Title: Honorable Men
Author: All Things Holy
Rating: PG
Pairing: CJ/Toby, Toby's POV
Email: fox_e_girl_7@hotmail.com, feedback is better than ice cream
Disclaimer: Oh, you must be joking.
Summary: "I won't be this woman you keep coming back to, Toby."
Author's Note: My CJ & Toby are defined by Ellen M., Marguerite, August, International Princess, AJ, Not Jenny, and especially Luna. "They're always turning away from each other" mostly belongs to Amerella and "Another Feminist". Anything that resembles good writing is purely coincidental.
"Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,
& Brutus is an honorable man."
-Julius Caesar
He'd made decisions in his life, decisions that defined where he'd come to, that changed the course of his existence. He'd found that they were necessary, the taking up and leaving behind, the turning towards and away from. And he thought, not for the first time, that they were always turning away from each other. He'd made decisions in his life, they were inevitable, and in his own opinion, more often than not, he got it wrong. He could feel this wrong move like he could feel March 15, 1974, the day Peter Bryant wrapped Toby's car around a tree. This day felt like October 9, 1994, his wedding day. This was the day they turned from each other and finally started walking away.
-------------
He'd grown up with a mostly absent father, he knew what that was. He refused to let his children grow up and hate him. So he turned toward Andy and made another decision, the honorable thing to do.
"You completely ruined my Christmas wedding thing, Andrea. I was thinking lights, snow...It would've been festive, and...something." They sat opposite each other in a booth at McKenzie's and he couldn't keep himself from counting all the ways she wasn't like CJ. He couldn't help but hold it against her that she didn't sit on the same side of the booth, with too little elbow room and too little eye contact, like CJ would've. He'd done it since he'd met Andy, counted all the ways he found her lacking.
"You're Jewish, Toby, and a chupah with Christmas lights?" Andy bit into her sandwich, eyes meeting his, always challenging. Like there could even be a winner between them, like they could ever do anything but lose.
"Yeah," he said. And her hair was 3 shades too red and she was 4 inches too short.
"This isn't gonna be this conversation, Toby. I've told you --"
"These kids deserve a father." And nothing in his voice was forgiving.
Her voice softened a little. "And they've got one, Toby." Andy looked down, knowing that there should be ground to give on either side, but there wasn't and she felt like she should be apologizing for something. But she refused to figure out what. "I don't not love you, Toby." She met his eyes. "But this didn't work the first time and..."
"Andy, you know that --"
"I'm only 5'7", you know." She dropped her gaze again.
"The hell? Andy --"
"You like tall women." And it was said into her napkin, eyes down. Not quite an accusation, but still biting in all the same ways she'd always held against him.
"Yeah," he said, tossing money on the table and standing up. "I just, you know..." And he turned and walked away.
---------
"You know, what I don't get is, you're 6 feet tall and there's a chair, like, right there." CJ lifted her head. She was on the floor surrounded by briefing books, jacket off, blouse mostly undone, shoes strewn under the couch, hair held up with a pencil.
"Yes, I know." She looked up at him. She so rarely did. "But, I figured, you know, the floor was just right here." She looked worn, tired, and used, like she hadn't slept in 3 days. And maybe she hadn't. And they just looked around each other, long pauses filled with 20 years of history. It was new, but it was the way it had always been. "Is there...I mean, do you need something?"
He just stood in her doorway, standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was always standing in her doorway, to her office, her apartment, her bedroom. Always on the periphery.
"No, I was just...you know," and he tucked his chin down, shuffling from foot to foot. His face was an apology these days, and he couldn't look her in the eye. He edged into her office, moving towards the couch. He sat with his hands clasped between his knees. Reverent. "I was just...Are you going to be home tonight?"
She paused, frozen, like he'd caught her off guard. As if she wasn't expecting it. "I thought we weren't doing that anymore." Her back was to him, so he couldn't read her face. He would've seen her eyes closed, her face looking pained.
"We're not, I just --"
"How was lunch with Andy?" And her hands were busy again.
"CJ, this isn't --"
"Toby, I'm not...Just, how was lunch?" With her face still away from him.
"It was...uneventful." His hands were rubbing his beard, elbows on knees. Apologetic. "We're not getting back together, CJ. This isn't --"
And she turned suddenly, her eyes on him all force and accusation and no apologies. "I won't be this woman you keep coming back to, Toby." And they held it like that, just them and the room and the sounds of the office outside. With all the things they'd ever said between them.
They were still just sitting there, staring, when Carol peered around the door frame. "CJ?"
"Yeah." Eyes on Toby, always.
"Your 2 o'clock in the Roosevelt Room." Carol's glance darting back and forth. They held each other's gaze, challenging, because unlike Andy, there could be a winner.
"She'll be right there," and Toby was looking at Carol's back as she walked to her desk. CJ's head fell, her back once again to Toby. Hiding, drawing away.
He stood to leave. "I wouldn't have, you know...I wouldn't have asked you to be." She looked up at him, again in her doorway. Always heading out, heading in, heading any way but forward. "To be that woman, I mean...You're not..." And he was gone.
Always walking again.
Author: All Things Holy
Rating: PG
Pairing: CJ/Toby, Toby's POV
Email: fox_e_girl_7@hotmail.com, feedback is better than ice cream
Disclaimer: Oh, you must be joking.
Summary: "I won't be this woman you keep coming back to, Toby."
Author's Note: My CJ & Toby are defined by Ellen M., Marguerite, August, International Princess, AJ, Not Jenny, and especially Luna. "They're always turning away from each other" mostly belongs to Amerella and "Another Feminist". Anything that resembles good writing is purely coincidental.
"Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,
& Brutus is an honorable man."
-Julius Caesar
He'd made decisions in his life, decisions that defined where he'd come to, that changed the course of his existence. He'd found that they were necessary, the taking up and leaving behind, the turning towards and away from. And he thought, not for the first time, that they were always turning away from each other. He'd made decisions in his life, they were inevitable, and in his own opinion, more often than not, he got it wrong. He could feel this wrong move like he could feel March 15, 1974, the day Peter Bryant wrapped Toby's car around a tree. This day felt like October 9, 1994, his wedding day. This was the day they turned from each other and finally started walking away.
-------------
He'd grown up with a mostly absent father, he knew what that was. He refused to let his children grow up and hate him. So he turned toward Andy and made another decision, the honorable thing to do.
"You completely ruined my Christmas wedding thing, Andrea. I was thinking lights, snow...It would've been festive, and...something." They sat opposite each other in a booth at McKenzie's and he couldn't keep himself from counting all the ways she wasn't like CJ. He couldn't help but hold it against her that she didn't sit on the same side of the booth, with too little elbow room and too little eye contact, like CJ would've. He'd done it since he'd met Andy, counted all the ways he found her lacking.
"You're Jewish, Toby, and a chupah with Christmas lights?" Andy bit into her sandwich, eyes meeting his, always challenging. Like there could even be a winner between them, like they could ever do anything but lose.
"Yeah," he said. And her hair was 3 shades too red and she was 4 inches too short.
"This isn't gonna be this conversation, Toby. I've told you --"
"These kids deserve a father." And nothing in his voice was forgiving.
Her voice softened a little. "And they've got one, Toby." Andy looked down, knowing that there should be ground to give on either side, but there wasn't and she felt like she should be apologizing for something. But she refused to figure out what. "I don't not love you, Toby." She met his eyes. "But this didn't work the first time and..."
"Andy, you know that --"
"I'm only 5'7", you know." She dropped her gaze again.
"The hell? Andy --"
"You like tall women." And it was said into her napkin, eyes down. Not quite an accusation, but still biting in all the same ways she'd always held against him.
"Yeah," he said, tossing money on the table and standing up. "I just, you know..." And he turned and walked away.
---------
"You know, what I don't get is, you're 6 feet tall and there's a chair, like, right there." CJ lifted her head. She was on the floor surrounded by briefing books, jacket off, blouse mostly undone, shoes strewn under the couch, hair held up with a pencil.
"Yes, I know." She looked up at him. She so rarely did. "But, I figured, you know, the floor was just right here." She looked worn, tired, and used, like she hadn't slept in 3 days. And maybe she hadn't. And they just looked around each other, long pauses filled with 20 years of history. It was new, but it was the way it had always been. "Is there...I mean, do you need something?"
He just stood in her doorway, standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was always standing in her doorway, to her office, her apartment, her bedroom. Always on the periphery.
"No, I was just...you know," and he tucked his chin down, shuffling from foot to foot. His face was an apology these days, and he couldn't look her in the eye. He edged into her office, moving towards the couch. He sat with his hands clasped between his knees. Reverent. "I was just...Are you going to be home tonight?"
She paused, frozen, like he'd caught her off guard. As if she wasn't expecting it. "I thought we weren't doing that anymore." Her back was to him, so he couldn't read her face. He would've seen her eyes closed, her face looking pained.
"We're not, I just --"
"How was lunch with Andy?" And her hands were busy again.
"CJ, this isn't --"
"Toby, I'm not...Just, how was lunch?" With her face still away from him.
"It was...uneventful." His hands were rubbing his beard, elbows on knees. Apologetic. "We're not getting back together, CJ. This isn't --"
And she turned suddenly, her eyes on him all force and accusation and no apologies. "I won't be this woman you keep coming back to, Toby." And they held it like that, just them and the room and the sounds of the office outside. With all the things they'd ever said between them.
They were still just sitting there, staring, when Carol peered around the door frame. "CJ?"
"Yeah." Eyes on Toby, always.
"Your 2 o'clock in the Roosevelt Room." Carol's glance darting back and forth. They held each other's gaze, challenging, because unlike Andy, there could be a winner.
"She'll be right there," and Toby was looking at Carol's back as she walked to her desk. CJ's head fell, her back once again to Toby. Hiding, drawing away.
He stood to leave. "I wouldn't have, you know...I wouldn't have asked you to be." She looked up at him, again in her doorway. Always heading out, heading in, heading any way but forward. "To be that woman, I mean...You're not..." And he was gone.
Always walking again.
