Title: Tired
Author: IDreamOfAJ
Email: gmlsinaz@juno.com
Pairing: CJ/Toby
Spoilers: Manchester Part I (But only in a vague sort of way.)
Rating: R (I would say it's the lowest possible R available.)
Summary: She's tired.
Author's note: This was for Angie and A-K. The got me to post for the first time. And sucked me into the drug that is fanfiction. ; )
This story takes place after Manchester Part I. It's not a happy story. And although I adore Toby and CJ, I'm not entirely sure I even like them in this thing.
Disclaimers: If I had any rights to The West Wing whatsoever do you really think I'd be posting fanfic?
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Tired
She is sitting at a corner table in a dark, run-down bar. The sign outside had said "Buddy's". She's gone two towns over to find some anonymity. She feels she just might have succeeded.
She's tired. Of everything. Not least of all the pretence that everything is just fine, thank you very much.
She is not alone at the table. There is a man on her left who claims his name is Jeff. Big and clumsy looking, he has his arm around the back of her chair. On her right is a thin man who is probably in his late forties, with hungry eyes. He said his name was Mac. She believed him. He's not as subtle as "Jeff". His hand is resting heavily on her thigh. She hasn't given them her name.
She's drunk. And she's not alone in that either. The rounds have been delivered more times than she can remember. She felt slightly rebellious when she ordered that first scotch. His drink. But now it's only the alcohol that concerns her.
She's trying to come to a decision. Not the weighty one that has been haunting her for the last two months. No. A much more pressing need. She's deciding which of these men she'll take back to the hotel she saw three blocks down. She thinks maybe she won't decide. She'll just take them both back with her.
And that's when the door opens.
He takes in the dim lighting and the smoke hanging like a fog. He does a quick scan of the room and takes a seat at the bar. He orders a scotch. Takes out a cigar and lights it. He keeps his back to her.
He's been here before. Many times over. Not in this particular bar, but in the same place. Near her, waiting for her to stop running. Her hiding places have varied greatly through the years. He muses that sunny California suited her best.
She had known the moment the door opened that it was him. Despite the fact that her corner table didn't afford a direct view of the door. There was a charge to the air. She had sighed. She thought it would take him a bit longer. This time.
She waits a few minutes. Gives herself a moment to adjust to this change in plans. She downs the last of her drink and stands. She leaves Mac and "Jeff" disappointed.
She's standing behind him at the bar now. He can feel her breath on the top of his head. He'll let her speak first.
She waits for an acknowledgement of her presence. He gives no sign that he's aware of her. She can wait.
Except that she can't. She gives in and speaks first.
"So. You found me."
"Yes."
"What are. ? Okay."
He puts more money on the bar than is strictly necessary. He takes her by the wrist and leads her outside. She looks around for his car.
"I took a cab," he answers the unasked question.
He holds out his hand for the keys to her rental. She makes a show of looking through her purse for the keys. But really, she's just buying time. She doesn't think she's ready to be confined with him just yet. She takes a deep breath and hands him the keys.
There is silence in the car. Before, when they were younger, there would have been a discussion. Maybe even tears. But they've said all there is to say on the subject. So she stares out the window at the trees and imagines herself being lost in a forest.
He parks the car at their hotel and checks his watch. It's not yet late. The others are probably still up. Arguing. He plans the route that will get them to her room without being seen. He doesn't think she's ready for that.
He opens her car door and again takes her by the wrist. He leads her up the stairs and actually gives a little sigh of relief when her door closes.
He searches her face for contrition. He sees none. He finds only the resignation he fears is coming any day now.
She strips off her clothes quickly and lies naked on top of the bedspread. She stares at the ceiling. Waiting.
He undresses slowly. Gives her time. When he sits on the bed next to her he thinks to himself that she looks tired.
Their joining is not sweet and romantic. Nor is it even remotely passionate. Their rhythm is born more from habit than desire. Neither of them makes a sound upon their release.
After, they lay on their backs side by side. Not touching. A single tear sneaks it's way down her face and into her ear. It tickles, but she doesn't move. When several minutes have gone by in silence she speaks.
"You shouldn't have come."
"No?"
"No. I'm telling him tomorrow. I'm leaving right after. Right after the rally's over."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He turns over to face her. He brushes the hair from her face.
"I don't think you're really going. I don't think you even want to go."
She tries to ignore him. She thinks about where she'll go. What she'll do. And she thinks about how long it will take for him to come after her this time.
It's a pattern for them, she realizes. Like a twisted, sad version of a game from her childhood. She hides, he seeks. No matter how many times she has run, he has always found her. He's the only one who has. A couple of times it took him longer to come for her. He did take the time to get married. And left her waiting in Los Angeles for a couple of years. But eventually he got there and brought her back with him.
She wonders why he does this. But then she remembers that he's seen the scars. And she remembers the whispered promises made almost twenty years ago. It feels like more than a lifetime has passed since then.
"Toby, I need you to promise me that you won't come after me this time."
"I can't do that, CJ. You know that."
"Why?"
"Because it's. . It's what I do. Try to get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
He rolls over onto his back and closes his eyes. She turns on her side so she can watch him sleep. She thinks of places she can go where he won't be able to find her.
She's tired. Tired of him saving her from herself.
The End
Author: IDreamOfAJ
Email: gmlsinaz@juno.com
Pairing: CJ/Toby
Spoilers: Manchester Part I (But only in a vague sort of way.)
Rating: R (I would say it's the lowest possible R available.)
Summary: She's tired.
Author's note: This was for Angie and A-K. The got me to post for the first time. And sucked me into the drug that is fanfiction. ; )
This story takes place after Manchester Part I. It's not a happy story. And although I adore Toby and CJ, I'm not entirely sure I even like them in this thing.
Disclaimers: If I had any rights to The West Wing whatsoever do you really think I'd be posting fanfic?
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Tired
She is sitting at a corner table in a dark, run-down bar. The sign outside had said "Buddy's". She's gone two towns over to find some anonymity. She feels she just might have succeeded.
She's tired. Of everything. Not least of all the pretence that everything is just fine, thank you very much.
She is not alone at the table. There is a man on her left who claims his name is Jeff. Big and clumsy looking, he has his arm around the back of her chair. On her right is a thin man who is probably in his late forties, with hungry eyes. He said his name was Mac. She believed him. He's not as subtle as "Jeff". His hand is resting heavily on her thigh. She hasn't given them her name.
She's drunk. And she's not alone in that either. The rounds have been delivered more times than she can remember. She felt slightly rebellious when she ordered that first scotch. His drink. But now it's only the alcohol that concerns her.
She's trying to come to a decision. Not the weighty one that has been haunting her for the last two months. No. A much more pressing need. She's deciding which of these men she'll take back to the hotel she saw three blocks down. She thinks maybe she won't decide. She'll just take them both back with her.
And that's when the door opens.
He takes in the dim lighting and the smoke hanging like a fog. He does a quick scan of the room and takes a seat at the bar. He orders a scotch. Takes out a cigar and lights it. He keeps his back to her.
He's been here before. Many times over. Not in this particular bar, but in the same place. Near her, waiting for her to stop running. Her hiding places have varied greatly through the years. He muses that sunny California suited her best.
She had known the moment the door opened that it was him. Despite the fact that her corner table didn't afford a direct view of the door. There was a charge to the air. She had sighed. She thought it would take him a bit longer. This time.
She waits a few minutes. Gives herself a moment to adjust to this change in plans. She downs the last of her drink and stands. She leaves Mac and "Jeff" disappointed.
She's standing behind him at the bar now. He can feel her breath on the top of his head. He'll let her speak first.
She waits for an acknowledgement of her presence. He gives no sign that he's aware of her. She can wait.
Except that she can't. She gives in and speaks first.
"So. You found me."
"Yes."
"What are. ? Okay."
He puts more money on the bar than is strictly necessary. He takes her by the wrist and leads her outside. She looks around for his car.
"I took a cab," he answers the unasked question.
He holds out his hand for the keys to her rental. She makes a show of looking through her purse for the keys. But really, she's just buying time. She doesn't think she's ready to be confined with him just yet. She takes a deep breath and hands him the keys.
There is silence in the car. Before, when they were younger, there would have been a discussion. Maybe even tears. But they've said all there is to say on the subject. So she stares out the window at the trees and imagines herself being lost in a forest.
He parks the car at their hotel and checks his watch. It's not yet late. The others are probably still up. Arguing. He plans the route that will get them to her room without being seen. He doesn't think she's ready for that.
He opens her car door and again takes her by the wrist. He leads her up the stairs and actually gives a little sigh of relief when her door closes.
He searches her face for contrition. He sees none. He finds only the resignation he fears is coming any day now.
She strips off her clothes quickly and lies naked on top of the bedspread. She stares at the ceiling. Waiting.
He undresses slowly. Gives her time. When he sits on the bed next to her he thinks to himself that she looks tired.
Their joining is not sweet and romantic. Nor is it even remotely passionate. Their rhythm is born more from habit than desire. Neither of them makes a sound upon their release.
After, they lay on their backs side by side. Not touching. A single tear sneaks it's way down her face and into her ear. It tickles, but she doesn't move. When several minutes have gone by in silence she speaks.
"You shouldn't have come."
"No?"
"No. I'm telling him tomorrow. I'm leaving right after. Right after the rally's over."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He turns over to face her. He brushes the hair from her face.
"I don't think you're really going. I don't think you even want to go."
She tries to ignore him. She thinks about where she'll go. What she'll do. And she thinks about how long it will take for him to come after her this time.
It's a pattern for them, she realizes. Like a twisted, sad version of a game from her childhood. She hides, he seeks. No matter how many times she has run, he has always found her. He's the only one who has. A couple of times it took him longer to come for her. He did take the time to get married. And left her waiting in Los Angeles for a couple of years. But eventually he got there and brought her back with him.
She wonders why he does this. But then she remembers that he's seen the scars. And she remembers the whispered promises made almost twenty years ago. It feels like more than a lifetime has passed since then.
"Toby, I need you to promise me that you won't come after me this time."
"I can't do that, CJ. You know that."
"Why?"
"Because it's. . It's what I do. Try to get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
He rolls over onto his back and closes his eyes. She turns on her side so she can watch him sleep. She thinks of places she can go where he won't be able to find her.
She's tired. Tired of him saving her from herself.
The End