "Now answer my question."
He took a moment to breathe, a million thoughts swarming through his mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he replied, "I...told her things. Classified things. And now she's writing a book. Several things have been leaked already."
"Well, she must have been quite the lay," she replied icily. "Have you lost your mind, John? You have always at least had the foresight to be discreet. Why are you suddenly risking everything? You're smarter than this, dammit. How long did I have to listen to you rail against Bartlet's senior staff for even implying that you would be stupid enough to leak what happened during a privileged Cabinet meeting? Do your principles go so far out the window when you need to impress some conniving, social-climbing whore? Does your common sense? Every last bit of intelligence and political savvy you possess? Does your entire political career, your family?"
She stopped suddenly, taking a deep breath, and shook her head. After a moment, she continued, but in a much calmer tone of voice. "This is a problem. It needs to be handled. What are we going to do?"
"I committed a felony," he said, holding up his hands. "And the affair makes it juicy. It'll kill us if I stay Vice President. It'll completely kill us. After the MS debacle...there's no way to survive it."
"You'll resign, then." She leaned against the couch, uncrossing her arms. "Show the public that you're taking responsibility. You'll make the rounds, apologize. I'll be with you. Then, when the story dies down, you'll start trying to clean the slate."
"A book?"
"Sure. Or an in-depth interview, or both," she agreed. "Something to get it all out in the open. Maybe, if you're lucky, everyone will forgive you, and this won't have completely demolished your career, though God knows you'll deserve it if it does."
"I would," he agreed, and without hesitation. Of that, he had no doubt. "I'm an idiot, Suzanne, and a bastard. I'm sorry." He meant it. The apology was sincere, if not specific.
She smiled, not happily. "For what, John?" she asked, sounding...sounding tired, suddenly. "For the fact that you cheated or for the fact that I knew? For all of them, or just this one? For the way you screwed up this time?" She shook her head, holding up a hand to stop him from answering. "Don't. It doesn't matter. Don't ask me why right now, but I love you, and frankly, you've always been a bastard, and you've always been a cheater, but I've always known that. I knew what I was getting into." She gave him a hard look. "At least, for that. I did not, however, sign on for idiocy, so the next time you're buttering up some wide-eyed little bimbo, for the love of God, don't break the law."
His first instinct was to declare that there would never be a next time, to promise that this was it, that he'd change, he'd be better. After reading the look in her eyes, however, he resisted that urge. The fact was, he was now sure they both knew it would, eventually, end up being a lie, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her, not right now. Maybe not ever again, now that he knew she knew him so much better than he'd ever given her credit for. "I do love you, Suzanne," he told her instead. "You know that, right?"
She blew out a breath, giving him a rueful look. "Yes, John," she said. "I know that."
Now he did, too.