TITLE: Playing for Keeps (3/5)
AUTHOR: Kansas J. Miller
PAIRING: CJ/Charlie
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: "20 Hours in America"
DISCLAIMER: CJ, Charlie and all of the "West Wing" character belong to Aaron Sorkin. Clearly, 'cause I doubt he'd be having them do this.
AUTHOR NOTE: This is chapter three out of five-it picks up directly after chapter 2, right after CJ leaves Charlie's office in 20HIA. So yeah, this is all going someplace very uncertain.I don't know, you guys tell me! I love the reviews, thanks to those who've sent them. And thank you to Rhonda, who ALWAYS knows what to do!
~*~
The small white tiles lay scattered on the carpet, and as Charlie tugged the afghan over them, he wondered whose hands had made it for her. Charlie knew he should have left hours ago, but there had been no real reason to go home. As two o'clock turned into three and three to four, the warmth of the bed and the feel of the fluffy blue robe she'd been wrapped in all night were too much of a comfort. She was soft and smelled like vanilla, the darkness was pale as moonlight streamed in from the street. And so with four fading into five, Charlie remained with CJ's long body curled easily into his.
~*~
"Your car's in the lot, why are you walking?" Charlie asked, jogging a bit to catch up with CJ, who was swathed in white and glitter as she headed into the street lamp light.
Tossing her head over her shoulder, CJ looked at Charlie. "I don't know," she answered atonally, her shoulders square as she continued to walk. "It's only three blocks."
"Yeah, but it's nighttime and you're dressed like." Charlie grinned widely, gesturing at CJ's long, white and somewhat revealing gown.
"Like how?" CJ smiled, giving Charlie the once-over. "You're still in your tux."
"Yeah," Charlie grinned, pulling at the bowtie until it fell loose, "but I'm not going to be attracting unwanted male attention."
Crossing at Pennsylvania Avenue, CJ chuckled. "How do you know I will be?"
"If not from street thugs, then most definitely from me," Charlie kidded, his tone light as they continued down the street.
"Your attention would never be unwanted," CJ smiled softly, glancing over at Charlie. "But if you're worried about street thugs, feel free to walk me home."
"I think I will," Charlie said matter-of-factly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trying to keep his eyes from shifting back to CJ. Her light flirtation wasn't more than it usually was, just enough to keep Charlie's interest piqued.
They walked in silence for another block. Charlie was still touched by the photograph CJ had presented him with back at the White House. CJ was equally as aware of what Charlie had just done for Anthony, and in effect, for herself. The dynamic between them was clearly changing, both afraid to acknowledge the slight shift in balance.
Arriving at CJ's apartment, Charlie stopped at the base of the stairs. "Have a good night, CJ." he offered, glancing up the streets in search of a cab. He couldn't walk home from here.
CJ stood on the second step, above Charlie. "Come upstairs and have a cup of coffee with me or something. You know, since you walked me home."
Charlie smiled at her mock; she'd never need anyone to take care of her. "If you want." he offered noncommittally, not wanting to read more than there was or seem too eager. But CJ's nod was firm and that was all it took for Charlie to follow her up the stairs.
~*~
The apartment was spacious and neat, styled with just the right touch of CJ's taste. As she briefly retreated into her bedroom to shed the formal gown, Charlie shifted his feet in the living room, engrossed in all the photos hung on the wall.
It had always been clear to Charlie that CJ loved her family, but it was even more obvious how CJ felt about the Bartlet Administration. The staff was pictured everywhere, a testament to their extended family status. Scanning over the frames, Charlie caught with surprise a three-year-old shot of him and Zoë.
"Like my pictures?" CJ's voice, coming from behind him, startled Charlie.
Spinning around, he came face to face with her. Her smooth hair now tucked behind her ears, she was wrapped in a blue robe so soft that it begged to be touched.
"They're nice," Charlie smiled, putting his hands safely in his pockets and turning back to the wall.
"I'm really into keeping albums and frames all over my house. That's why I just loved that photo of you and your mother," CJ commented, standing next to Charlie as they both continued to look at the wall.
Charlie pointed to the photo of Zoë. "I've never seen this one."
"It was personal film, not a White House shot," CJ explained. After a moment, she asked, "What ever happened between you two?"
Charlie turned away from the photo wall and CJ followed, directing them into the kitchen. CJ looked at Charlie for an answer as she started the hot water brewing.
Charlie sat down at one of the counter stools and smiled. "Let's just call it a maturity issue. We liked each other but we were on different levels, emotionally."
"Ye-ah," CJ drew out, grinning at Charlie over her shoulder as she took two candy apple red mugs from a cabinet. "You're mature enough for two men, Chuckie."
"And you're not?" Charlie smirked at the nickname.
"Hot chocolate? Coffee? Scotch rocks? What's your poison?" CJ asked, ignoring his comment as she turned around. Already she had filled her own mug with a generous spoonful of the chocolate powder.
"I didn't know Godiva made hot chocolate," Charlie said, raising a brow. "So I'll have that."
They sipped the warm liquids standing across from one another, the two of them making a very strange couple. He was a black man, barely twenty-five, dressed in a tux while she was a white woman, nearing forty one, wrapped in her bathrobe. As he enjoyed the rich chocolate of the drink, Charlie marveled that they were even able to have such a comfortable relationship; with so many others such a thing would be impossible.
~*~
They moved to the living room, Charlie having decided it was time to go home. With the mugs empty in the sink, CJ followed Charlie to the door, ever grateful for the company he had provided.
"Thanks for coming up, Charlie. Talking to you isn't all bad," CJ cracked, smiling down at the floor a moment.
"I'm glad you've been talking to me," Charlie responded seriously, thinking how the emotional path she had been traveling on had changed for the better in the weeks since they'd forged a real friendship. "I'm glad we've become friends."
"Me, too," CJ nodded, smiling widely and leaning into the embrace neither was sure who'd started.
What began as a nice little friendly hug quickly moved beyond. When his arms had tightened around her waist and hers around his shoulders, CJ was not at all surprised when Charlie's mouth suddenly became part of hers.
It wasn't a deep or passionate kiss, just his soft lips moving briefly over hers before they both pulled back with slight nervousness.
Staring at her mouth, Charlie felt his heart rate increase as he anticipated CJ's reaction to what he'd just initiated.
CJ quickly became flustered, what words had managed to come out of her mouth falling off without completion.
"Charlie, I.uh." CJ murmured, not entirely sure of what had happened. She was totally sure, however, that she had liked it and that pursuing it was not right. Looking up into Charlie's dark eyes and acutely aware of his large, warm hands on her waist, CJ suddenly, and without thought, leaned back into his body.
"CJ?" he murmured, his mouth pressing against the pulse point on the side of her fragile neck, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "What do you want from me?"
Sighing, she reluctantly stepped back, entwining her fingers in his. "I don't know. I just don't want to be alone tonight."
Charlie stared at her, his big brown eyes reaching deep into her nervous blue ones.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, dropping his hands. "I'm being selfish. You should go home now."
Turning, she walked over to a small table and picked up a phone. "Can I call you a cab?"
"No," he solemnly decided, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
CJ's mouth opened in surprise, and she actually took a step back. "Charlie, I really think . . ."
"Do you have Scrabble?" he interrupted, grinning at her consternation. "I'm gonna show you how two years at Georgetown beats eight years at Berkley." *
AUTHOR: Kansas J. Miller
PAIRING: CJ/Charlie
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: "20 Hours in America"
DISCLAIMER: CJ, Charlie and all of the "West Wing" character belong to Aaron Sorkin. Clearly, 'cause I doubt he'd be having them do this.
AUTHOR NOTE: This is chapter three out of five-it picks up directly after chapter 2, right after CJ leaves Charlie's office in 20HIA. So yeah, this is all going someplace very uncertain.I don't know, you guys tell me! I love the reviews, thanks to those who've sent them. And thank you to Rhonda, who ALWAYS knows what to do!
~*~
The small white tiles lay scattered on the carpet, and as Charlie tugged the afghan over them, he wondered whose hands had made it for her. Charlie knew he should have left hours ago, but there had been no real reason to go home. As two o'clock turned into three and three to four, the warmth of the bed and the feel of the fluffy blue robe she'd been wrapped in all night were too much of a comfort. She was soft and smelled like vanilla, the darkness was pale as moonlight streamed in from the street. And so with four fading into five, Charlie remained with CJ's long body curled easily into his.
~*~
"Your car's in the lot, why are you walking?" Charlie asked, jogging a bit to catch up with CJ, who was swathed in white and glitter as she headed into the street lamp light.
Tossing her head over her shoulder, CJ looked at Charlie. "I don't know," she answered atonally, her shoulders square as she continued to walk. "It's only three blocks."
"Yeah, but it's nighttime and you're dressed like." Charlie grinned widely, gesturing at CJ's long, white and somewhat revealing gown.
"Like how?" CJ smiled, giving Charlie the once-over. "You're still in your tux."
"Yeah," Charlie grinned, pulling at the bowtie until it fell loose, "but I'm not going to be attracting unwanted male attention."
Crossing at Pennsylvania Avenue, CJ chuckled. "How do you know I will be?"
"If not from street thugs, then most definitely from me," Charlie kidded, his tone light as they continued down the street.
"Your attention would never be unwanted," CJ smiled softly, glancing over at Charlie. "But if you're worried about street thugs, feel free to walk me home."
"I think I will," Charlie said matter-of-factly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trying to keep his eyes from shifting back to CJ. Her light flirtation wasn't more than it usually was, just enough to keep Charlie's interest piqued.
They walked in silence for another block. Charlie was still touched by the photograph CJ had presented him with back at the White House. CJ was equally as aware of what Charlie had just done for Anthony, and in effect, for herself. The dynamic between them was clearly changing, both afraid to acknowledge the slight shift in balance.
Arriving at CJ's apartment, Charlie stopped at the base of the stairs. "Have a good night, CJ." he offered, glancing up the streets in search of a cab. He couldn't walk home from here.
CJ stood on the second step, above Charlie. "Come upstairs and have a cup of coffee with me or something. You know, since you walked me home."
Charlie smiled at her mock; she'd never need anyone to take care of her. "If you want." he offered noncommittally, not wanting to read more than there was or seem too eager. But CJ's nod was firm and that was all it took for Charlie to follow her up the stairs.
~*~
The apartment was spacious and neat, styled with just the right touch of CJ's taste. As she briefly retreated into her bedroom to shed the formal gown, Charlie shifted his feet in the living room, engrossed in all the photos hung on the wall.
It had always been clear to Charlie that CJ loved her family, but it was even more obvious how CJ felt about the Bartlet Administration. The staff was pictured everywhere, a testament to their extended family status. Scanning over the frames, Charlie caught with surprise a three-year-old shot of him and Zoë.
"Like my pictures?" CJ's voice, coming from behind him, startled Charlie.
Spinning around, he came face to face with her. Her smooth hair now tucked behind her ears, she was wrapped in a blue robe so soft that it begged to be touched.
"They're nice," Charlie smiled, putting his hands safely in his pockets and turning back to the wall.
"I'm really into keeping albums and frames all over my house. That's why I just loved that photo of you and your mother," CJ commented, standing next to Charlie as they both continued to look at the wall.
Charlie pointed to the photo of Zoë. "I've never seen this one."
"It was personal film, not a White House shot," CJ explained. After a moment, she asked, "What ever happened between you two?"
Charlie turned away from the photo wall and CJ followed, directing them into the kitchen. CJ looked at Charlie for an answer as she started the hot water brewing.
Charlie sat down at one of the counter stools and smiled. "Let's just call it a maturity issue. We liked each other but we were on different levels, emotionally."
"Ye-ah," CJ drew out, grinning at Charlie over her shoulder as she took two candy apple red mugs from a cabinet. "You're mature enough for two men, Chuckie."
"And you're not?" Charlie smirked at the nickname.
"Hot chocolate? Coffee? Scotch rocks? What's your poison?" CJ asked, ignoring his comment as she turned around. Already she had filled her own mug with a generous spoonful of the chocolate powder.
"I didn't know Godiva made hot chocolate," Charlie said, raising a brow. "So I'll have that."
They sipped the warm liquids standing across from one another, the two of them making a very strange couple. He was a black man, barely twenty-five, dressed in a tux while she was a white woman, nearing forty one, wrapped in her bathrobe. As he enjoyed the rich chocolate of the drink, Charlie marveled that they were even able to have such a comfortable relationship; with so many others such a thing would be impossible.
~*~
They moved to the living room, Charlie having decided it was time to go home. With the mugs empty in the sink, CJ followed Charlie to the door, ever grateful for the company he had provided.
"Thanks for coming up, Charlie. Talking to you isn't all bad," CJ cracked, smiling down at the floor a moment.
"I'm glad you've been talking to me," Charlie responded seriously, thinking how the emotional path she had been traveling on had changed for the better in the weeks since they'd forged a real friendship. "I'm glad we've become friends."
"Me, too," CJ nodded, smiling widely and leaning into the embrace neither was sure who'd started.
What began as a nice little friendly hug quickly moved beyond. When his arms had tightened around her waist and hers around his shoulders, CJ was not at all surprised when Charlie's mouth suddenly became part of hers.
It wasn't a deep or passionate kiss, just his soft lips moving briefly over hers before they both pulled back with slight nervousness.
Staring at her mouth, Charlie felt his heart rate increase as he anticipated CJ's reaction to what he'd just initiated.
CJ quickly became flustered, what words had managed to come out of her mouth falling off without completion.
"Charlie, I.uh." CJ murmured, not entirely sure of what had happened. She was totally sure, however, that she had liked it and that pursuing it was not right. Looking up into Charlie's dark eyes and acutely aware of his large, warm hands on her waist, CJ suddenly, and without thought, leaned back into his body.
"CJ?" he murmured, his mouth pressing against the pulse point on the side of her fragile neck, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "What do you want from me?"
Sighing, she reluctantly stepped back, entwining her fingers in his. "I don't know. I just don't want to be alone tonight."
Charlie stared at her, his big brown eyes reaching deep into her nervous blue ones.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, dropping his hands. "I'm being selfish. You should go home now."
Turning, she walked over to a small table and picked up a phone. "Can I call you a cab?"
"No," he solemnly decided, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
CJ's mouth opened in surprise, and she actually took a step back. "Charlie, I really think . . ."
"Do you have Scrabble?" he interrupted, grinning at her consternation. "I'm gonna show you how two years at Georgetown beats eight years at Berkley." *