Author: Elina
A/N: Subtext, baby, subtext.
WARNING: I curse. Not much but I just do. That's me. So, if you find it offensive or just don't particularly like people cursing... Run. Now.
# 100 Ways to Say I'm Sorry - Chapter 2 #
When the rush had slightly worn off, when the adrenaline had stopped throbbing our temples, when the deafening pounding of our heartbeats, thud, thud, thud, had stopped hearing so clearly in our ears, we were left feeling embarrassed, awkward. And she fled. She gathered her clothes, somehow managed to get them on without the result looking too messed up, and, before the reality kicked in, she was gone.
It had taken me awhile to remember where I was. I dressed in haste and was saved by mere luck as only a minute later, after I'd sat down behind my desk, still plucking on my tie with my trembling hands, Sam walked in. He just gave a disapproving look at my blown-up appearance and went on with his concerns. He hadn't even bothered to wonder what had happened. Just business as usual.
It took days for us to start functioning in a somewhat normal manner. Still we kept dodging; each other, meeting, interaction, conversation, eye contact -- anything that moved even slightly under the water surface. If we said something to each other, it was strictly professional; some comments about the current state of the house, domestic politics, foreign politics, laws...
There were days when I was just full of politics.
I'd keep watching her over the room unaware of myself. When she'd lift her head and see me, we'd both turn away. Like some fucking teenagers. And every minute of conscious and unconscious dodging that passed by, every useless bullshit chit-chat that we had, just rubbed on my nerves. On hers, too, I could tell.
Just like it did today.
"Ginger!"
My door is open, and she had been sitting by her desk just two minutes ago, so there's no way she couldn't have heard me. Still, no answer comes. I wait for another second.
"Ginger!" I bellow again.
Then there is an irritated "I'm coming"-shout from the bullpen and then some annoyed muttering. "What?" Her head pops into the doorway.
"Get Sam here."
Her eyeballs take a spin. "He's right there in his office." There's an unsaid 'Jesus Christ', and my eyes narrow.
"Don't go cheeky on me," I snarl.
I think I heard her muttering under her breath "Don't go asshole on me," and I slam my fist against my desk. Hard. She jumps. "Get him here, now!"
"I'm here, I'm here!" His dark figure jumps to join her in the doorway, a saving knight in a shiny armor. He looks from me to Ginger and back again with his eyes wide and big with concern. "I'm here," he states a bit less freaked out, soothingly. Sam, ever the peacemaker.
His hand reaches out for Ginger, just a little action of comfort, as if he's apologizing for my behalf, but she turns on her heals and walks away. Sam glares at me like he's ready to explode.
"Ginger..." I call out after her, but she's already gone.
Great. Just great.
*
"Leo's office in five," Ginger grunts as she stops by in my office, throws the memo in front of me on the desk and storms out again. She's still demonstrating, that stubborn woman, still as mad as hell at me. So is Sam. He shouted at me previously until I had to throw him out.
I don't know how to apologize. I'm not good at apologizing. She should know that.
I try to read the memo, concentrate on something meaningful, but the words just seem to fly off the paper and start taking spins around my head, and all that I can think about is how much my back hurts. I close my eyes. I think about today. I think about the past week. And when all the thinking is done, five minutes is up and it's time to head to Leo's, my mood is even worse. Not only does my back still hurt but now I'm also thinking. About CJ and Ginger. The two women in my life. Two women who both currently must hate me, at least neither of them is speaking to me. That's shitty.
I'm the first one there, and Margaret tells me to just go in. Leo's finishing off a phone call as I step in and waves me to hold on a minute. I take a position near the back wall. This meeting is one that I have no interest participating in. The sooner I get the hell out of here, the better. In a heartbeat the others waltz in and I get to blend in perfectly against the wall. They hardly even notice I'm there. Which is just fine by me.
She's the last to join us.
I watch as she walks in, a couple of minutes late, her lips forming a wordless sorry to Leo since we've already started. She doesn't find a seat, just leaves standing next to Josh's on the other side of the room from me, and listens as Sam goes on about the Health Care Bill. She doesn't take a look at me, which just irritates me.
She stands straight. No folded arms, no bent knees, no hunched shoulder, just stick straight, but she still manages to look casual. Which irritates me even more. The words start muffling in my ears; I don't care to listen. Let the others sort this one out, they're perfectly capable of handling it on their own. So, instead of listening, I just watch her.
I can't understand how she can just pretend that nothing ever happened? It's not like we were drunk or anything. My hand searches my forehead and starts rubbing it slowly, like trying to rub out these thoughts that keep invading my mind time after time. I just can't understand her. And I hate the dodging. I just hate it. I'm full of it all.
"Saughton," I suddenly recognize the name from within all the other words, and my head jumps up. All the thoughts clear up in my head. Then I remember the memo. Saughton. So that's what this is all about. "Is he really seriously going to do this?" I hear Leo remarking, and my mind starts slowly returning to reality. Saughton.
Then she opens her mouth.
"We should cover him up. I could make a couple of phone calls, and it'll be tough but I think I could make it happen as long as --"
"We can't cover him up," I suddenly burst out, not quite aware that I said it out loud, letting all the unsaid frustration that has been packing inside of me all week get out.
Every eye pair in the room turns to look at me, save CJ's. She doesn't even glance at me, just asks with an almost bored voice, as if she'd been expecting me to jump in: "We can't?"
"We need him." I move away from my safe haven next to the wall and walk closer to her and Leo. "We can use him. If we let him go open, we can throw it upside down to our benefit. If we do that, we'll get half of the Republicans on our side with this, and it's a guaranteed vote win for us."
Now she turns to look at me, finally. Her eyes send me a warning look. "No. If we let this loose, maybe, I'm saying maybe we'll get the Republicans --"
"We will."
"Okay, let's say we do. Let's say we do win them --"
"The vote's a tie and all we'd need --"
"If we let Saughton loose, we'll lose Virginia and half of our team! All we'd need is a miracle!"
"We can get our party back."
She doesn't even bother to laugh. "In your dreams."
"Saughton is valuable. We can't just let this pass us."
"Saughton would've been extremely valuable, but not in this situation. We can't use him, and you know that!"
"I know that we can do this, it would just take a little more effort. You can't always squirm your way out through where it's the easiest."
Her eyes narrow, just barely noticeably, as she gasps slightly, and even I'm not sure what I'm talking about anymore.
"You know what I think? I think you're only bitching at me to get to show who's the boss. That's what I think."
"This has nothing to do with you. I --"
"Guys..."
"-- don't need to get show you who's the boss, I am your boss."
"And I'm the employee?" she spits out bitterly.
"Damn straight!"
"Guys!"
His voice echoes in the sudden silence as I turn my head to meet the room-full of widened eyes gazing at us. To meet Leo glaring at us. He stands there with his hands grabbing the side of the desk and just stares. His eyes pierce through my flesh.
"The meeting is over," he tells the room flatly, not taking his eyes off of me. Not even to give an equal look at CJ. I feel like demonstrating about that, like a five-year-old saying 'she started it', but in my brief moment of sensibility I decide not to.
Slowly, like snapping out of a hypnosis, the others start moving, and when they get their limbs working, they get the hell out of the war zone as fast as they can. CJ marches out of the room right behind them. I guess she saw the look Leo gave me. Only to me.
The door closes. Somehow the sound that comes from it brakes the spell, and the look, and he turns his eyes to the desk, leaning slightly forward against it.
Some could say that this posture is one of defeat or tiredness. I know it's one of determination.
"I don't know what has happened between the two of you, Toby, and frankly, I don't care. Just sort it out." His voice is steady, not showing any emotion, but that's what makes it so impressive: it's facelessness.
As I don't answer, he lifts his head, just enough to give me a look from under his brows. "You understand me?"
"It wasn't--"
"You understand me?" This time firmer, more demandingly.
The silence controls the room once again for a beat. Then I nod. "Yes."
"And Toby?"
"Yes?"
"Cover it up."
His body lowers into the chair, his hand searches a file. The conversation's over.
I close the door behind me as I leave.
TBC