Red Moon, by Sid
Category: Manchester 1 post-ep, CJ/Sam
Rating: R for language and sexual situations
Summary: Got what you wanted, oh--very nice, but every kiss must have a price.
Disclaimer: Um, lemme check. Okay, no, these characters aren't mine.
Author's note: This story is a sequel to Jess's magnificent story 'Flesh'. Please read that first, because it's muy fabuloso and this one will make more sense.
Thanks: To Jess, for letting me tell Sam's side :)
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I wake to a sharp ray of sunlight cascading through the heavy drapes in my hotel room and landing directly in my eyes. Immediately I register three separate, yet equally powerful, sensations: One--the lingering taste of tequila; Two--the thick shag carpet that seems to have grown in my mouth overnight; Three--the pounding in my head akin to the pounding of a jackhammer against the pavement.
Oh God...My head...
Jesus...
I glance over at the clock. Shit. I have to be downstairs and ready to check out in less than an hour. I'll never make it.
Okay, give me a minute. Hang on, hang on. I can do this.
Oh God...my head...No thoughts in it, just pain. Lots of pain.
Shit. Phone. Too loud, too loud. Must stop sound.
"H'lo?"
"You seen CJ?"
The voice is vaguely familiar. A name floats to the surface of my brain. "Josh?"
"Yeah. You seen CJ?" He sounds...something. Can't think of the word just now.
"Um...lemme see..." Okay, brain, do your stuff. Start working for me, baby, come on. You can do it--think. Think. Have I seen CJ? Have to think! "Ah, no. No, I haven't." At least, not this morning. But there's something nagging at the edges of my cloudy brain--a thought, almost a memory.
"I was just wondering," Josh says. "She hasn't come down yet, and she didn't answer the phone in her room. We were supposed to have breakfast."
"Was I supposed to be there?" I ask, fervently hoping the answer is 'no'. I really don't think I can handle getting out of this bed yet, let alone facing bacon and eggs.
"No," he chuckles in response. "Just me and CJ. But listen--I'm starving. I can't wait for her any longer. If you see her, will you tell her I went to that diner on the corner with Leo?"
My brain is slowly unraveling from its previous fetal position. Thoughts are beginning to crawl through my head. "Sure," I answer confidently.
"Okay, 'cause last night she looked...you know, not so good."
The memory-thought bobs to the surface again, sinking back down below the hungover depths of my mind, but I'm catching flashes of something...something. "Not so good," I repeat like an idiot. I have no brain power to form a real reply; I'm too busy concentrating on hooking that thought and reeling it back in. It's something to do with CJ, I know that much."
"You know, at that pool place...She left early. I thought maybe you went after her, but then we didn't see either of you after that, so we figured you'd both just gone--"
I run a hand through my hair and squint, surveying the room around me with curiosity. There's a lingering scent of perfume that's familiar somehow. I sit up in bed then, the sheet falling past my waist.
Okay. Um, I have no clothes on. In fact, I'm downright naked.
And there's lipstick on my--
Never mind.
And there's an earring on the pillow next to me.
It's CJ's earring. Yes, it is most definitely CJ's earring.
Oh yeah. It's all coming back to me now, every second of last night is playing in my memory as clear as anything at the multi-plex. I hang up on Josh in mid-prattle as the London fog clears from my head, leaving every thought as clear and crisp as a winter's day in DC.
CJ was here--in my room. The two of us were here. We drank and talked and laughed, and somehow during the night, my hand wound up on her thigh. And then her hand was on my waist and we were admitting that we weren't in love but that sex would be nice. Comfort sex. Or, as CJ put it, "mindless, no-strings-attached sex". And that's all I thought it would be--two people in a room, forgetting themselves and the world outsidei n a harmless, hopefully-pleasurable act. No big deal.
That's what I thought anyway. I had no idea it would turn into the most amazing, mind-blowing, *sexiest* sex I've ever had. I remember it all so clearly: CJ and her smell of spices and tequila--her bubbling laughter--her soft hands on my stomach--her long legs wrapped around my waist. It was just--wow.
Blood rushes south from my head and I start to feel a little dizzy.
I get up then, and my legs are a little wobbly, but I feel fine otherwise. Well, fine apart from the headache surging like water in a whirlpool. Vital stats are as follows--head: hurting, mouth: disgusting, stomach: dodgy, knees: unstable. I'm in fairly good shape actually. The Seaborns can hold their liquor, but I must admit tequila is my alcoholic Waterloo.
I reach down and pick up the earring CJ left behind. It's a tiny silver hoop and I suddenly remember it scraping against my face as I nibbled on her neck.
CJ.
She left me after we--after what we shared. Oh God, that sounds so damn sappy. Just say it, Seaborn--She left me after we had sex. That's what you do after a one-night stand. Isn't it?
Well, I don't actually know. I've never had one. I mean, I talked a big talk last night about how we were both angry and lost and available, but inside I was scared shitless. What the hell was a guy like me doing propositioning a woman like CJ Cregg? Where did I find the nerve?
I mean, I've always found her attractive. What sane man wouldn't? The mind, the face, the elegance, they make up on awe-inspiring woman. Plus, you know, those legs. But have I ever actually been attracted *to* her? Probably not. Probably because she's always treated me like the pesky kid next door, and that is far from a turn-on. Also she intimidates me in many ways. So yeah, I thought she was gorgeous, but no, I never considered *being* with her.
Okay, yes, I considered sleeping with her. I'm a guy, dammit! But-- anything more? Definitely not.
Not that I am now, you understand. I'm just remembering the sex.
The great sex.
...And the sadness in her eyes.
...And the way she laughed at me when I slurred on the word 'effervescence'.
...And her startling ability to argue with me while three sheets to the wind and pressing kisses to my neck.
God. CJ.
We've both been so goddamn lost lately. For a while we were snapping at one another like wild dogs, as if we recognized the other's hurt and frustration, but couldn't do anything beyond react like positive and negative sides of a magnet: repelling, refusing to budge, resisting connection. My bullshit angst about being the last to know, about being the 'baby' of the group, and her painfully deep resentment over being thrust to the front line were powerful forces. Josh and Toby were confused and anxious and angry, but CJ and I hoarded our pain like kids hoarding candy. We took it out on each other...and then we turned to each other for comfort.
Interesting.
I hurry up with my packing, flinging clothes into my suitcase with wild abandon. I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but I don't care. To hell with it. I'm suddenly filled with purpose. I have to explore this thing--this thing between CJ and me. Not love, but more than sex.
For once I dress down, too dirty and tired and hungover to worry about making an impression. I dress in a baggy white tshirt and jeans I've had since college--hardly GQ now. With one last look at the tangled sheets where only a few hours ago I made love to CJ, I head out of the room and shut the door behind me.
The light in the hall is bright. I slip on my shades and make my way to the elevator. A few women give me strange looks as they pass me by. I know I look like a frat house-reject, but I don't care. I'm a man on a mission.
I'm going to find CJ Cregg.
I find her in the hotel coffee shop, a mug of cold coffee before her. She's got a spoon in one hand and she's absent-mindedly spinning it in her fingers. She looks a million miles away.
She also looks fantastic--pressed and shined, tailored and elegant. You'd never know she just stumbled out of a drunken one-night stand a few short hours ago.
When she finally notices me, she looks visibly surprised. Her expressive eyes widen considerably and she flinches slightly.
"Sam," she says in a 'you startled me' voice.
"Hey, CJ." Oh, that was suave.
Her eyes travel from my head to my toes and I shift uncomfortably where I stand. "I know," I say. "I look like hell."
CJ's lips tighten and her eyes dart back up to to my face. I could swear she flushes a little. "No, you look--Okay, yeah, you look like hell."
A silence stretches between us. I indicate the seat opposite her. "May I?"
She hesitates for a moment, her eyes flickering in discomfort. She licks her lips. "Of course," she says, a fraction too late to be believable. I sit anyway.
"So..." I say.
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah."
Well, this is pathetic.
I'll try again. Full speed ahead. "So, last night..."
CJ's head suddenly jerks up at my words. "Last night?" she echoes, sounding nervous and stricken.
"Yeah," I say. "You know--the threesome we had last night with Jose Cuervo."
"Sam!" My name comes out of her mouth an outraged gasp.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to be so glib, I just--" Sighing, I pull my sunglasses off my face and meet her gaze levelly. 'What happened?"
She bristles then and sets the spoon down with a clatter. "We were both angry and *there*, remember, Sam?"
"Yeah," I say softly.
"Don't tell me you've never had a--a night like that before."
I stare at her again. "No."
Her reaction is one of disbelief. Eyebrows narrowing, she asks, "What about Laurie?"
"Um, I didn't intend for that to be a one-night stand," I say indignantly. "If you will recall--"
"Yeah, yeah, she turned out to be a high-priced call girl." She waves me away impatiently. "What about Mallory?"
I can't help laughing. "Mallory O'Brien wouldn't let me touch her with a ten-foot pole, let alone love her and leave her."
"Hmph." CJ traces the spoon against the tabletop. "That's not the first impression she gave." She lifts her head again. "Ainsley?"
"*Ainsley*?" If I were drinking anything, I would have immediately executed a spit-take. "Ainsley *Hayes*?"
"Oh, don't pretend the thought hasn't at least crossed your mind," scoffs CJ. "Do the words 'blond Republican'--?"
I cut her off with a groan of frustration. "Jesus. If I never hear those goddamn words again it'll be too soon. Look, CJ--Ainsley is great, and she and I seem to have--"
"Chemistry," says CJ.
"Whatever. But she's not for me. Anyway, how did this get to be about me? I thought we were discussing *us*."
"There's no *us*, Sam."
"CJ."
"What? There's no us!"
"So us rolling around on the floor shrieking each other's names for a good couple of hours was nothing?" The question rolls flippantly off my tongue. I'm not feeling flippant right now, but I'm getting irritated.
CJ seems to calm then. She smiles at me. "Sam, I'm old enough to be your--"
"Big sister?" I supply helpfully.
She makes a face at me.
"CJ, if it helps at all, I'm pretty sure you're not related to me by blood."
"Don't joke, Sam. Why are you being like this? What happened to guilt- free sex?"
I shrug. "I don't know. I was just--I was thinking about last night, and..." I glance over at her. She's gazing back at me, completely clueless. She has no idea where I'm going with any of this. That's quite a blow to my ego.
I'm not in love with her, I know that. But I'm...something.Interested, maybe.
Yes, I am. I'm interested. That's the word.
"I just thought--it seemed like we...We seemed to be--you know, *compatible*, and uh," Shit, this is getting worse by the second. It's a good thing I'm a speech-writer and not an orator. "Um, compatible," I say again, "and you know, that's kind of usually a good thing, and I was thinking that--that maybe..."
"Oh, Sam," she sighs.
The way she's looking at me...Sort of pitying, sort of indulgent, sort of impatient.
Like a--like a big sister.
Shit.
She's not attracted to me. That's what it is. Jesus Christ, I am such an *ass*. I was a warm body, a chance for escape. The fact that she didn't find me repulsive doesn't mean she found me attractive.
Jesus. I am so stupid.
"You know what?" I force a laugh that comes out sounding fairly credible, if I do say so myself. "Never mind. Ignore me. It was hormones and Jose, that's what it was. You're right; there's no 'us'."
"Sparky."
Yeah, that doesn't help. Five minutes ago I felt ten feet tall, I felt like her *lover*. Now I just feel like some stupid, very unlover- like idiot masquerading as a man. A nickname like 'Sparky' will do that to you.
"It's fine, CJ. Forget it."
She looks genuinely upset. Of course she is. She feels badly. "Sam, I'm sorry..." Her eyes are glassy.
"Of course. Of course," I say brightly. "It's nothing, CJ. Honestly." I even smile. Then I clear my throat and slide out of the chair. "Well, I'd better be going."
CJ grabs my hand as I start to move away. "Sam, wait--I just--I mean, thank you." Her eyes dart here and there, from my face to the floor and back again. "For everything. For talking to me, for being my--my friend. I needed you last night."
"Great. That's great, CJ." I don't even know what the hell is coming out of my mouth. I just want to get out of here. I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life. And that includes the time Shelly Troy told the entire Senior class that I kissed like a fish. It even outranks getting my ass kicked on national television.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asks after another silence passes.
I shake my head. I don't have anything to say.
"Okay..." she murmurs, releasing my hand. My palm burns from her fingers.
She needed me, I think as I walk away, feeling her eyes on my back. What the hell am I getting upset for? Didn't I need her too? Didn't I pretty much ask for guilt-free sex?
Yes, I did.
I tell myself not to be upset, that I'm being stupid, irrational, letting my hormones get the better of me. I start to feel better. It was nothing. It was sex. Great sex, yes, but just sex. I tell myself there's nothing to be embarrassed about. We were two consenting adults who just needed a little time to forget.
I tell myself it was just sex.
I even start to believe it.
-FIN-
____________________
Weighing that silver
there with your hands
In no position to make demands
Got what you wanted
Oh--very nice
but every kiss must have a price
I'm getting tired of
being denied of
saying those same old things
And those tears aren't gonna mend
these broken wings
Red moon
All that I've witnessed
hard to believe
I can still find it in me
to be so naive
Cry on your pillow
into the night
'Cos saying you're sorry
won't make it right
I'm getting tired of
being denied of
things getting in my way
And if I'm quiet
that's 'cos there's nothing left to say
Yeah, if I'm quiet
it's 'cos there's nothing left to say
--Red Moon, David Gray--