𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔸𝕨𝕒𝕪 •𝕁𝔽𝕂•

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 14 - ʜᴏɴᴇʏ ꜰɪᴛᴢ

I was smiling like a mad woman, curled up in the Oval Office on the couch while Jack sat on his desk, his phone receiver in his hand, his feet sprawled up in front of him, his eyes on me. I was reading through Jack's monthly approval rating and much to my relief, Jack's approval rating seemed to have increased by a whopping 12%. Jack then placed the receiver back and he stood up from his chair, walking up to me.

"What's got you so chirpy today?" He raised a brow, his expressions serious.

"The approval ratings, Jack. You've jumped 12%. It's good, right?" I looked at him with a child like innocence and a smile broke out on his lips as he slid his hands into his pockets. Just then, we were distracted momentarily as there was a knock on the door and the attorney general walked in, casually, with a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Approval ratings are fine, they are good. But we should never rely on them, those things could be tricky as fuck." Bobby said, probably having heard our conversation from the outside. "Sheesh, Bobby, what's with the profanity?" I grinned and sat upright, pulling my feet up until I was sitting cross legged to which he casually replied, "Nah, you're family now, it's high time you see us for the jerks we really are." He grinned as he looked at Jack. "He is right." Jack said and sighed as he patted me on my shoulder before making his way back to his desk, now addressing Bobby while I just listened to them, "South holds more than 120 votes and my popularity is less than 30% there. I think that  I can kiss the South goodbye this year." He sighed and looked down, frustrated.

"Don't forget California." Bobby narrowed his eyes as he carefully took a sip from his coffee mug, "we lost California by a goddamn 1 % in 1960. We need those votes."

"I think I know how I am going to get those votes." Jack whispered, his eyes now fixed on me while I had no clue they were talking about me, my attention span being that of a child's, I was already back to reading the approval ratings that I held in my hand. Bobby flicked a glance towards me following Jack's and raised an eyebrow, "What are you going to do?"

"Take her on vacation on Honey Fitz." Jack smirked and then, he looked at Bobby, some unspoken words passing through their eyes, Bobby's lips broke out into a smile and he started walking himself out of the room, "You do that Jack, you do that."

---

I let Jack bribe me into getting onboard his Presidential Yacht, Honey Fitz, although I had a stark fear of water that crippled me to such an extent, I started panicking. Jack, having been a sailor all his life, he laughed at me and called my hydrophobia an irrational fear, although not in a making fun way, but it still hurt, none the less.

Now it was almost afternoon and I found myself laying in the master bedroom of the Honey Fitz, my head resting against Jack's abdomen as he examined my swollen right hand, his glasses fixed on his eyes.

"I think this is infected." He commented.

"But didn't Dr. Burkley said that I will be fine? I've been doing everything he asked me to." I frowned when I thought that I had developed an infection and whined.

"Joanna–" Jack sighed and I sat upright, now facing Jack as he still held on gently to my right hand, "–I caught an infection in 1954 when I underwent a spinal infusion. It almost took my life. I know what a damn infection looks like." He brought up my hand to his lips and planted a kiss on the plaster, a smile creeping across the corners of my lips.

"How did it all start, Jack, the back pain?" I bit my lip as I asked him.

Jack opened his mouth to speak but an exhale escaped his mouth. He then spoke, "I think it was a football injury at Harvard. I think it didn't recover properly. The PT - 109 incident only worsened the problems."