This is post-episode to Posse Comitatus (season 3 finale).
I wanted towrite something CJ/Toby surrounding the situation but it eventually (albeit reluctantly) lead to being a Toby/Andi fic too. Therefore, this is my headcanon of what happened to lead Toby back to Andi.
So here goes... do enjoy.
"Special Agent Simon Donovan was shot and killed in an armed robbery." Ron Butterfield told Toby and Sam, who stood with distressed expressions, slowly digesting the tragic news.
"Where's CJ?" Toby asked him, running a hand over his beard.
"She ran off when I told her." Ron told him.
"With her stalker out there?!" he yelled back.
"They caught him. Special Agent Donovan was on his way to the field office to file the report." Ron explained and Toby grew calmer.
"Oh, that's… that's good then. She's safe." Sam said hesitantly.
"I'm going to find her." Toby announced and strode off out onto the streets of New York, leaving the other two men behind.
Knowing the city well, and CJ even better, he tried to figure out where she'd be. He didn't believe she would have paced for block after block, not if she'd be upset and emotional as he fully expected her to be.
After a few minutes had passed and different directions were covered, he spotted her on a bench from her refined bob hairstyle. Shoulders hunched and head in her hands, he figured she was crying and made his way over to her. She didn't notice him sit down beside her, and he wrung his hands in his lap as he figured how to compose the best words.
"I'm sorry." He muttered softly and CJ didn't stir from her position.
She gasped out a sob, not looking up. "He's dead, Toby."
"I know." She continued to cry harder and he brought his arms around her, pulling her close.
They sat for several minutes in silence while she cried, her sobs becoming far and few between. Toby stroked her hair inattentively as she rested on his shoulder, feeling her shivering in the cool night.
"You're freezing." He noted, and shrugged out of his jacket, drawing it around her.
She attempted a weak smile in thanks and laid her head back.
"I kissed him." Her voice was quiet, almost muffled.
"You did?" he tried to keep the jealousy and surprise out of his voice, tone calm.
"I kissed him and he died." She looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks.
"You know that's not why he died." he said, his heart breaking at the sheer anguish in her eyes.
"He wasn't going to be my agent anymore." CJ rambled quietly and suddenly sobs racked her body again, collapsing back into Toby's arms. He realised for how much she was actually grieving and for once was at a complete loss on how to comfort her. Usually he could solve any of her problems, but this one was irremediable and it tore him up.
"Come on…" his low growl soothed her, his hands making circles on her back to keep her warm.
She wept for several more minutes before Sam found them; CJ was sitting against Toby, his arm around her and her eyes dead with mourning, gazing down the street as if absent and completely detached from the buzz of the city around her. Sam's face was pained by the suffering he felt himself witnessing through his friend.
"We're heading back. CJ, are you okay? I'm so sorry." He stood before them nervously and CJ looked up at him with sad eyes.
"Thanks, Spanky." She spoke softly and stood up, Sam hugging her before the three of them began walking back to the motorcade.
CJ was met with sympathy and comforting words on their arrival. On noticing the sorrow on her face and realising the pain she was suffering, the President took her into his arms. A whispered declaration of "he was a good man," left her biting her lip to refrain from resuming the crying once more.
"I called Josh, he said he's sorry. Amy too." Sam told them once they were riding to meet Airforce One.
CJ remained motionless beside Toby, his jacket still draped around her shoulders and the mascara and tear combination still upon her cheeks.
Sam's words were the only spoken between the trio for the whole journey, and once aboard Airforce One, CJ retreated from them straight away.
"What do you suggest?" the President asked Sam and Toby; they were gathered in his office on the plane deciding how to handle the inevitable press briefing that would be required.
"Is she up to briefing?" Sam wondered, his question more so directed to Toby. "She's pretty shaken up."
"Sam, her Secret Service agent was just killed, of course she's shaken up." Toby scolded.
"I don't want her doing anything she's not ready for." Jed spoke up rather anxiously.
"She wouldn't want us trying to protect her like this." Toby told them, pacing about the room.
Sam grew exasperated. "But she's in mourning, she's emotionally fragile."
"Yes I'm aware." He replied curtly.
It was eventually agreed that Sam would brief, relieving CJ of any further stress and as it would be simply easier for her given the circumstances.
Toby was openly reluctant, not wanting for it to appear like she needed them protecting her; the CJ Cregg he knew would never want the men in her life to feel like she needed hiding away from harsh situations. Deep down, however, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms, to shield and protect her from the hurt she was suffering and from the inevitable press mob that would occur were she to brief. The flashing lights, the adrenaline, the shouting Press Corps; he knew that no matter how composed she could look on the outside, she'd still be crumbling on the inside.
Having met with Sam and the President, Toby watched her from his seat across the plane: she was curled up in her seat, staring absentmindedly out of the window with silent tears streaming down her face.
"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, not daring to approach her.
"What do you expect?" she almost spat back, not turning to meet his eyes.
"Sorry, sorry." He backed off, muttering.
Toby continued to watch her and eventually she fell asleep. At that point, he wandered over and removed his jacket from her shoulders, draping it over her figure and fetching an extra blanket to cover her.
CJ stirred only slightly, murmuring in her sleep. "Toby?"
"Go back to sleep, CJ. We're not landing yet." He soothed, placing a delicate kiss on her temple before sitting in the seat directly opposite her, watching her sleeping form.
Moments later, Sam walked in and hovered next to Toby. "How is she?"
"She's been sleeping, she'll be exhausted." He replied, his own voice weary.
"Yeah." Sam said quietly. "I can't believe it."
"Me neither." He sighed.
"It's ironic really. They catch her stalker, which is how if anything he would've been killed, you know protecting her. Then he gets shot in an armed robbery instead." Sam babbled.
"I get the irony, Sam." Toby grumbled.
The plane landed soon after and Toby had to put up a tremendous fight for CJ to allow him to drive her home. He just wanted her to be okay and he couldn't bear to leave her alone in the condition she was in; she thought that she was perfectly fine for driving home until the realisation hit that Simon had drove her to meet the plane and tears began splashing down her face again.
Neither one spoke a word the whole journey; eventually her tears ceased and the silence between them was for once not comfortable, just empty. CJ allowed him to escort her into her townhouse and he remained hesitantly inside the doorway after she'd locked it.
"You ought to have a hot bath and get some sleep." He called, slowly following where she had trailed into the living room.
Toby found her collapsed on the couch, exquisite black Vera Wang sprawled around her and fresh tears running down her cheeks; he found it slightly reminiscent of an old tragic movie star but decided to keep his clichés to himself.
"Drink with me?" her voice was timid, almost child-like.
"Okay." He replied softly, and went off to find her scotch supply and glasses from their usual places in her kitchen cabinet by the window.
He poured them both full glasses of scotch, CJ downing hers almost instantaneously and leaving Toby gaping at her, his still almost full.
"Are you sure you want to be drinking so much so quickly?" he quirked his lips, although there was nothing playful about his expression.
She glared at him and poured another glass. "Don't."
They spent what felt like forever in silence, making their way through the scotch bottle. About halfway through, Toby spoke up.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
CJ leaned in to face him; he could almost taste the alcohol on her breath. "Trust me when I say this, Toby. I don't."
"Okay." He murmured, and her face remained eerily close to his. His next move was something he wished he could blame on his intoxication but she was still hopelessly beautiful even with black tears all over her face and her eyes almost lifeless with grief.
His lips softly grazed hers, and to his surprise she quickly responded; they kissed tenderly for several seconds before she pulled away, eyes wide in shock.
"Toby…" he instantly feared the edge to her voice and backed away from where they had moved so close to each other.
"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry CJ." He growled but was suddenly met with the force of her hand on his cheek.
"Get out."
"CJ -" he began to protest as he stood but she too stood and met his eyes with a ferocious gaze.
"Leave." she said, trying her hardest to keep the shake out of her voice.
He let himself out, unaware of how she fell down her door as soon as it slammed, crying even harder for everything that had occurred.
Toby stumbled down the steps and back to his car, but realised in the cold night air that he was far too drunk to be driving anywhere. He called a cab and found himself at home, unsteadily letting himself into his apartment.
Once inside, he almost had a heart attack at the fright when he realised who was sitting in his armchair by the window - Andi.
"How the hell did you get in here?!" he cried.
"You gave me a key." she said softly.
"I did? What? Okay." Toby sat down on the couch opposite, fingers steepled below his chin.
"I'm sorry about Simon Donovan." Andi muttered into the dark room.
"He was a good guy."
"Yeah, how's CJ?"
Toby couldn't lie. "Awful."
"I'd imagine. Is that why you weren't home sooner?"
"Yeah." the hitch in the utterance of the one syllable was clear and Andi leaned over, placing a tentative hand on his knee.
"Are you okay?" she wondered, eyes filled with worry.
Toby sighed and didn't meet her gaze. "I kissed her. She's mourning over her newly deceased Secret Service agent, who she kissed the last time she saw him before… it happened. And I completely fuck things up by kissing her." Again, he felt the alcohol overpowering any of his senses and moaned as he laid his head on the back of the sofa.
"Oh. I didn't know you two were…" Andi trailed off.
"We're not." he spoke up. "Not anymore."
"Oh." was all she could respond with.
"Do you want a drink? Seeing as you're here and I'm already tanked."
"Sure."
Toby found a bottle of wine, knowing Andi preferred wine to scotch, and stumbled back out to meet her with it. "I don't have any clean glasses."
She chuckled slightly. "I'll drink from the bottle, I think we're past elegant pretenses."
It wasn't long before Andi was as drunk as Toby and she found herself wound up on the couch beside him, shoes kicked off and legs crossed beneath her.
"We haven't done this in a long time." she drunkenly muttered and he didn't respond to her comment.
"I just want her to be okay." he whispered.
"I know, Toby." she grazed a hand over his back in comfort.
He looked up and somewhere in his gaze she could see the heartbreak. "She doesn't understand how much I want to be there for her and help her through this."
"She needs time, Toby." Andi explained and brought a hand to his face. "Give her time."
Suddenly, their lips met and allowed their intoxication and the heat of the moment to override any rational thoughts; tongues wrestling and hands exploring, they eventually succombed to one another right there on the couch.
An eventual drunken, tangled mess; breathing heavy and the room spinning around them.
"I don't think we should've done that." Andi declared quietly as she moved off him and towards the arm of the couch.
"We shouldn't have done that." he confirmed and struggled to reach for his discarded clothes around them.
"I should leave." she muttered quickly as she too scrambled for her clothes, messily redressing.
Toby didn't dare question her and watched as she exited his apartment, his head throbbing with the signs of an early hangover and still with the pain he had suffered with and because of CJ that night. Regret overwhelmed him, mind heavy with the betrayal of the fragmented woman crying alone in her apartment on the other side of town.