Author: Elina
A/N: This hasn't been betaed, so don't scream at errors. Feedback is appreciated and welcome. Thanks to the man at the bowling alley, who told me to slide: my bowling didn't get any better but it gave me an idea.
WARNING: I still curse.
# 100 Ways to Say I'm Sorry - Chapter 3 #
I keep circling around the bullpen, searching for some courage. Courage to dive into the water. I stop for a minute, open my mouth as if I'm going to say something -- or maybe I'm just getting ready to hold my breath -- and almost walk over there. Then I decide not to and continue circling, take a walk around the corridors, come back, and try again. And fail.
People are starting to think that I've gone crazy.
I go through what I'm thinking of saying all over again in my head and come to the conclusion that I should never be the Communications Director since everything I can think of just sounds incredibly stupid. Finally I give up plans and decide just to say what ever comes into my mind. That's not a good plan but I'm going to go with it. Still, I can't find the will to go in.
There's too many people around, anyway.
Another round of pacing the hallways. I don't know if I'm only imagining it, but suddenly the hallways seem crowded and full of noise. It was much quieter outside her office. This thought drives me back there.
I was right. Only Carol is there and, when she sees me, she gives me a knowing look that seems to say 'get in there' and leaves. After she's gone, I can hear her in her office, walking, stopping, sighing. The sound pulls me closer.
I stop at her doorway, holding out my hand to grab the frame as if in mental support. "CJ."
She turns around at the sound of her own name, and I forget everything I was going to say. Not that it matters anyway.
I go with the first remark that pops into my mind. "We have to stop doing this." Then I heave a sigh before continuing, turning my eyes at my shoes. "The thing is--" I shut my mouth to start again. "What we did was..."
"Unthinkable," she fills in. "Reckless, irresponsible, stupid --"
"No."
Her burst of speak stops in the air like cut with a knife.
"No," I repeat again, my voice low and raspy, as I raise my eyes from the floor and level them with hers. She's now listening, waiting, looking at me intensely. She's really listening to me. For the first time in days.
As I open my mouth again, even I can hardly hear my own voice. "You're not just an employee to me. Never have been."
She doesn't say anything. Not a word. Not a single little thing. She just looks at me with her mask on again, and I find it impossible to read her. As the silence continues, I let my eyes wander back to my shoes, embarrassed of what I just admitted.
She's still not saying anything as I take a deep breath and let the air slowly flow out again with a word; "Okay." This is not exactly how I'd imagined it.
She should say something, anything at all, she should tell me to fuck off or throw things at me or call me a jerk, anything at all, but she should say something. She doesn't.
I pat the doorframe with the palm of my hand twice, a frustrated habit that I sometimes just can't help, before tucking my hands into my pockets. "Okay." With that, I turn around and leave.
"That went really well, didn't it," my head is mocking at me.
As I get into my office I take the ball out and start bouncing it against the wall. Bang, bang, clap. Bang, bang, clap. Bang, bang, clap. I, hate, today. Bang, bang, clap. Shit, shit, shit. Bang, bang, clap.
After fifteen minutes of bouncing, Ginger turns up in the doorway and tells me to shut up. I can't be bothered to remark that I haven't actually said anything, but still I catch the ball as it bounces back from the wall and place it on the table.
"Thank you," she mutters and turns to leave.
"Ginger...?"
Her eyes turn to look at me tiredly, as if waiting for me to burst out again. I do that too often nowadays, I guess. Surprise fills her face as I open my mouth, forming the words softly: "I'm sorry."
It's like I'm having a déjà-vu as she just stands there staring at me. Then her lips curve in a small smile. "It's okay," she answers in an equally soft tone.
"Could you close the door, please?" I ask when there's nothing else to say. She nods and pulls the door shut.
I'm left there in a silence that's breaking my ears.
*
"Toby!"
I let a deep sigh escape from my lips as I stop moving and wait for him to catch up with me. "I'm off," I tell Josh as he appears next to me.
"I know, I know, there's just --"
"Don't say it."
" -- one more little thing --"
"Don't say it, what ever you do, don't say it or I swear to God..."
" -- that I need you to do," he finishes.
I glare at him for awhile, watch him panting after the run he did to catch me. "I told you not to say it," I snap. His face takes a pleading expression, like a freaking puppy. "No, Josh."
"Toby," he whines, "it's just a little, tiny, extremely small thing..."
"Look at me. I have my coat on, my bag with me, my scarf around my neck, I'm half way to the door. Just a few more steps and I'd be out of that door, finally breathing some fresh air after this musty office air, and then a few more steps and I'd be in my car, driving happily towards home. I'd put on a Dolly Parton tape and hum along with it, not because Dolly Parton makes my day, but to make the point that I'm extremely happy to get the hell out of here, so happy that even Dolly Parton can't make me scream."
I gasp for air, amazed that I didn't just pass out, and let him stare at me like I've just grown a second head. I sigh, defeated. "What is it?"
"Shanghai."
As he breaths out the word, I spin around on my heels and start walking towards the door. "Toby!" he yells after me.
"You know where you can put Shanghai amongst all the other things that you call small, Josh! I've got Dolly Parton waiting for me in my car!" I shout over my shoulder, and the security guy in the hall gives me a weird look. Once more I hear him calling my name, but I don't care. I'm off.
I've gotten enough bullshit for one day.
It's nearer to 10 p.m. as I drive up in front of my apartment building. With a long sigh I climb out off the car and bang the door shut.
As I get into the elevator, I crash against the wall rubbing my forehead again. The long day has worn me off in so many levels. My back still hurts and the bag seems to weigh a ton. That's only the physical troubles. In a week my life has gone straight to hell.
The doors slide open and I stumble to the corridor deep in my thoughts and, hardly noticing that I've been moving, I find myself at my door. It takes its time for me to dig the keys out of my pocket. Finally the door is unlocked and swung open. I step in -- and freeze.
There's someone in here.
A narrow beam of light comes from around the corner, dancing on the floor and fading the shadows in the otherwise dark apartment. I'm certain I closed all the lights when I left this morning.
Slowly I reach out to close the door. There's someone in there, is all that I can hear screaming in my head. Then I notice something on the floor, next to the wall.
Shoes.
I frown. There's a pair of shoes, woman's shoes, in my apartment. Shoes and a beam of light. "Hello?" I call out taking a couple of steps towards the light. As I get around the corner, I see where the light is coming from: the bathroom. There's someone in my bathroom.
What the hell is someone doing in my bathroom?
The room is filled with steam and it's warm barrier hits me in the face as I crack the door open and stick my head in.
All I can see through the fog is a long leg peeking out of the bathtub, water dripping on the floor from the tip of the toes.
I make a silent groan as I recognize the leg. Or at least I think so, I'm not sure. I must've imagined it because she shows no signs of noticing that I'm there.
Her hair is lifted up, her arms casually resting on the edges of the tub. Her head is resting against the wall and her eyes are shut, the look on her face is content, utterly relaxed. The other knee, the one that isn't stretched straight and hanging almost out of the tub, is rising from within the foam temptingly. I watch as a small group of bubbles slowly slide down her thigh, finally disappearing amongst the others waiting below.
I gulp. "Um, CJ...?" I squeak slightly. I think I'm losing the control of my voice.
She makes a little noise, to let me know that she's awake.
"The..." I point my thumb at the door, shifting uncomfortably at the sight of her. "You," I start again. You're naked, I was going to state but then I realize that of course she's naked, she's in my bathtub. Naked. I shake my head. "What are you doing in my tub?" Naked.
"Your apartment is freezing cold. It's like freaking North Pole." She still doesn't open her eyes, as if her explanation was completely understandable and reasonable and covered all possible questions yet to come.
"So you decided to..."
"It's warm in here. You have no idea how divine plain hot water can feel like sometimes."
I stutter over my words, fail to even form them for a second actually, as I suddenly remember, again, what she is under those bubbles. Naked. "My radiator broke this morning," I finally stammer.
She smiles, a small smile that only flickers in the side of her mouth as if she's too lazy to even grin properly. "You should get someone to fix that. North Pole, Toby, North Pole."
"Yeah."
This is weird. Having a conversation like this. With her in the bathtub. Naked. Damn it, Toby! You have to stop adding that after every fucking sentence! "How did you get in?" I ask to interrupt my thoughts.
"Ginger has your spare keys."
I glance at her. She just lies there without a muscle moving, without any kind of reaction. "Ginger?" Did she... "What did you tell her?"
"I told her that I'm going to fuck your brains out."
She doesn't smile, she just lies there, relaxed. In my bathtub. Naked, something reminds me in my head, not in a bad way this time. I can't help the wide, stupid smirk that slowly invades my face, like a little boy's in a candy store, as her words sink in. "Okay."
"She laughed."
"I can live with that," I state as I finally dare to move into the room.
She opens her eyes. Her big, wide eyes that are now looking at me invitingly, twinkling, smiling. "C'mere, Grumpy," she speaks with a low voice that sends shivers all the way down my spine.
She doesn't have to ask me twice.
TBC....