Part Nine:
"My day just keeps getting better and better," CJ sighed, her words filled with sarcasm as she headed toward yet another postponed briefing.
"CJ, have you though of the possibility that the press may be alerted by the presence of the Secret Service at the door? They're going to wonder." Toby began, two agents falling in behind them as they arrived at the door.
"You can't hold my hand forever, Toby. And regardless of personal circumstance, I am first and foremost the Press Secretary for the President of the United States. I can do my job, Toby, don't worry about me in there. The press room is my playground."
He chuckled, "Well, play nice with the other children, Claudia Jean, it's them I'm worried about, not you." And CJ smiled in return, catching Toby's wink and shaking her head as she pushed herself into the room. "If you get the question." he began suddenly, a hand settling on the back of his neck.
"What question?" she asked, halting with the door halfway open, propped against a pump.
"The question," he replied, gesturing rather wildly.
"Toby," she sighed, hands on the door. "Am I missing a set of briefing notes? Has someone done something incredibly stupid that I'm not aware of? Because, you know, it appeared to me that the last three or four days have been pretty quiet on a national level." CJ rolled her eyes.
"The question regarding your being late or missing numerous times in the." he began after clearing his throat.
"The White House doesn't comment on the personal lives of the staff," she quoted, shot him a lopsided grin, and let the door close behind her.
Somehow, he pondered, she always managed to come out on top. Sometimes, her strength surprised him, and somehow, she always made him look on the upside of the negative, and the days ahead didn't look quite so bleak.
The two secret service agents propped the door open, settled themselves on opposite sides, and awaited her return.
Fifteen minutes later, CJ called for a full lid, exited the room, the two agents again falling in behind her, and ran, literally, into Toby.
"I don't know whether to feel honored that I have two agents and, well, you, or be offended by the fact that no one thinks I can take care of myself, which, by the way, two weeks ago I would have kicked your ass for, but today I'm not so sure about myself, or just claustrophobic."
"CJ." he began, his gaze scaring off Carol, who had begun to approach, with tissue in hand.
"Don't 'CJ' me, Toby. I know what it feels like to be drowning without water, Toby, gasping and flailing and all the rest," she paused, her voice having lowered as they entered her office, "it's not a feeling I'll likely ever forget."
Silence descended like vultures to carrion, and they settled on opposite sides of her desk. He watched her then, from the moment she sat and turned to him and locked their gazes, to when she broke the spell and turned her eyes to the floor. And, he did not move, waiting for her, as her eyes settled on a slightly darker patch of carpeting, stained by pH regulators and water treatments, and when her eyes closed, she saw orange and gold, but refused to admit that Gail was dead and likely flushed by the janitor.
"You were worried for nothing, Toby. I didn't get the question," she finally spoke. "If I thought I was going to, and I mean ever, damage this administration, I'd resign in a heartbeat."
Toby nodded almost indistinctly, "I know. You tried before, after."
"Yeah, the MS thing," her words were almost flippant, as she thoughtfully pondered over Gail and the possibility of a new fish. and aquarium. Sighing, CJ shook her head, mentally scolding herself for even thinking of replacing her. "I brought a disorganized schizophrenic. sociopath into all of our lives, Toby, someone whose capacity to endanger this administration and myself is... immeasurable, because we can't understand, we don't want to. That's different than making a mistake behind the podium or even lying some forty-thousand odd times in three years. A lot different," she blinked back the tears that threatened to well in her eyes from nothing but frustration.
"They'd never let you leave," he replied, huffing, still not admitting that it was he who would fight her leaving the most of all.
"I know that, too," she whispered, and he held her gaze still, even as she felt herself flailing in water that wasn't really there.
And again on Walsh Street, a man walked a well-worn patch of carpet, a mural of photographs suspended from the ceiling and cigarette smoke circling out the window. Tommy lit up when he was frustrated, but Neil smoked when he was plotting. Grinding out the fire against the window sill, his lips stretched into a grin when he heard her office door shut, signaling Toby's exit.
The buttons on the phone glowed a chartreuse shade as he began to dial.
"My day just keeps getting better and better," CJ sighed, her words filled with sarcasm as she headed toward yet another postponed briefing.
"CJ, have you though of the possibility that the press may be alerted by the presence of the Secret Service at the door? They're going to wonder." Toby began, two agents falling in behind them as they arrived at the door.
"You can't hold my hand forever, Toby. And regardless of personal circumstance, I am first and foremost the Press Secretary for the President of the United States. I can do my job, Toby, don't worry about me in there. The press room is my playground."
He chuckled, "Well, play nice with the other children, Claudia Jean, it's them I'm worried about, not you." And CJ smiled in return, catching Toby's wink and shaking her head as she pushed herself into the room. "If you get the question." he began suddenly, a hand settling on the back of his neck.
"What question?" she asked, halting with the door halfway open, propped against a pump.
"The question," he replied, gesturing rather wildly.
"Toby," she sighed, hands on the door. "Am I missing a set of briefing notes? Has someone done something incredibly stupid that I'm not aware of? Because, you know, it appeared to me that the last three or four days have been pretty quiet on a national level." CJ rolled her eyes.
"The question regarding your being late or missing numerous times in the." he began after clearing his throat.
"The White House doesn't comment on the personal lives of the staff," she quoted, shot him a lopsided grin, and let the door close behind her.
Somehow, he pondered, she always managed to come out on top. Sometimes, her strength surprised him, and somehow, she always made him look on the upside of the negative, and the days ahead didn't look quite so bleak.
The two secret service agents propped the door open, settled themselves on opposite sides, and awaited her return.
Fifteen minutes later, CJ called for a full lid, exited the room, the two agents again falling in behind her, and ran, literally, into Toby.
"I don't know whether to feel honored that I have two agents and, well, you, or be offended by the fact that no one thinks I can take care of myself, which, by the way, two weeks ago I would have kicked your ass for, but today I'm not so sure about myself, or just claustrophobic."
"CJ." he began, his gaze scaring off Carol, who had begun to approach, with tissue in hand.
"Don't 'CJ' me, Toby. I know what it feels like to be drowning without water, Toby, gasping and flailing and all the rest," she paused, her voice having lowered as they entered her office, "it's not a feeling I'll likely ever forget."
Silence descended like vultures to carrion, and they settled on opposite sides of her desk. He watched her then, from the moment she sat and turned to him and locked their gazes, to when she broke the spell and turned her eyes to the floor. And, he did not move, waiting for her, as her eyes settled on a slightly darker patch of carpeting, stained by pH regulators and water treatments, and when her eyes closed, she saw orange and gold, but refused to admit that Gail was dead and likely flushed by the janitor.
"You were worried for nothing, Toby. I didn't get the question," she finally spoke. "If I thought I was going to, and I mean ever, damage this administration, I'd resign in a heartbeat."
Toby nodded almost indistinctly, "I know. You tried before, after."
"Yeah, the MS thing," her words were almost flippant, as she thoughtfully pondered over Gail and the possibility of a new fish. and aquarium. Sighing, CJ shook her head, mentally scolding herself for even thinking of replacing her. "I brought a disorganized schizophrenic. sociopath into all of our lives, Toby, someone whose capacity to endanger this administration and myself is... immeasurable, because we can't understand, we don't want to. That's different than making a mistake behind the podium or even lying some forty-thousand odd times in three years. A lot different," she blinked back the tears that threatened to well in her eyes from nothing but frustration.
"They'd never let you leave," he replied, huffing, still not admitting that it was he who would fight her leaving the most of all.
"I know that, too," she whispered, and he held her gaze still, even as she felt herself flailing in water that wasn't really there.
And again on Walsh Street, a man walked a well-worn patch of carpet, a mural of photographs suspended from the ceiling and cigarette smoke circling out the window. Tommy lit up when he was frustrated, but Neil smoked when he was plotting. Grinding out the fire against the window sill, his lips stretched into a grin when he heard her office door shut, signaling Toby's exit.
The buttons on the phone glowed a chartreuse shade as he began to dial.
