Brown LA Haze
CJ/Danny
Rating Adult –
Spoilers through end of series
Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul
Feedback and criticism always welcomed
Not really part of "Holding Hands on the Way Down" but consistent with it, except for one or two details.
This is one of the few things I've written that occurs in the past. I've had to take some possible literary license with canon and with what may or may not have occurred, climate wise, in Los Angeles and in DC during the time period. Mea culpa.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007; Marina del Rey, CA; 9:45 PM PST
Danny was tired, dead tired. All he wanted to do was crash out on the king-sized bed in the large room facing the ocean. Instead, he picked up his phone and punched "ICECJ".
While he waited for the satellites and cell towers to work their magic, Danny ruefully thought to himself that, for at least the next three days, give or take a few hours, she had the power to know that his plane had arrived at LAX if not before it actually touched down, at least at the same time that he had felt wheels hit pavement.
Still, landing at the airport was not the same as safely reaching Sam's condo. Also, it had been a long time since anyone had cared about him that much, and, truth be told, Danny liked the feeling. Besides, CJ would have a lot of questions about the woman who waited for Danny to make sure that he was properly situated before leaving him to his own devices.
So when she answered, he told her about his flight and he told her about Morgan Borgia. ("She's got black hair, blue eyes, looks a lot like one of Robin's second cousins, remind me to tell you about Brianna sometime. She says she's mostly Irish, but has an Italian parental grandfather, and yes, she is descended from *those* Borgia's. Love you. See you on Sunday.")
When Danny finally did crash, he was almost too tired to miss the feel of CJ's warm backside against his groin and a penis that was pleasantly flaccid after a satisfying and relaxing climax.
Almost.
Thursday, January 18;
According to Danny's internal clock, still set to the East coast, it was 10:15 and he had slept late. But also according to his internal clock, he had gone to bed at 1:00 AM.
Stumbling into the kitchen, he looked out the window which faced east, toward the San Bernadino Mountains. Morgan had warned him that LA was in the midst of a smog alert and even at this hour, he could already see that everything was shrouded in haze, as if the clear glass was curtained with burnt umber sheers.
Making coffee, he watched the morning news shows. The only thing on his schedule today was a meeting at the LATimes in the afternoon to work out the specifics of his contract, followed by dinner with some of his reporter friends at the paper.
That evening, Danny was surprised that he was having trouble sleeping. One day wasn't enough time to adjust to three time zones' difference. Sam had thoughtfully had Morgan buy a fresh bottle of Lagavulin, which was almost as good as the MacDonald's special pot-still whiskey, but even that wasn't putting him to sleep. Over the years, Danny had become used to sleeping in strange beds, but, for some reason, this one felt particularly big and particularly empty.
Friday, January 19; San Luis Obispo, CA;
Danny had never met Franklin Hollis or his wife, Sarita, but he had seen plenty of photos of them. He easily recognized the couple waiting for him as the helicopter that had picked him up at the little airport in Santa Monica.
The Hollises gave him a tour of the Hollis Foundation headquarters and of the Cal Poly campus before taking him out for a leisurely lunch. The three of them spent the afternoon driving around the town in order to give Danny an idea of what kinds of neighborhoods were available should he and CJ choose to live there.
It was interesting to watch Frank and Sarita from the back seat of the car. The two of them were truly in tune with each other, finishing each other's sentences and exchanging glances and little touches that made Danny feel lonely and like a fifth wheel at the same time.
Finally, the three of them went to the Frank and Sarita's house. Sarita excused herself, saying she had a few things to check before the others arrived, and left the two men sitting on the deck with a bottle of Pinot Noir and some cheese.
"So, what do you think? You could file your pieces from here as easily as from the paper's building."
Danny took a sip of his wine before answering.
"It's beautiful, especially after all the smog I've seen in LA these past two days."
"I sense a big 'but' at the end of that sentence," Frank observed.
"The thing is, she's going to be travelling all over the globe for you, except maybe to Antarctica. Somehow, I don't imagine there are many direct flights between San Luis Obispo and Timbuktu," Danny told him.
"No, there aren't. And although we do have several corporate jets, she couldn't use them all the time. But the same technology that would make it work for you here would also make it work for her in LA. I should know – I invented most of it, or at least my fellow employees did. So where the two of you live is entirely up to the two of you. I just wanted to present the option."
The doorbell rang.
"Well, that should be the first of the other Foundation staff members who wanted a chance to meet you. I told them it would be an early evening, so we'll have you back in LA by 9:00."
Saturday, January 20; Marina del Rey, CA
Waking up, Danny was very much aware of two things: he had a rampaging hard-on and there was no soft backside pressing against his groin that he could nudge into giving him access to a warm, moist, and clutching passage of relief. Apparently, two weeks was plenty of time to get used to getting it every day, especially with the right woman. Apparently, three days was too long to do without, even at his age.
After making coffee, Danny turned on the television to watch the inauguration festivities. He called CJ to find out where she would be so he could try to spot her and was a little disappointed that she would not be at the Capitol. Danny laughed when she told him about the great pissing contest between Sibley and Wilkins in the middle of an ice storm at New Hampshire-Massachusetts border and about Granny Ganja being on the pardon list. The two of them playfully debated pro versus con about CJ's weather – clear but cold and Danny's warm smog fest.
"I told Josh you'd be waiting for me tomorrow with a big tub of sunscreen."
"One more today, babe," Danny said. "I can't wait to see you."
That afternoon, he drove out to CJ's old house. She had arranged with the tenants to let him see the property.
He supposed it was okay, and he could see the CJ he first met on the campaign trail back in '98 living in a place like that, but somehow, it didn't seem like the woman who was just now leaving the White House for the last time as a staffer.
The couple who were renting the house was charming and polite. They were also obviously in love with the place.
"We'll miss it, of course," the man said, bending down to stroke the fur of one of the two Shiba Inus by his side.
"But we knew going into it that she would eventually return," said the woman. "I know you'll be happy here."
But Danny wasn't that sure. However, it was something that he knew he might need to accept if he were going to sign on to being Mr. CJ Cregg.
Sunday, January 21; 3:20 PM PST
"I checked with Josh, Danny. Whatever powers I had yesterday, he has now. Nothing is going out tonight, but they are clearing the runways. I'm confirmed on the first flight out in the morning, but it's coach and a middle seat."
"You didn't ask him to pull any strings?"
"Danny!"
"I'm joking, CJ! So, where are you staying for the night?" Danny asked.
"Right here. By the time I get back into the city, with all this snow, it would be time to turn around and get back out here again."
"What about Mitch? Could he come get you?"
"That's twice as far, although the roads might be in better shape. I'll just stay here in the airport, with all the other stranded passengers. I need to get used to being one of the common mass again. Miss you," CJ said with a sight sigh.
"And I miss you."
After disconnecting, Danny swore to himself. Right now, the smog looked pretty good compared to the snow storm that had paralyzed the DC area all day.
It took him about five minutes of internal fuming before he realized that even if CJ didn't want to pull any strings for herself, that didn't mean that he couldn't pull them himself. He started to call Josh, but then, stopped and called Frank Hollis.
No, Frank said, they didn't have a jet available in the DC area, and even if they did, his pilots wouldn't take off with the airports officially closed.
"But I can at least do something about making her more comfortable. She's at Dulles, right? What airline? Give me her number."
Danny called the resort in San Diego and let them know that he and CJ would not be arriving until the next day. Then, with unexpected and unwanted time on his hands, he decided to drive around LA and look at neighborhoods.
Two hours later, his phone rang.
"I should be mad at you, but thank you."
"For what, CJ?"
"For calling Franklin Hollis. I am now ensconced in American Airlines' Admirals Club, my membership having been paid for by the Foundation, in a nice padded recliner with a guest robe, toiletries, food, and liquor. Tomorrow morning, I will be checked in from here and escorted to my new seat in first class, after I have been awakened, able to shower, and treated to a good breakfast."
That evening, Danny realized that more than the sex, he missed her presence. He missed the sounds she made as she reviewed the papers Charlie had put in her brief case, wriggling her feet against his thigh and twisting a lock of her hair in her left hand. He missed the smear of lipstick she left on a drinking glass. He even missed the faint odor she left in the bathroom after using the commode.
Monday, January 22; LAX; 10:30 AM PDT
Danny waited at The American baggage claim, watching as the crowd of people came toward the carousels.
Suddenly, he saw CJ and started running toward her. CJ saw him and started running toward him.
As they met, his arms went around her and he buried his face in her neck, taking in the smell of her.
"Danny?"
"It's okay now, babe. It's all okay now."
"Come Monday, it'll be all right
Come Monday, I'll be holdin' you tight
I spent four lonely days in a brown L. A. haze
And I just want you back by my side."
Come Monday © 1974 Jimmy Buffett