TITLE: "Daughters and Sons"
AUTHOR: mcee - mcee@fangy.net
SITE:
RATING: PG
PAIRING: CJ/Toby
SPOILERS: "25"
***
Kinda funny, considering the company, that he should be the first among us to have children.
Grumpy, cynical Toby whom I love and adore but wouldn't trust to feed Gail were I to leave the country when he isn't, which never happens anyway so the point is, I guess, moot. Our curmudgeon is now a father, and from the shine in his eyes and the twist of his lips, already one I wouldn't like to get in the way of.
He'll make fun of my speechlessness later on, he will, or maybe the others will because this isn't a topic of discussion he and I tend to approach, this thing that isn't, this dancing around each other that never ends. But I guess all things do have an end and this looks like it for this particularly ill-fated non-issue.
One--no, two--lost in one night, two gained in their wake. Yet it could not be any farther from a zero sum, not when it comes to daughters and sons.
So just like that, with a wordless tilt of our heads, I give him up.
And it doesn't matter because Abbey's nails dig through my sleeves, etching her pain where I barely feel it, and I think of children and that having them must be the best and most horrible job in the whole world. Worse than Communications Director, worse than First Lady, and, I speculate, much worse than Press Secretary.
And yet--
(Her sobs claw at something in my gut, just like his unshed tears had.)
--they're always hiring.
AUTHOR: mcee - mcee@fangy.net
SITE:
RATING: PG
PAIRING: CJ/Toby
SPOILERS: "25"
***
Kinda funny, considering the company, that he should be the first among us to have children.
Grumpy, cynical Toby whom I love and adore but wouldn't trust to feed Gail were I to leave the country when he isn't, which never happens anyway so the point is, I guess, moot. Our curmudgeon is now a father, and from the shine in his eyes and the twist of his lips, already one I wouldn't like to get in the way of.
He'll make fun of my speechlessness later on, he will, or maybe the others will because this isn't a topic of discussion he and I tend to approach, this thing that isn't, this dancing around each other that never ends. But I guess all things do have an end and this looks like it for this particularly ill-fated non-issue.
One--no, two--lost in one night, two gained in their wake. Yet it could not be any farther from a zero sum, not when it comes to daughters and sons.
So just like that, with a wordless tilt of our heads, I give him up.
And it doesn't matter because Abbey's nails dig through my sleeves, etching her pain where I barely feel it, and I think of children and that having them must be the best and most horrible job in the whole world. Worse than Communications Director, worse than First Lady, and, I speculate, much worse than Press Secretary.
And yet--
(Her sobs claw at something in my gut, just like his unshed tears had.)
--they're always hiring.