Perdiddle
Ali Cherry
The dark interior of the car was silent as Sam and CJ watched the flickering lights of the city pass. CJ sighed and tried to stretch her somewhat cramped legs a little. Sam moved his own legs over some more.
“Go ahead and take the room, CJ.” Sam didn't look at her, his eyes focused on the traffic outside the car.
“Thanks, Sam.”
He shot her a smile and nodded. CJ leaned against the door, her legs stretched out towards Sam. She had kicked off her heels after the first half an hour of the drive and her stocking toes tickled a little at Sam's ankles.
“Do you think this will work?” She asked, her eyes focusing on Sam's face.
“Do we have a choice?”
“Not really.” CJ settled back into her seat and closed her eyes. The only sound in the car was swish of the tires along the road.
“How much further?” CJ asked.
“Another hour.”
“I forgot how hard it is to reach some of these places.” CJ stretched again, her toes rubbing at the edge of his shoe.
“Yeah.”
“You're quiet tonight, something wrong?” CJ looked at him intently, something was wrong, he usually would comment on the best route to take and the historical places on the way.
“No, not unless you count the fact that your feet are trying to reach over me to the window.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Sam's stomach growled intensely, and the moonlight flickering through the window, highlighted his red cheeks.
“Did you eat dinner before we left, Sam?”
“No.”
“Didn't you have a meeting during lunch?”
“Yeah.”
“Did Kathy eat your doughnut?”
Sam just looked at her.
“Right.” CJ leaned up and tapped the driver's shoulder. “We need to stop for some food.”
“But ma'am, I was given specific instructions—“
“Do you want me to tell you how much you don't want to deal with a starved Press Secretary? I'm quite the—you know— when I'm not fed.”
“I understand that ma'am.”
“Then find us a MacDonald's or Taco Bell or something.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
CJ settled back into her seat.
“That wasn't necessary, CJ.”
“I'm hungry too.”
Sam didn't say anything in reply. CJ stretched her feet again. Sam shot her a look, but moved his legs again.
After stopping at Taco Bell's drive thru, CJ watched as Sam carefully ate his Taco salad, never spilling on himself.
“How can you eat that without spilling it?”
Sam looked up from where he was shoveling the salad-covered crust into his mouth.
“Practice.” He held out a piece to her. “Want some?”
“No.” CJ watched as Sam loaded his fork and stuffed his face. When he was done he handed his trash over to CJ to put on her side of the car.
“Thanks.”
“Wanna know what you can do to repay me?”
Sam looked at her suspiciously. “I thought you were hungry too.”
“I was, but that still. . .”
“What?”
“Foot rub.” CJ plopped her feet on to Sam's lap and wiggled her toes.
“Isn't this some kind of sexual harassment?” Sam asked eyeing her nylon-clad instep.
“Feet aren't sexual.”
“What kind of sexual encounters are you having, that feet aren't involved?” Sam asked, laying his hands on her right foot and lifting it slightly.
“What kind of sexual encounters are you having, that feet ARE involved?”
“Pretty good ones.” Sam quipped back. His fingers started to move in slow circles over the base of CJ's heel. She sighed softly and closed her eyes.
“You're very good at this.” She murmured.
“I know. Practice.”
CJ opened her eyes to see Sam watching outside the car as his fingers slowly traced their way up her instep, to the balls of her feet.
“Perdiddle.” Sam said softly.
CJ chuckled. “Excuse me?”
Sam looked at her in surprise. “You never played that when you were a kid?”
“No, what?”
“It's a game my mom and I used to play. When you see a car with only one headlight, you say Perdiddle. For every Perdiddle you get a kiss from the other person. Or at least that's the way we played. Donna and I played it on the campaign, while Josh was asleep.”
“You and Donna kissed?”
Sam's eyes flew to hers. “What? No, Donna and I played for candy and change.” Sam concentrated on her foot for a second. “I got to say, CJ. Yuck. Donna's like my best friend's little sister.”
“Just checking. And Perdiddle.” CJ pointed out the car to Sam as he looked up. “Keep rubbing, magic fingers.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Sam dropped her right foot and picked up her left. Starting again with the base of the heel he began to work his way up. “Perdiddle.”
“Dammit.” CJ's eyes popped open and she concentrated on the traffic.
“Perdiddle.” They shouted simultaneously.
“Jinx, you owe me a coke.” Sam rubbed harder on the heel of her foot.
“What are we in second grade?”
“You still owe me a coke.” Sam smiled triumphantly at her.
“Please.”
“Please what?” Sam used his long skilled fingers to pull each of her toes softly, rubbing the tips of the toes and extending the joints.
“Perdiddle.” CJ grinned at him. “That's two.”
“Perdiddle. That's two.” Sam picked up CJ's right foot and started working on it again.
“I'm going to win, you know that right?” CJ asked calmly. “I have extraordinary eyesight.”
“Just you try to take on the number one perdiddler in the Seaborn household.”
“Perdiddler? Is that a word?”
“Doesn't matter, 'cause, Perdiddle.” Sam smirked at her before his fingers started massaging her feet again.
“I'm going to win, Spanky.”
“Go for it, Berkeley.” They never noticed the hour pass as they fought for control of the game.
@@
Sam, CJ, Josh and Toby climbed into the second limousine. They all settled in comfortably and tried to relax somewhat after the hectic afternoon round of speeches. Toby immediately picked up his phone to call Ginger as Sam and CJ watched the passing cars turn on their headlights in the twilight of the night. Sam's gut tightened as he saw it.
“Perdiddle.” He shouted as CJ smacked him and shouted it as well.
“Jinx, you owe me a coke.” CJ whacked Sam upside the head and turned her attention back to the traffic.
“What the hell just happened?” Josh asked the occupants of the car.
“Shut up, and go to sleep Joshua.” CJ and Sam both continued to look outside the limo.
Both were surprised to hear Toby say calmly. “Perdiddle.” He pointed to a car behind them. Josh eyed them all. Soon, the limo pulled in front of the White House and the staff climbed out of the car. Josh made his way over to the President.
“Mr. President, I think the senior staff have lost it.”
“What seems to be the problem, Josh?” The President eyed the group cautiously, noting the exchanging of money.
“They were shouting out this really weird word, and smacking each other, sir.”
“What word, Josh?” The President asked amused.
“Perditticlie? Something like that.”
“You've never played Perdiddle, Josh? You must have been a deprived child, I'm so sorry to hear that. Just come with me and I'll explain the game to you. I even know how it got started and the connotations that go along with it.” Josh's eyes widened in horror as he was dragged along after the President.
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