TITLE: D.I.Y. Dramas
AUTHOR: Jo. T
GENRE: Humor
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None that I can think of
SUMMARY: Toby, C.J. and Sam help decorate Josh's apartment
and then the title pretty much says the rest, dramas, traumas
and disaster ensues!
FEEDBACK: meetjoynoone@yahoo.co.uk - am interested to hear any
feedback, good, bad or indifferent.
ARCHIVE: If anyone wanted to it would be an honor. Just let
me know where
DISCLAIMERS: I'm just borrowing these great creations, they
remain the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and lots
of other people who are to countless and powerful to name!
It was a hot Sunday in D.C. and Toby Ziegler, C.J. Cregg and Sam Seaborn had been coerced into helping paint Josh Lyman's apartment. After an unfortunate flooding incident caused by the old lady who lived upstairs, the sitting room below had been totalled. There was a lot of water damage to the carpet and obviously the ceiling. This called for a major operation and a mass mobilisation of resources. Sam, C.J. and Josh were all in an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, making the most of the confluence of their day off and the warm weather. The bearded Communications Director however, decided to play it safe, instead opting for a comfortable pair of slacks and a flannel shirt.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" Sam Seaborn said hopping up and down on one leg.
"Sam?" questioned Press Secretary C.J. Cregg.
"Ow!"
"Whatcha do, Spanky?"
"S'up?" Josh Lyman asked as he entered the room, which was strewn with dustsheets, paint cans, rollers and brushes.
"Sam's somehow hurt his leg. Maybe he should be given a purple heart."
"Huh?"
"War wounds gained in the process of the benevolent act of decorating your apartment." Sam continued hopping up and down, his mouth open expressing mute screams.
"Do you want to take the weight off your bad leg there, Sam?"
"It's not my leg." He gasped as he continued to hop.
"Why the heck are you jumping up and down like a mad thing, Sam?" Toby asked as he walked into the room, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
"I cut my hand with the screwdriver when it slipped, then I gouged out a great hunk of skin when the bracket thing I was trying to take down, which I swear was actually painted *into* the wall, snapped down." Sam said displaying his bloody hand for any and all to see.
"Ouch" C.J. grimaced whilst Josh turned away.
"Sam!" Toby called and led him into Josh's bathroom, one hand grabbing his arm by his wrist and hoisting it into the air, the rest of Sam trailing behind while the other one kept a firm grip on the mug of coffee it had in it.
"Only Sam! He's not even managed to get any paint on the walls yet."
"Neither have you, and it's your apartment!" chided C.J. She couldn't help but be amused at Josh's comment, it really could only happen to Sam, but she did have to feel a little sorry for him.
"I have an indisposition towards paint; makes me feel unwell."
"That's not the paint, Josh. It's the prospect that you might actually have to do some work."
"You know, if Donna was here the whole room would have been painted by now."
"That's where you hit the problem, Joshua. Donna isn't here, she's visiting some sick relative somewhere."
"She has left me alone in my hour of need, C.J. She's not a very considerate assistant." C.J. tutted and raised her eyebrows. Sometimes Josh's egocentric nature could surprise even her.
Toby came out of the bathroom.
"Is he O.K.?" asked C.J. "I mean we're not going to have to take him to the ER are we?" Josh snorted and was rewarded with a glare.
"He's fine, he assures me that he's up to date with all his shots and there's hardly a mark on him, there was just a lot of blood, and I'd like to wager that it hurts like hell, especially since I poured a half bottle of antiseptic onto it."
"Why is he still in there?" Josh asked, looking over Toby's shoulder.
"I think that he's just waiting for the pain to subdue a little before he comes back and embarks once more upon this slave-like occupation." Josh scowled at Toby as the soft click of the bathroom door opening was heard.
"You O.K. Spanky?"
"I'll live. Now give me a damn paintbrush and let me get on." Sam grumbled.
C.J. cautiously opened the paint can in front of her with the screwdriver responsible for the maiming of the hand of the Deputy Communications Director and revealed a particularly interesting color.
"Josh, were you blind-folded when you chose that paint?" Toby scoffed.
"No. I chose it 'cos it's nice and warm and Donna assures me that terracotta in very in vogue at the moment."
"Terracotta may well be in vogue at the moment, Josh, but that, my friend is NOT terracotta."
"Sure it is, C.J. It says right there on the tin. See: 'Terracotta'."
"It might say that Josh, but look at the color. Does that look like terracotta to you?" Josh shrugged nonchalantly.
"It looks like salmon-pink to me, buddy."
"Bite, me Sam!" Josh harrumphed, thrusting a paintbrush in the direction of his best friend. "Now just put it on the walls."
They painted quite happily for the next couple of hours, well Sam, C.J. and Toby (true to the form of almost any workman around the world, with a cup of coffee not far off) painted happily while Josh 'supervised' not quite so happily. C.J. was tackling the ceiling with a roller on an extendable pole, which had been the butt of many jokes on the way, whilst Toby was gloss painting the furniture that had all been pushed into the middle of the room."
"Sam, what are you doing? Don't you think that it would be quicker if you used a roller like C.J. or that big-ass brush that's on the table?"
"I'm cutting-in, Josh, and you can't use a brush that's too big otherwise there would be absolutely no point to the exercise." Sam replied as he cockled atop the ladder.
"Are you sure that's the right way to do that?"
"Pretty sure, Josh, yeah."
"Josh." Toby bellowed.
"Toby?"
"How about you go out and get some lunch, if you're not going to do anything here on the painting front."
"Go out and get lunch? Now that is a good idea, my friend. Only question is, where should I go? Do I want to go to that new Chinese place or to Pete's Pizza? They have a really nice terrace with a great view of the Potomac."
"I didn't actually mean that you went out for your lunch, Josh, I meant that seen as we have been kind enough - or stupid enough - to give up our Sunday to paint your apartment, then you should at least do something to help and go out and pick us up some lunch!" Toby's tirade was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Josh looked all about him, but could not see the offending article.
"All right, who's stolen my telephone?"
"No one's stolen your phone, Josh. It's still in here somewhere, you just can't see it."
"But where is it, Claudia Jean?" Came the whine.
"I think that I may know where it is."
"Sam?"
"I think that there is a possibility that I may have covered it with a dust sheet."
"Which dust sheet was it, Sam?"
"Let me think." Sam stopped a moment to contemplate this conundrum. "It was a, oh yeah! It was a beige one." Sam beamed with pride.
"A beige one?"
"Yes!" said Sam triumphantly.
"Sam!" Josh yelled. Sam looked quizzical and glimpsed across toward C.J. for an explanation.
"They're all beige, Spanky."
"My bad." Sam grinned ruefully, while Josh ferreted about beneath all the dust sheets. After moments of scrabbling and shuffling there came a resounding:
"Aha! Got it!" As Josh snatched the phone out and answered it. "Josh Lyman. Leo?. It's going O.K. Progress isn't very fast though." Josh glared at Sam. "Mr. President, what can I do for you, Sir?. You wanted to know if Toby had killed me yet? Why would he do that?. What do you mean; you know how I get?. I'm putting you onto the speaker phone now, Sir." Josh hit the button and Leo McGarry and Jed Bartlet's voices could be heard coming from the telephone.
"Hey guys, how's it going?"
"It's going fine, Sir. Progress would be much quicker if Josh helped, given that it's his apartment and all and." Toby explained.
"Ow. C.J. You got paint in my eye!"
"Sorry, Sam, but you will get in the way of the super-sonic, super-speedy, super-sexy painting machine!"
"Toby, what was that?" Leo asked.
"C.J. is painting the ceiling with her roller above Sam who is cutting in on the walls, and it seems that C.J. has got some rogue paint that has made its way into Sam's eye."
"You should wash that out Sam, and then go to the emergency room to get them to check it out." Jed advised.
"You could get them to check out your hand while you're there, Sam, just make sure there's no lasting damage to that either."
Toby led Sam (who was clutching his right eye with his paint-covered hand despite Toby's attempts to prise it off), to the bathroom once more.
"C.J. What's Sam done to his hand?"
"He had an accident with a screwdriver and some brackets and took a little skin off of his hand, it's nothing. Toby cleaned it up for him then doused it in antiseptic."
"Ouch!"
"Yep. That pretty much covers what Sam said."
"I imagine Josh is being his usual useful self." Leo asked.
"Let me say this: I do not think that Josh's Do It Yourself competence, or lack thereof, would come as a huge surprise."
"Hey! I am in the room, you know. And it's not because I'm incompetent. Its because the paint makes me feel funny!"
"Josh, the paint you've chosen is enough to anyone feel funny!"
"Josh's usual good taste?"
"Most definitely."
"What color?"
"Terracotta."
"Salmon pink." Josh and C.J. said simultaneously.
"It's making me feel nauseous." C.J. added.
"It's not the color, Claudia Jean, it's the fumes. I don't do well with the fumes. I have a delicate system."
"Josh, I would believe that point much more readily if you had not spent the entire morning in here supervising us from a vantage point amidst the quagmire of paint cans and dust sheets." Josh could hear the sniggers of Leo and the President.
"It is the fumes. I don't feel well, right now, even as we speak. Sam, get your ass out of my bathroom right now!"
"Is his performance worthy of an Oscar, C.J.?"
"Pretty damn near I should say, Sir."
"What exactly is he doing? I can hear banging." Asked Leo, incredulous as to the extent to which his deputy would go in attempts to prove a point.
"He's hammering on the bathroom door telling Sam and Toby through the key hole to vacate the room now. He's still knocking. He's knocking some more. And now he's stopped knocking, I can't see why, oh wait, yes I can. The door is opening. Josh has gone very quiet and Toby is standing in the doorway. Josh has turned round and is coming into the room right now. I can't quite see what he's. Oh."
"C.J.?"
"He's picked up a paintbrush and has started cutting in around the skirting."
"Seriously?"
"Yes Sir."
"You're not just having a little fun with us?"
"No, Mr. President, I am not."
"Well, will wonders never cease?"
"He doesn't need to go to the ER." Toby informed everyone as he and Sam entered the room.
"If he got paint in his eye, he really should." Said Leo.
"He didn't get paint in his eye. There's nothing in his eye. The paint just splashed nearby."
"He's O.K.?"
"He's fine. We cleaned it out with water just in case, but its fine, and you know what? I think I should get at lest an honorary medical license for this. I think I have surpassed all requirements of emergency medicine to excess."
"Well, good work there Toby!" said the President. "Now I think that we should leave you kids to get on otherwise you'll never finish today."
"Thank you Sir." They all chirruped. It really didn't surprise them that the President and Leo had telephoned to have a little fun at their expense.
It was decided, since Josh's new preoccupation with painting the skirting, that they should call out for lunch, ordering Chinese food, which they had delivered right away and was eaten almost as soon as it had arrived!
After they had eaten they returned to their painting duties, Toby to his gloss, whilst C.J. moved on to doing the walls with her roller, while Sam used his roller to cover the top part of the wall whilst still up the ladder and Josh painted the lower half of the wall with his roller. Each of them were painting away quite happily - even Josh! - when he saw something move.
"Ughhhh! It's a spider, it's a great big, fat hairy spider. Do something."
"Don't look at me." Toby said. "Animals are not my friend."
"I'm not touching the spider. They have great long legs. It freaks me out."
"You do know how ironic that sounds coming from your mouth, right, C.J.?"
"Woman of irony, that's me Joshua."
"Ick. Ick, ick, ick, ick, ick." Josh jumped up.
"What now, Josh?" Sam groaned.
"It's coming toward me, Sam, get it out, get it out. Sam!" Sam sighed, popped down his paint brush and began his descent of the ladder, the bottom step of which was placed right across the doorway. He got down and walked over to where Josh was backing off, saw the spider, just a common house spider, picked it up and headed for the door. He forgot however, that he would have to lift his back leg to hurdle over the bottom of the stepladder. As he went to bring his back leg forward he felt his left shin impact with the edge of the step. It was made out of what Sam would doubtless describe as hardwood, very hard wood in fact, with very pointed corners, that hurt!
"Ow!" Sam turned around and plonked himself on the bottom step. "Ow." He muttered again.
"Woah, Sam, you know, that's got a graze on it and it's started to bruise already?"
"Yeah, I got that Josh. I knew that. And do you know how I knew that? The damn great lump that is now appearing on my leg!" Sam looked down at his hands. "And do you know what's even worse?"
"The spider never made it to the great outdoors and is once again going to terrorise me inside my own apartment?" Josh said.
"No, Josh. I squashed it when I slammed my hands out to stop myself from falling over!"
"Well, at least that's one problem dealt with."
"Oooh, Sam. You're leg's bleeding." C.J. said fascinated by the slow trickle.
"Oh great." Sam moaned.
"Into the bathroom, Sam." Toby said wearily, inclining his head toward the bathroom door. "Here we go again." He muttered as a follow up.
"Don't you dare drip blood on my nice new carpet, Samuel Norman." Josh called to the back of a very dejected Sam earning him a glare from Toby and a playful bat from C.J.
"Ooooh." Sam groaned in response. Toby grinned. The two went into the bathroom and Toby closed the door behind them (as he had on numerous occasions previously), to spare his Deputy some of the shame squealing like a girl brings when antiseptic is poured on an open wound.
Josh and C.J. resumed their painting duties. The room, almost done now cast a healthy glow on its two remaining occupants; a reflection from the egregious paint Josh had selected.
After the two had been gone for about five minutes, there was a sudden yelp and a series of swear words coming from Josh's bathroom accompanied by a very long chorus of "ows". Toby stuck his head around the door.
"Josh, you're out of antiseptic. I used the last up on Sam's leg. Maybe you should buy in bulk next time you plan to spend the day decorating with Sam."
"Is he O.K.? It sounded like you were trying to kill him in there!" C.J. was very concerned about the youngest member of the Senior Staff.
"He's fine." Toby shrugged, withdrawing his head. No sooner had it gone, than it was back again. "Oh, I forgot. Josh, have you got any gauze and tape anywhere. His leg should be fine, I just wanted to put something on it to protect it from all the paint and crap in here and I'm just guessing here, but I don't think a band aid will be big enough."
"There should be some in the spare room along with some other 'Sam' emergency supplies."
"You have a set of emergency supplies just in case Sam stops by?"
"Sure."
"What do you got?" C.J. was very interested at this notion. "P.J.'s? A toothbrush? A spare t-shirt and sweat pants?"
"Why would I keep all of that C.J.? Sam usually has a spare one of everything like that in the holdall he keeps in his car boot, and the one he keeps in his office, and also the one he keeps by his front door." C.J. couldn't believe it. She knew that Sam was a control freak, but that seemed to take things a little too far.
"It's like he's waiting to go into labor or something. Doesn't want to risk leaving home without the necessaries he's gonna need at the hospital. My thing is, if that does not constitute your Sam emergency supplies, what does?"
"Asprin, tylenol, milk of magnesia for when he gets hyper-stressed about something and it makes him sick. I keep band-aids and bandages, (triangular and regular, that is tubular and the crepe things that come in rolls), gauze, tape, rolls of plaster, a few compress pads for if he cuts himself, a stash of gel packs, the neck brace that he had to get when he had a run in with the thing and a sling, I tried to get hold of some crutches too, but they're proving to be a little elusive at the minute. Toby, you might also be interested to know that there are several large bottles of different brands of antiseptic, both sprays and the regular stuff that comes from bottles, antiseptic creams and other germ killing products along with lots of things that I don't quite know what they are." Josh finished his list.
"I didn't need a full inventory Josh, I just wanted to know if you had any tape and gauze."
"Sure. They're in one of the crates of Sam's emergency supplies in the spare room." Toby groaned at this.
"Yes, Josh, that much I worked out, now could you either tell me where they are." Josh was about to open his mouth to say in the spare room when Toby cut him off "and I mean specifically where they are, not just in one of the crates of supplies in the spare room, or could you, please, and this one is my favourite, go get them for me." Josh obeyed, not yet ready to face the wrath of Toby again and fetched a large collection of gauze, tape and a spray of all-singing, all-dancing, antibacterial antiseptic. He handed them over to Toby who took them in the bathroom to dress the wound on Sam's leg.
Josh went and rejoined C.J. who was just finishing off painting the walls. It was amazing how quickly she had gotten on once the distractions and obstacles had been removed, the offending items being Josh, Toby and Sam. She put down her roller, resting on the top of the paint can.
"Did you just say crates?"
"I'm sorry C.J." Josh had no idea what she was going on about.
"Did you say crates? You said you had some emergency supplies for Sam in the spare room and mentioned that it was kept in crateS. Here's my thing, there's actually more than one of them?"
"Yes, there's more than one of them, there are actually four of them and they are all filled to the brim."
"And you keep them here on the off-chance that Sam might hurt himself when he comes over?"
"Let's be honest, here, C.J. It's not like, entirely out of the realms of possibility, I mean, he really is a bit of klutz."
"That he is." C.J. agreed nodding her head sagely as Sam and Toby emerged from the bathroom. C.J. couldn't help but smile at the walking wounded. Sam's right leg was bare but for a few splotches of paint, while below the knee of his left leg was a mass of white. Toby had neatly dressed Sam's wound and made it look like he was wearing a giant, white shin pad, to boot. "Speak of the devil. Really Sam, what are we gonna do with you, it's not safe to take you anywhere."
"Please don't, C.J." Sam asked.
"I see you're done." Toby said, quickly changing the subject.
"Sure am." Josh said. C.J. cleared her throat.
"Excuse me?"
"Well, C.J. helped." Josh conceded while a look of indignation appeared on Toby's face.
"If that's how you're going to show your gratitude to me Joshua Lyman, I will never do anything to help you out ever again." C.J. grumbled.
"Touche."
"You wanna go out and get something to eat?" Toby asked as his stomach rumbled making him realise that despite the copious amounts of coffee he had consumed, it was actually a long while since they had all eaten lunch. "I want pie."
"You always want pie."
"Josh, do I have to remind you that I too volunteered my Sunday afternoon to help paint your apartment, even if I did actually spend a substantial proportion of that time in your bathroom with Sam." Sam grinned, lighting up his whole face.
"I think pie sounds good. We should all go out and get some dessert."
"Count me in!" said C.J. and her Toby and Sam ran for the door.
"Wait! Guys, just hang on a minute. Guys! A hand moving my furniture back wouldn't go amiss." Too late, they had already gone. Josh saw that there was no other choice but to grab his keys and chase them to catch up. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." He shrugged.
Needless to say that when the President and Leo heard about the day's exploits first thing on Monday they were not wholly surprised. Sam had a slight limp from where his leg had gotten stiff, the goose egg and the bruise really coming out nicely after a day to mature. Toby threw himself into his speech writing work with gusto, relieved that he had nothing further to paint. Donna on the other hand listened to two versions of the day, one where Josh single-handedly did everything while everyone else just stood around and got in the way (no prizes for guessing who told that story), and one that gave a more colorful breakdown of everyone's contribution right up to the point where Toby ate a whole diner completely out of pie!
THE END
SUMMARY: Toby, C.J. and Sam help decorate Josh's apartment
and then the title pretty much says the rest, dramas, traumas
and disaster ensues!
FEEDBACK: meetjoynoone@yahoo.co.uk - am interested to hear any
feedback, good, bad or indifferent.
ARCHIVE: If anyone wanted to it would be an honor. Just let
me know where
DISCLAIMERS: I'm just borrowing these great creations, they
remain the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and lots
of other people who are to countless and powerful to name!
It was a hot Sunday in D.C. and Toby Ziegler, C.J. Cregg and Sam Seaborn had been coerced into helping paint Josh Lyman's apartment. After an unfortunate flooding incident caused by the old lady who lived upstairs, the sitting room below had been totalled. There was a lot of water damage to the carpet and obviously the ceiling. This called for a major operation and a mass mobilisation of resources. Sam, C.J. and Josh were all in an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, making the most of the confluence of their day off and the warm weather. The bearded Communications Director however, decided to play it safe, instead opting for a comfortable pair of slacks and a flannel shirt.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" Sam Seaborn said hopping up and down on one leg.
"Sam?" questioned Press Secretary C.J. Cregg.
"Ow!"
"Whatcha do, Spanky?"
"S'up?" Josh Lyman asked as he entered the room, which was strewn with dustsheets, paint cans, rollers and brushes.
"Sam's somehow hurt his leg. Maybe he should be given a purple heart."
"Huh?"
"War wounds gained in the process of the benevolent act of decorating your apartment." Sam continued hopping up and down, his mouth open expressing mute screams.
"Do you want to take the weight off your bad leg there, Sam?"
"It's not my leg." He gasped as he continued to hop.
"Why the heck are you jumping up and down like a mad thing, Sam?" Toby asked as he walked into the room, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
"I cut my hand with the screwdriver when it slipped, then I gouged out a great hunk of skin when the bracket thing I was trying to take down, which I swear was actually painted *into* the wall, snapped down." Sam said displaying his bloody hand for any and all to see.
"Ouch" C.J. grimaced whilst Josh turned away.
"Sam!" Toby called and led him into Josh's bathroom, one hand grabbing his arm by his wrist and hoisting it into the air, the rest of Sam trailing behind while the other one kept a firm grip on the mug of coffee it had in it.
"Only Sam! He's not even managed to get any paint on the walls yet."
"Neither have you, and it's your apartment!" chided C.J. She couldn't help but be amused at Josh's comment, it really could only happen to Sam, but she did have to feel a little sorry for him.
"I have an indisposition towards paint; makes me feel unwell."
"That's not the paint, Josh. It's the prospect that you might actually have to do some work."
"You know, if Donna was here the whole room would have been painted by now."
"That's where you hit the problem, Joshua. Donna isn't here, she's visiting some sick relative somewhere."
"She has left me alone in my hour of need, C.J. She's not a very considerate assistant." C.J. tutted and raised her eyebrows. Sometimes Josh's egocentric nature could surprise even her.
Toby came out of the bathroom.
"Is he O.K.?" asked C.J. "I mean we're not going to have to take him to the ER are we?" Josh snorted and was rewarded with a glare.
"He's fine, he assures me that he's up to date with all his shots and there's hardly a mark on him, there was just a lot of blood, and I'd like to wager that it hurts like hell, especially since I poured a half bottle of antiseptic onto it."
"Why is he still in there?" Josh asked, looking over Toby's shoulder.
"I think that he's just waiting for the pain to subdue a little before he comes back and embarks once more upon this slave-like occupation." Josh scowled at Toby as the soft click of the bathroom door opening was heard.
"You O.K. Spanky?"
"I'll live. Now give me a damn paintbrush and let me get on." Sam grumbled.
C.J. cautiously opened the paint can in front of her with the screwdriver responsible for the maiming of the hand of the Deputy Communications Director and revealed a particularly interesting color.
"Josh, were you blind-folded when you chose that paint?" Toby scoffed.
"No. I chose it 'cos it's nice and warm and Donna assures me that terracotta in very in vogue at the moment."
"Terracotta may well be in vogue at the moment, Josh, but that, my friend is NOT terracotta."
"Sure it is, C.J. It says right there on the tin. See: 'Terracotta'."
"It might say that Josh, but look at the color. Does that look like terracotta to you?" Josh shrugged nonchalantly.
"It looks like salmon-pink to me, buddy."
"Bite, me Sam!" Josh harrumphed, thrusting a paintbrush in the direction of his best friend. "Now just put it on the walls."
They painted quite happily for the next couple of hours, well Sam, C.J. and Toby (true to the form of almost any workman around the world, with a cup of coffee not far off) painted happily while Josh 'supervised' not quite so happily. C.J. was tackling the ceiling with a roller on an extendable pole, which had been the butt of many jokes on the way, whilst Toby was gloss painting the furniture that had all been pushed into the middle of the room."
"Sam, what are you doing? Don't you think that it would be quicker if you used a roller like C.J. or that big-ass brush that's on the table?"
"I'm cutting-in, Josh, and you can't use a brush that's too big otherwise there would be absolutely no point to the exercise." Sam replied as he cockled atop the ladder.
"Are you sure that's the right way to do that?"
"Pretty sure, Josh, yeah."
"Josh." Toby bellowed.
"Toby?"
"How about you go out and get some lunch, if you're not going to do anything here on the painting front."
"Go out and get lunch? Now that is a good idea, my friend. Only question is, where should I go? Do I want to go to that new Chinese place or to Pete's Pizza? They have a really nice terrace with a great view of the Potomac."
"I didn't actually mean that you went out for your lunch, Josh, I meant that seen as we have been kind enough - or stupid enough - to give up our Sunday to paint your apartment, then you should at least do something to help and go out and pick us up some lunch!" Toby's tirade was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Josh looked all about him, but could not see the offending article.
"All right, who's stolen my telephone?"
"No one's stolen your phone, Josh. It's still in here somewhere, you just can't see it."
"But where is it, Claudia Jean?" Came the whine.
"I think that I may know where it is."
"Sam?"
"I think that there is a possibility that I may have covered it with a dust sheet."
"Which dust sheet was it, Sam?"
"Let me think." Sam stopped a moment to contemplate this conundrum. "It was a, oh yeah! It was a beige one." Sam beamed with pride.
"A beige one?"
"Yes!" said Sam triumphantly.
"Sam!" Josh yelled. Sam looked quizzical and glimpsed across toward C.J. for an explanation.
"They're all beige, Spanky."
"My bad." Sam grinned ruefully, while Josh ferreted about beneath all the dust sheets. After moments of scrabbling and shuffling there came a resounding:
"Aha! Got it!" As Josh snatched the phone out and answered it. "Josh Lyman. Leo?. It's going O.K. Progress isn't very fast though." Josh glared at Sam. "Mr. President, what can I do for you, Sir?. You wanted to know if Toby had killed me yet? Why would he do that?. What do you mean; you know how I get?. I'm putting you onto the speaker phone now, Sir." Josh hit the button and Leo McGarry and Jed Bartlet's voices could be heard coming from the telephone.
"Hey guys, how's it going?"
"It's going fine, Sir. Progress would be much quicker if Josh helped, given that it's his apartment and all and." Toby explained.
"Ow. C.J. You got paint in my eye!"
"Sorry, Sam, but you will get in the way of the super-sonic, super-speedy, super-sexy painting machine!"
"Toby, what was that?" Leo asked.
"C.J. is painting the ceiling with her roller above Sam who is cutting in on the walls, and it seems that C.J. has got some rogue paint that has made its way into Sam's eye."
"You should wash that out Sam, and then go to the emergency room to get them to check it out." Jed advised.
"You could get them to check out your hand while you're there, Sam, just make sure there's no lasting damage to that either."
Toby led Sam (who was clutching his right eye with his paint-covered hand despite Toby's attempts to prise it off), to the bathroom once more.
"C.J. What's Sam done to his hand?"
"He had an accident with a screwdriver and some brackets and took a little skin off of his hand, it's nothing. Toby cleaned it up for him then doused it in antiseptic."
"Ouch!"
"Yep. That pretty much covers what Sam said."
"I imagine Josh is being his usual useful self." Leo asked.
"Let me say this: I do not think that Josh's Do It Yourself competence, or lack thereof, would come as a huge surprise."
"Hey! I am in the room, you know. And it's not because I'm incompetent. Its because the paint makes me feel funny!"
"Josh, the paint you've chosen is enough to anyone feel funny!"
"Josh's usual good taste?"
"Most definitely."
"What color?"
"Terracotta."
"Salmon pink." Josh and C.J. said simultaneously.
"It's making me feel nauseous." C.J. added.
"It's not the color, Claudia Jean, it's the fumes. I don't do well with the fumes. I have a delicate system."
"Josh, I would believe that point much more readily if you had not spent the entire morning in here supervising us from a vantage point amidst the quagmire of paint cans and dust sheets." Josh could hear the sniggers of Leo and the President.
"It is the fumes. I don't feel well, right now, even as we speak. Sam, get your ass out of my bathroom right now!"
"Is his performance worthy of an Oscar, C.J.?"
"Pretty damn near I should say, Sir."
"What exactly is he doing? I can hear banging." Asked Leo, incredulous as to the extent to which his deputy would go in attempts to prove a point.
"He's hammering on the bathroom door telling Sam and Toby through the key hole to vacate the room now. He's still knocking. He's knocking some more. And now he's stopped knocking, I can't see why, oh wait, yes I can. The door is opening. Josh has gone very quiet and Toby is standing in the doorway. Josh has turned round and is coming into the room right now. I can't quite see what he's. Oh."
"C.J.?"
"He's picked up a paintbrush and has started cutting in around the skirting."
"Seriously?"
"Yes Sir."
"You're not just having a little fun with us?"
"No, Mr. President, I am not."
"Well, will wonders never cease?"
"He doesn't need to go to the ER." Toby informed everyone as he and Sam entered the room.
"If he got paint in his eye, he really should." Said Leo.
"He didn't get paint in his eye. There's nothing in his eye. The paint just splashed nearby."
"He's O.K.?"
"He's fine. We cleaned it out with water just in case, but its fine, and you know what? I think I should get at lest an honorary medical license for this. I think I have surpassed all requirements of emergency medicine to excess."
"Well, good work there Toby!" said the President. "Now I think that we should leave you kids to get on otherwise you'll never finish today."
"Thank you Sir." They all chirruped. It really didn't surprise them that the President and Leo had telephoned to have a little fun at their expense.
It was decided, since Josh's new preoccupation with painting the skirting, that they should call out for lunch, ordering Chinese food, which they had delivered right away and was eaten almost as soon as it had arrived!
After they had eaten they returned to their painting duties, Toby to his gloss, whilst C.J. moved on to doing the walls with her roller, while Sam used his roller to cover the top part of the wall whilst still up the ladder and Josh painted the lower half of the wall with his roller. Each of them were painting away quite happily - even Josh! - when he saw something move.
"Ughhhh! It's a spider, it's a great big, fat hairy spider. Do something."
"Don't look at me." Toby said. "Animals are not my friend."
"I'm not touching the spider. They have great long legs. It freaks me out."
"You do know how ironic that sounds coming from your mouth, right, C.J.?"
"Woman of irony, that's me Joshua."
"Ick. Ick, ick, ick, ick, ick." Josh jumped up.
"What now, Josh?" Sam groaned.
"It's coming toward me, Sam, get it out, get it out. Sam!" Sam sighed, popped down his paint brush and began his descent of the ladder, the bottom step of which was placed right across the doorway. He got down and walked over to where Josh was backing off, saw the spider, just a common house spider, picked it up and headed for the door. He forgot however, that he would have to lift his back leg to hurdle over the bottom of the stepladder. As he went to bring his back leg forward he felt his left shin impact with the edge of the step. It was made out of what Sam would doubtless describe as hardwood, very hard wood in fact, with very pointed corners, that hurt!
"Ow!" Sam turned around and plonked himself on the bottom step. "Ow." He muttered again.
"Woah, Sam, you know, that's got a graze on it and it's started to bruise already?"
"Yeah, I got that Josh. I knew that. And do you know how I knew that? The damn great lump that is now appearing on my leg!" Sam looked down at his hands. "And do you know what's even worse?"
"The spider never made it to the great outdoors and is once again going to terrorise me inside my own apartment?" Josh said.
"No, Josh. I squashed it when I slammed my hands out to stop myself from falling over!"
"Well, at least that's one problem dealt with."
"Oooh, Sam. You're leg's bleeding." C.J. said fascinated by the slow trickle.
"Oh great." Sam moaned.
"Into the bathroom, Sam." Toby said wearily, inclining his head toward the bathroom door. "Here we go again." He muttered as a follow up.
"Don't you dare drip blood on my nice new carpet, Samuel Norman." Josh called to the back of a very dejected Sam earning him a glare from Toby and a playful bat from C.J.
"Ooooh." Sam groaned in response. Toby grinned. The two went into the bathroom and Toby closed the door behind them (as he had on numerous occasions previously), to spare his Deputy some of the shame squealing like a girl brings when antiseptic is poured on an open wound.
Josh and C.J. resumed their painting duties. The room, almost done now cast a healthy glow on its two remaining occupants; a reflection from the egregious paint Josh had selected.
After the two had been gone for about five minutes, there was a sudden yelp and a series of swear words coming from Josh's bathroom accompanied by a very long chorus of "ows". Toby stuck his head around the door.
"Josh, you're out of antiseptic. I used the last up on Sam's leg. Maybe you should buy in bulk next time you plan to spend the day decorating with Sam."
"Is he O.K.? It sounded like you were trying to kill him in there!" C.J. was very concerned about the youngest member of the Senior Staff.
"He's fine." Toby shrugged, withdrawing his head. No sooner had it gone, than it was back again. "Oh, I forgot. Josh, have you got any gauze and tape anywhere. His leg should be fine, I just wanted to put something on it to protect it from all the paint and crap in here and I'm just guessing here, but I don't think a band aid will be big enough."
"There should be some in the spare room along with some other 'Sam' emergency supplies."
"You have a set of emergency supplies just in case Sam stops by?"
"Sure."
"What do you got?" C.J. was very interested at this notion. "P.J.'s? A toothbrush? A spare t-shirt and sweat pants?"
"Why would I keep all of that C.J.? Sam usually has a spare one of everything like that in the holdall he keeps in his car boot, and the one he keeps in his office, and also the one he keeps by his front door." C.J. couldn't believe it. She knew that Sam was a control freak, but that seemed to take things a little too far.
"It's like he's waiting to go into labor or something. Doesn't want to risk leaving home without the necessaries he's gonna need at the hospital. My thing is, if that does not constitute your Sam emergency supplies, what does?"
"Asprin, tylenol, milk of magnesia for when he gets hyper-stressed about something and it makes him sick. I keep band-aids and bandages, (triangular and regular, that is tubular and the crepe things that come in rolls), gauze, tape, rolls of plaster, a few compress pads for if he cuts himself, a stash of gel packs, the neck brace that he had to get when he had a run in with the thing and a sling, I tried to get hold of some crutches too, but they're proving to be a little elusive at the minute. Toby, you might also be interested to know that there are several large bottles of different brands of antiseptic, both sprays and the regular stuff that comes from bottles, antiseptic creams and other germ killing products along with lots of things that I don't quite know what they are." Josh finished his list.
"I didn't need a full inventory Josh, I just wanted to know if you had any tape and gauze."
"Sure. They're in one of the crates of Sam's emergency supplies in the spare room." Toby groaned at this.
"Yes, Josh, that much I worked out, now could you either tell me where they are." Josh was about to open his mouth to say in the spare room when Toby cut him off "and I mean specifically where they are, not just in one of the crates of supplies in the spare room, or could you, please, and this one is my favourite, go get them for me." Josh obeyed, not yet ready to face the wrath of Toby again and fetched a large collection of gauze, tape and a spray of all-singing, all-dancing, antibacterial antiseptic. He handed them over to Toby who took them in the bathroom to dress the wound on Sam's leg.
Josh went and rejoined C.J. who was just finishing off painting the walls. It was amazing how quickly she had gotten on once the distractions and obstacles had been removed, the offending items being Josh, Toby and Sam. She put down her roller, resting on the top of the paint can.
"Did you just say crates?"
"I'm sorry C.J." Josh had no idea what she was going on about.
"Did you say crates? You said you had some emergency supplies for Sam in the spare room and mentioned that it was kept in crateS. Here's my thing, there's actually more than one of them?"
"Yes, there's more than one of them, there are actually four of them and they are all filled to the brim."
"And you keep them here on the off-chance that Sam might hurt himself when he comes over?"
"Let's be honest, here, C.J. It's not like, entirely out of the realms of possibility, I mean, he really is a bit of klutz."
"That he is." C.J. agreed nodding her head sagely as Sam and Toby emerged from the bathroom. C.J. couldn't help but smile at the walking wounded. Sam's right leg was bare but for a few splotches of paint, while below the knee of his left leg was a mass of white. Toby had neatly dressed Sam's wound and made it look like he was wearing a giant, white shin pad, to boot. "Speak of the devil. Really Sam, what are we gonna do with you, it's not safe to take you anywhere."
"Please don't, C.J." Sam asked.
"I see you're done." Toby said, quickly changing the subject.
"Sure am." Josh said. C.J. cleared her throat.
"Excuse me?"
"Well, C.J. helped." Josh conceded while a look of indignation appeared on Toby's face.
"If that's how you're going to show your gratitude to me Joshua Lyman, I will never do anything to help you out ever again." C.J. grumbled.
"Touche."
"You wanna go out and get something to eat?" Toby asked as his stomach rumbled making him realise that despite the copious amounts of coffee he had consumed, it was actually a long while since they had all eaten lunch. "I want pie."
"You always want pie."
"Josh, do I have to remind you that I too volunteered my Sunday afternoon to help paint your apartment, even if I did actually spend a substantial proportion of that time in your bathroom with Sam." Sam grinned, lighting up his whole face.
"I think pie sounds good. We should all go out and get some dessert."
"Count me in!" said C.J. and her Toby and Sam ran for the door.
"Wait! Guys, just hang on a minute. Guys! A hand moving my furniture back wouldn't go amiss." Too late, they had already gone. Josh saw that there was no other choice but to grab his keys and chase them to catch up. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." He shrugged.
Needless to say that when the President and Leo heard about the day's exploits first thing on Monday they were not wholly surprised. Sam had a slight limp from where his leg had gotten stiff, the goose egg and the bruise really coming out nicely after a day to mature. Toby threw himself into his speech writing work with gusto, relieved that he had nothing further to paint. Donna on the other hand listened to two versions of the day, one where Josh single-handedly did everything while everyone else just stood around and got in the way (no prizes for guessing who told that story), and one that gave a more colorful breakdown of everyone's contribution right up to the point where Toby ate a whole diner completely out of pie!
THE END