Author: Angie
Email: angiesuth@aol.com
Title: Safe and
Sound (1/1)
Category: Friendship
Characters: CJ/Toby
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be.
Spoilers: Post Ep for 'Evidence of Things Not Seen.'
Feedback: Yes please.
A/N: I've been wanting to write something ever since 'EOTNP' shot across my vision a whole season and a half early (a girl devoted to CJ and Toby will go to surprising lengths. . .). I know that many far better than me will have been beavering away on fiction far superior. I'm just hoping to get in before you all!
This is for Rhonda. Because she is wonderful.
*
"Get Down!" Toby heard the words reverberate in his head and then he was down, his body covering CJ's, his hand in her hair. His hand oozing blood, CJ's blood. Her body stone cold under his.
"NO!" He leapt out of bed, his heart pounding, the bitter adrenaline burning his throat and his eyes blinded by the sweat pouring from him. He was half way across the bedroom before he realized where he was and he slid to a halt, clutching his hand to his heart in a vain attempt to calm the hammering in his chest. Toby crept back to bed and lay down on the sweat drenched sheet. This was the fourth consecutive night that he had had this nightmare and he knew he would sleep no more tonight. He was used to little sleep, but just four hours in as many nights would take its toll, he knew, and he would struggle to get through the day ahead.
Toby lay there, allowing his mind to wander back to that Friday night. He had relived the shooting in the press room over and over and he knew that he would do exactly the same again. His logical mind knew that CJ was safe and well, that if he hadn't got to her then Will would have done. Their reactions were only split seconds apart as it was. No, what was burning a hole in his subconscious, was the events that followed the gun shots.
He could still feel CJ shaking as she stood next to him in the Oval Office, as they reassured the President that they were fine. He had looked at her, and it hit him then that she appeared to have aged ten years, her customary elegance shot to hell, her face drawn and lined and her hair in disarray. She was close enough to touch, but he didn't. A hand on her arm or her back, and he would never have been able to let go. He could feel her panic radiate in waves and he almost stopped breathing when Ron crashed the West Wing and she wobbled.
The rest of the evening was a blur. He could remember certain events, certain words in precise detail and yet not remember how he arrived there or to what he was responding. He knew that he had surfed on a crest of heightened awareness – awareness of CJ. When she spoke, he saw only her in a room full of people; when she looked at him, the rest shrank from his vision and left only CJ. Toby knew that he had appeared resolutely good humored, some might say even cheerful. He had flirted with CJ – well he considered it flirting – and he wanted her to notice him looking at her, really looking at her, making sure she was there, making sure she noticed him looking at her.
Toby had listened to Will's story of the bungled missile launch and the phrase 'narrow escape' echoed backwards and forwards in his head. He had taken on board CJ's statement of faith, her amazing recovery from the earlier events. She obviously believed it, but how could she? How could she have faith when a madman had tried to kill her, when a simple mistake had left the world seconds away from disaster? How could she believe that an equinox would let her stand an egg on its end?
Toby felt his heartbeat race again. He concluded that his faith had been shaken. His big problem now was how to restore its equilibrium. And he only knew how to work; so he got up, showered, and did just that. It was 2am.
*
CJ was enjoying a fourth night of restorative sleep. She woke an hour before her alarm, and allowed herself to stay in the warm comfort of her bed, her mind wandering where it will. She could remember her dreams. Not nightmares, surprisingly, but dreams, vivid with touch and taste and feeling. Dreams peppered with the sharp sound of gunshots, and the heat of Toby's body pressed against her back, the hardness of the floor against her chest and face and the pressure of his leg draped over hers, pinning her to the ground. She could feel his fingers in her hair and his cheek on her shoulder blade. Will's hand was there too, but in memory, not in the clarity of sensation with which Toby's touch burned. Strongest of all was the feeling of safety, being looked after, protected. Being where she belonged.
CJ didn't care to analyze her dreams too carefully. She had expected nightmares and anxiety. She had amazed herself by their absence. Her thoughts drifted to that evening. She had been shaken in the Oval Office, but the safety of the President had reassured her and her proximity to Toby had anchored her. She couldn't move away from him – he was solid and there, and his only thought had been to save her life. Will was younger and fitter, but Toby had got to her first. CJ had tried to thank him when they were alone, but the words wouldn't come out of her mouth. She made some ironic remark about her reflexes instead, but his smile had made it worthwhile. He understood. And she had really, really enjoyed taking his money.
When Larry had asked her why she was so cheerful after being shot at twice in four years, her answer had surprised her. It had tripped off her tongue and she had meant every word. She believed in herself and she believed in the people she worked with. She believed in their power and their will to do good. She believed in her President and she believed in Toby. She had faith.
CJ blinked twice and pulled the sheet up under her chin. She was worried about Toby. He had seemed so on the ball that evening, so good humored; he and Will were quite a team now – mutually supportive, yet competitive. They had ganged up on her over her egg theory - she smiled at the sweet memory of her success - but had come running when she called them back and had laughed at her triumphal dance around them. Since then, Toby had looked increasingly haggard and unhappy. He hated being handled, so they had all trodden carefully round him, making sure to keep trivia away. Even Josh had made an effort. CJ really hoped to see him looking better when she got to work.
*
"CJ, would you stay behind a moment, please." Leo asked as he turned back to his desk at the end of Staff. He watched Toby and Josh head off and looked at her closely before speaking again.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, Leo, honestly."
"No repercussions from last week?"
CJ shook her head and he nodded. She turned to go.
"I'd appreciate it if you would have a quiet word with Toby."
She stopped in her tracks and faced him, surprise written over her face.
"I know he's not sleeping," Leo continued, "and I'm not sure how long he can keep this up. I hate to ask you, but you really are the only one who can talk to him about this. Since your egg thing shows you have superhuman powers, see if you can use them to crack Toby. Can I consider it done?"
CJ nodded and smiled. She should have guessed this was coming. Toby looked dreadful.
*
"Hey, Ginger, is he in?"
"Yes, but he has to go to the Hill in five minutes . ."
"It's okay, this won't take long."
CJ poked her head through Toby's door.
"Hi. Can I ask a favor?"
He looked up at her through exhausted eyes and tried to raise a smile. "Sure."
"Can you come over tonight? I need to ask you something. I'll cook if you want."
He looked closely at her. "Anything wrong?" His concern etched deeply on his face.
"No. I'll see you at eight."
Toby grabbed his coat and files. "See you later then. I'm on the Hill for the rest of the day. You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Toby. Bring some wine."
And CJ sped back to her office.
*
CJ lay on her couch with her feet in Toby's lap. Dinner had been her usual standby and she had cooked it for him many times over the years. They had drunk their wine and chatted about old times – Toby looked a little better.
"Come on, CJ. What did you need to talk to me about?"
CJ lifted one of her feet and pressed it against his chest. "Are you having nightmares, Toby?"
He leaned his head back against the top of the couch and groaned. CJ shifted her legs and moved until she was kneeling next to him, her chin resting on his shoulder.
"Tell me, Toby. If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine. . . and there's an offer I don't make every day." She smiled.
Toby lifted his hand to cover his eyes.
"Don't mumble. I'd hate to mishear and get it wrong. Just think what I could do with the wrong information . . ."
"CJ . . ." Toby looked her straight in the eyes and she caught her breath at the horror and unhappiness in his expression.
"I . ." He sighed. "I have problems getting to sleep and even when I eventually get there, I'm awake within the hour. I dream . . . I dream . . . that you are already dead by the time I have pushed you to the floor." Toby's voice broke. "How can you not dream? How can you sleep? How can you not believe that you are cursed when people are trying to kill you? How can you have faith?"
CJ considered Toby carefully. She lifted her hand and let her fingers trail across his cheek.
"Come with me."
She pulled him to his feet.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to show you what gives me faith."
She led him to the bedroom. "Take off your pants and shirt and get into bed."
"CJ . . ." Toby looked shocked.
"Just do it." She ordered as she stripped down to her camisole and panties.
When she turned round, Toby was lying in her bed in just his boxers, looking very much like a frightened rabbit. She slid in beside him.
"Turn on to your side and lean slightly on your stomach." She whispered.
"What are you doing, CJ?" He asked as he did as he was told.
CJ pressed herself up against Toby, draping her left leg over his thigh and running her fingers through his hair. She rested her cheek on his back.
"I'm showing you why I don't have nightmares. I'm showing you why I felt safe. You are safe too. And loved. Now go to sleep."
Toby closed his eyes.
The End