TITLE: Back Roads: Barely in Belief
AUTHOR: Kansas J. Miller
PAIRING: CJ/Carol
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: I wasn't sure that I could take another shock, and as I sat staring back at CJ's lined and tired face, I wondered when I'd regain control of my jaw
SPOILERS: "Enemies Foreign and Domestic"
***
I was thinking about New Hampshire today, wondering if the trees were in full bloom yet. The end of April and the beginning of May used to be the most beautiful time of year in Nashua, unless you asked my mother. She loved the crazy fall foliage and the blinding snow that sometimes came as early as October. She liked to bundle up in a big sweater and two pairs of socks, and she wasn't afraid of the icy roads. I lived for the spring, which would inevitably fade into a gorgeous summer. But we were always different like that.
I spoke to my mother on Sunday night and while the conversation was extremely stilted, it was a conversation nonetheless. She wouldn't—couldn't—say the words; she wouldn't admit to herself that her own daughter was gay. The conversation didn't even touch that; it was ignored. My mother acted as if I had never offered her my most personal truth, though the catch in her voice told me that her heart was broken. As well, her blinders to acceptance were on—silent and piercing. But she spoke to me, and that was more than I'd expected.
She told me about her latest patients at the hospital and talked about my father's newest projects at his construction company. She told me about her friends and how all of the nurses from the hospital were taking a trip to New York in May. But she couldn't say the words that were on both of our minds.
The closest we came to talking about it came at the end of the conversation. "Carol, whoever you're with, I want you to be happy."
"Yeah, Mom. I'm happy," I replied, not sure if she knew that our definitions of 'happy' were different. Always different. Never the same. We were never the same and never would be.
She didn't accept it; she didn't want to acknowledge it. She couldn't agree with the idea of two women loving each other, just as she loved my father. But she wanted me to be happy, and wasn't that enough?
No, it wasn't enough. But it was all there was. I had to live my own life, and she had to live hers. CJ kept asking me what it mattered that my mother—miles away from here—didn't approve of whom I loved. I hadn't been able to come up with an answer to that. I wanted her approval, though I knew I'd never have it. It was a paradox, and unless I changed my mother without changing myself, it would remain so.
***
Monday wasn't a good day. CJ literally went off on the Press Corp. Granted she had every right to, although technically… she didn't. I knew CJ would take some heat for it, but it wasn't enough to warm away the chills her stone cold voice had brought to my spine. She had been absolutely ruthless, the low-toned sarcasm more powerful than all of the screaming and yelling in the world.
Leo didn't like it—that much I heard through Donna, from Josh. But it was CJ. And CJ has no tolerance for the way they treat women in the Mid- East. She simply wouldn't stand by and keep her mouth closed, especially when there was such a big microphone in front of her every day. Leo didn't come by, and for that much, I respected the man. He knew where the line was drawn with CJ.
I shared in CJ's feelings, though I wasn't so passionate, so explicitly angry when I heard of news like the Saudi fire. I couldn't really do much, but CJ was a force, a face you did not want to get in. I stayed quiet about the subject, knowing words from me wouldn't make CJ any less angry, any less hurt by the ignorance of the world.
I was sad for CJ, too, not because she had the guts to say what she felt was right, but because no one ever seemed to hear her. Everyone's first concern was if she'd pissed off Saudi Arabia, hurt some fragile feelings that would lead to greater tension. I only shook my head in disbelief; there was not a thing in the world that could make Middle Eastern tension any heavier; there was not a thing CJ could scream at the top of her lungs that would make it worse. Of course, some part of me knew that CJ couldn't make it better, either. She only hurt herself I know she won't stop trying.
***
Monday got worse before it got better. Angry faxes and annoyed e-mail poured in, but I didn't know about the death threat until Donna came to me in the early evening.
"Carol," Donna whispered loudly, shaking me out of my concentration. I turned around to find her, wide-eyed and curious at my door. "What did the Secret Service guy say?"
I raised an eyebrow, ready to laugh at Donna's urgent tone. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Josh had me call Jack Kinney. They said he was coming up to see CJ about her e-mail. I just wanted to know what happened," Donna explained quickly, looking suspiciously at CJ's closed door.
"Yeah, I still have no idea what you're talking about, Donna," I said, the humor gone from my attitude. Donna's tone and her serious countenance had me suddenly concerned.
"CJ didn't show you the death threat she got in her e-mail?" Donna asked in surprise, leaning forward towards me as her tone dropped even lower.
"No!" I said with force, shocked at the revelation. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, instantly annoyed that CJ had not, in fact, shared the e-mail with me.
"Yeah, a couple hours ago, we were going to go out for yogurt. CJ mentioned her e-mail and showed me one in particular. She wasn't taking it seriously, so I told Josh," Donna filled me in, shaking her head with authority.
I sat back in my chair and turned away, a bit upset and baffled. "I had no idea…"
Donna touched my shoulder. "Don't worry about it," she said softly. "I thought you knew, that's all."
I looked up at Donna, sure that I should have known. "Thanks," I said with a sigh, feeling fiercely protective of CJ and angry with her all in one flash. "I guess know now."
***
When I arrived at the office on Tuesday morning, someone was in CJ's office tinkering with her computer while she looked on, clearly uneasy.
"What's going on?" I whispered loudly, coming up behind CJ. She spun around quickly as surprise registered on her face.
"Where the hell did you go last night? I was looking for you!" CJ cried, keeping her voice intentionally lower for the man behind the desk.
I swallowed, positioning myself to hold ground. "I went home," I said in the sturdiest voice I had, knowing the conversation wasn't over. CJ's eyes crinkled as she narrowed her eyebrows in concern.
Leaning forward a bit, her face too close to mine, she bit her lip. "You didn't want to see me last night?"
Her tone wasn't angry, but briefly accusatory before it turned into hurt. I sucked in a breath, prepared to lay it out. At the last minute, I took a different path. "Yeah, and it was totally immature. Don't worry about it."
"I'm through with your computer now, Ms. Cregg. Sorry for the interruption," the man behind CJ's desk said as he stood up. Politely nodding as he left, CJ barely acknowledged the man before turning back to me.
"I do worry about it," CJ said vehemently, frowning as I stepped past her and moved towards the desk.
"I want to see this death threat that Donna told me about," I announced, brushing away her concern, aware and resolute of the fact that if I couldn't say it, CJ wasn't going to read my mind.
***
On Wednesday, CJ was eerily quiet, especially after her meeting in the Oval Office. By lunchtime, on the third day of this week of insane weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. I entered her office unannounced, and knowing CJ was alone, spoke right up.
"CJ, you have to tell me what's going on. And I mean RIGHT NOW," I said, my eyes surely flashing a warning.
CJ's mouth dropped a little, but she shut her notebook and watched me sit down. I felt a little guilty, as she looked sweet and somewhat vulnerable in the white suit she'd worn to work. I waited on her reaction, wondering what was going on in her mind.
"Yeah, Carol, I don't know how this is going to play out, but it's not going to be smooth sailing from here," CJ finally smirked, shaking her head in a quiet disbelief.
"What do you mean?" I asked, propelling my body forward with a desperation that I could feel in my toes.
CJ was staring at her desk, but quickly recovered. "The President is assigning me Secret Service protection," she said bluntly, the edges of her eyes smudging black as she rubbed vigorously.
I was dumbfounded, formerly unaware that this situation was so serious. I knew I was sitting openmouthed like an idiot, but each time I searched for the right words, I came up blank. CJ shook her head again, still rubbing her eyes.
"I know what you're thinking—that there isn't a threat. But there were…there were these pictures," CJ said, her voice barely audible, her tone barely there. "I had no choice," she finally added, not looking at me, but at her lap.
"CJ…" stuttered, thoroughly rocked with the fear that someone could be stalking her so closely. "Oh my God."
"I don't want it…" CJ looked out the window, unwilling to meet my eyes. Her voice had grown emotionless, a sure sign that she was hiding so much of it. "You know what this means, don't you?"
I swallowed hard, still fighting to process all of the new information I had to take in. "Well it means a lot of things," I said through my closing throat. "I mean, God, you have to take the protection, CJ."
"I am," she brushed away the thought with her hand. For another moment, CJ sat staring out the window, and suddenly she swiveled her chair towards me. Gesturing between us, CJ met my eyes. "Carol, we're not going to be able to do this for a while."
I wasn't sure that I could take another shock, and as I sat staring back at CJ's lined and tired face, I wondered when I'd regain control of my jaw. "What?" I managed, feeling numb through and through.
CJ had channeled her professionalism and folded her arms in a very authoritative manner. "First of all, I am not putting you in any danger that is meant for ME. I'm just not going to do that to you. Second, Carol, no one can know about us," CJ practically spat, rolling her eyes as though I'd overlooked an obvious two plus two equation.
As paralyzing as our exchange had left me, I still forced out a defense. "That makes no sense to me, CJ. Who cares if a Secret Service agent knows that you're fucking another woman!?"
A quick flash of hurt crossed CJ's features, but no deeper than the hurt running around my head. She raised her chin up in defiance. "Carol, if someone can take pictures of me walking out of my apartment, they can certainly catch other things on film. I don't want this in the newspaper, and if you don't understand the importance of that…"
"I understand it fine, CJ," I shot, standing up. "But you're not scaring me away so easily. Get a grip and let me know when you do."
With that, and more forced bravado than I really had, I turned away from CJ. I shut the heavy door behind me with more bang than was necessary, simultaneously proud and ashamed of what I'd just done.
I stood, my back against the silent door, for five long minutes. Running my fingers quickly through my hair, I looked around and took a deep breath. Barely in belief of this day, this situation, of myself, I swallowed resolutely. Fine, I decided with a sardonic smirk, I understand it fine. *
AUTHOR: Kansas J. Miller
PAIRING: CJ/Carol
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: I wasn't sure that I could take another shock, and as I sat staring back at CJ's lined and tired face, I wondered when I'd regain control of my jaw
SPOILERS: "Enemies Foreign and Domestic"
***
I was thinking about New Hampshire today, wondering if the trees were in full bloom yet. The end of April and the beginning of May used to be the most beautiful time of year in Nashua, unless you asked my mother. She loved the crazy fall foliage and the blinding snow that sometimes came as early as October. She liked to bundle up in a big sweater and two pairs of socks, and she wasn't afraid of the icy roads. I lived for the spring, which would inevitably fade into a gorgeous summer. But we were always different like that.
I spoke to my mother on Sunday night and while the conversation was extremely stilted, it was a conversation nonetheless. She wouldn't—couldn't—say the words; she wouldn't admit to herself that her own daughter was gay. The conversation didn't even touch that; it was ignored. My mother acted as if I had never offered her my most personal truth, though the catch in her voice told me that her heart was broken. As well, her blinders to acceptance were on—silent and piercing. But she spoke to me, and that was more than I'd expected.
She told me about her latest patients at the hospital and talked about my father's newest projects at his construction company. She told me about her friends and how all of the nurses from the hospital were taking a trip to New York in May. But she couldn't say the words that were on both of our minds.
The closest we came to talking about it came at the end of the conversation. "Carol, whoever you're with, I want you to be happy."
"Yeah, Mom. I'm happy," I replied, not sure if she knew that our definitions of 'happy' were different. Always different. Never the same. We were never the same and never would be.
She didn't accept it; she didn't want to acknowledge it. She couldn't agree with the idea of two women loving each other, just as she loved my father. But she wanted me to be happy, and wasn't that enough?
No, it wasn't enough. But it was all there was. I had to live my own life, and she had to live hers. CJ kept asking me what it mattered that my mother—miles away from here—didn't approve of whom I loved. I hadn't been able to come up with an answer to that. I wanted her approval, though I knew I'd never have it. It was a paradox, and unless I changed my mother without changing myself, it would remain so.
***
Monday wasn't a good day. CJ literally went off on the Press Corp. Granted she had every right to, although technically… she didn't. I knew CJ would take some heat for it, but it wasn't enough to warm away the chills her stone cold voice had brought to my spine. She had been absolutely ruthless, the low-toned sarcasm more powerful than all of the screaming and yelling in the world.
Leo didn't like it—that much I heard through Donna, from Josh. But it was CJ. And CJ has no tolerance for the way they treat women in the Mid- East. She simply wouldn't stand by and keep her mouth closed, especially when there was such a big microphone in front of her every day. Leo didn't come by, and for that much, I respected the man. He knew where the line was drawn with CJ.
I shared in CJ's feelings, though I wasn't so passionate, so explicitly angry when I heard of news like the Saudi fire. I couldn't really do much, but CJ was a force, a face you did not want to get in. I stayed quiet about the subject, knowing words from me wouldn't make CJ any less angry, any less hurt by the ignorance of the world.
I was sad for CJ, too, not because she had the guts to say what she felt was right, but because no one ever seemed to hear her. Everyone's first concern was if she'd pissed off Saudi Arabia, hurt some fragile feelings that would lead to greater tension. I only shook my head in disbelief; there was not a thing in the world that could make Middle Eastern tension any heavier; there was not a thing CJ could scream at the top of her lungs that would make it worse. Of course, some part of me knew that CJ couldn't make it better, either. She only hurt herself I know she won't stop trying.
***
Monday got worse before it got better. Angry faxes and annoyed e-mail poured in, but I didn't know about the death threat until Donna came to me in the early evening.
"Carol," Donna whispered loudly, shaking me out of my concentration. I turned around to find her, wide-eyed and curious at my door. "What did the Secret Service guy say?"
I raised an eyebrow, ready to laugh at Donna's urgent tone. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Josh had me call Jack Kinney. They said he was coming up to see CJ about her e-mail. I just wanted to know what happened," Donna explained quickly, looking suspiciously at CJ's closed door.
"Yeah, I still have no idea what you're talking about, Donna," I said, the humor gone from my attitude. Donna's tone and her serious countenance had me suddenly concerned.
"CJ didn't show you the death threat she got in her e-mail?" Donna asked in surprise, leaning forward towards me as her tone dropped even lower.
"No!" I said with force, shocked at the revelation. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, instantly annoyed that CJ had not, in fact, shared the e-mail with me.
"Yeah, a couple hours ago, we were going to go out for yogurt. CJ mentioned her e-mail and showed me one in particular. She wasn't taking it seriously, so I told Josh," Donna filled me in, shaking her head with authority.
I sat back in my chair and turned away, a bit upset and baffled. "I had no idea…"
Donna touched my shoulder. "Don't worry about it," she said softly. "I thought you knew, that's all."
I looked up at Donna, sure that I should have known. "Thanks," I said with a sigh, feeling fiercely protective of CJ and angry with her all in one flash. "I guess know now."
***
When I arrived at the office on Tuesday morning, someone was in CJ's office tinkering with her computer while she looked on, clearly uneasy.
"What's going on?" I whispered loudly, coming up behind CJ. She spun around quickly as surprise registered on her face.
"Where the hell did you go last night? I was looking for you!" CJ cried, keeping her voice intentionally lower for the man behind the desk.
I swallowed, positioning myself to hold ground. "I went home," I said in the sturdiest voice I had, knowing the conversation wasn't over. CJ's eyes crinkled as she narrowed her eyebrows in concern.
Leaning forward a bit, her face too close to mine, she bit her lip. "You didn't want to see me last night?"
Her tone wasn't angry, but briefly accusatory before it turned into hurt. I sucked in a breath, prepared to lay it out. At the last minute, I took a different path. "Yeah, and it was totally immature. Don't worry about it."
"I'm through with your computer now, Ms. Cregg. Sorry for the interruption," the man behind CJ's desk said as he stood up. Politely nodding as he left, CJ barely acknowledged the man before turning back to me.
"I do worry about it," CJ said vehemently, frowning as I stepped past her and moved towards the desk.
"I want to see this death threat that Donna told me about," I announced, brushing away her concern, aware and resolute of the fact that if I couldn't say it, CJ wasn't going to read my mind.
***
On Wednesday, CJ was eerily quiet, especially after her meeting in the Oval Office. By lunchtime, on the third day of this week of insane weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. I entered her office unannounced, and knowing CJ was alone, spoke right up.
"CJ, you have to tell me what's going on. And I mean RIGHT NOW," I said, my eyes surely flashing a warning.
CJ's mouth dropped a little, but she shut her notebook and watched me sit down. I felt a little guilty, as she looked sweet and somewhat vulnerable in the white suit she'd worn to work. I waited on her reaction, wondering what was going on in her mind.
"Yeah, Carol, I don't know how this is going to play out, but it's not going to be smooth sailing from here," CJ finally smirked, shaking her head in a quiet disbelief.
"What do you mean?" I asked, propelling my body forward with a desperation that I could feel in my toes.
CJ was staring at her desk, but quickly recovered. "The President is assigning me Secret Service protection," she said bluntly, the edges of her eyes smudging black as she rubbed vigorously.
I was dumbfounded, formerly unaware that this situation was so serious. I knew I was sitting openmouthed like an idiot, but each time I searched for the right words, I came up blank. CJ shook her head again, still rubbing her eyes.
"I know what you're thinking—that there isn't a threat. But there were…there were these pictures," CJ said, her voice barely audible, her tone barely there. "I had no choice," she finally added, not looking at me, but at her lap.
"CJ…" stuttered, thoroughly rocked with the fear that someone could be stalking her so closely. "Oh my God."
"I don't want it…" CJ looked out the window, unwilling to meet my eyes. Her voice had grown emotionless, a sure sign that she was hiding so much of it. "You know what this means, don't you?"
I swallowed hard, still fighting to process all of the new information I had to take in. "Well it means a lot of things," I said through my closing throat. "I mean, God, you have to take the protection, CJ."
"I am," she brushed away the thought with her hand. For another moment, CJ sat staring out the window, and suddenly she swiveled her chair towards me. Gesturing between us, CJ met my eyes. "Carol, we're not going to be able to do this for a while."
I wasn't sure that I could take another shock, and as I sat staring back at CJ's lined and tired face, I wondered when I'd regain control of my jaw. "What?" I managed, feeling numb through and through.
CJ had channeled her professionalism and folded her arms in a very authoritative manner. "First of all, I am not putting you in any danger that is meant for ME. I'm just not going to do that to you. Second, Carol, no one can know about us," CJ practically spat, rolling her eyes as though I'd overlooked an obvious two plus two equation.
As paralyzing as our exchange had left me, I still forced out a defense. "That makes no sense to me, CJ. Who cares if a Secret Service agent knows that you're fucking another woman!?"
A quick flash of hurt crossed CJ's features, but no deeper than the hurt running around my head. She raised her chin up in defiance. "Carol, if someone can take pictures of me walking out of my apartment, they can certainly catch other things on film. I don't want this in the newspaper, and if you don't understand the importance of that…"
"I understand it fine, CJ," I shot, standing up. "But you're not scaring me away so easily. Get a grip and let me know when you do."
With that, and more forced bravado than I really had, I turned away from CJ. I shut the heavy door behind me with more bang than was necessary, simultaneously proud and ashamed of what I'd just done.
I stood, my back against the silent door, for five long minutes. Running my fingers quickly through my hair, I looked around and took a deep breath. Barely in belief of this day, this situation, of myself, I swallowed resolutely. Fine, I decided with a sardonic smirk, I understand it fine. *