Disclaimer: I don't own CJ, her fabulous clothing, or Toby, although, if I had my way…G It all belongs to Aaron Sorkin. The song 'Goddess in the Doorway' belongs to Mick Jagger.
Spoilers: A small one for ITSOTG.
A/N: As always, Molly is the best, and feedback is (practically) better than cheesecake.
You're still amazed at how fast she can leave a room. One minute she's standing next to you, her bracelet catching the light, flashing in your eyes, every time she raised her glass to her lips; the next, she is gone. You find her outside on a bench, smoking a cigarette and crying, when you decide to take a break from the noise inside. She doesn't look up when you say her name, only waves your hand away when you move to put it on her shoulder. It hurts to see her this way, tears and ash falling onto her dress. It reminds you too much of how fragile she looked the first time you saw her.
Demons in the bedroom
Dogs are on the roof
I am in the basement
Looking for the truth
It was summer in L.A., and you couldn't leave town fast enough. The weather made you feel like you were suffocating and all the colours were wrong. Everything in the city was too bright, like it had something to prove. The people you'd spent the morning arguing with certainly did.
She had been sitting on the steps of her office building, staring at a sheet of paper in her hand. Except that she hadn't really been staring at it; more like staring through it. Even from 60 feet away, you could tell that whatever it said was bad news. The look on her face had made you want to take her home with you right then.
And her tears flow like a fountain
Like a river from the mountain
Instead, you opted for asking her if there was anything you could do to help. She'd laughed and said 'only if you can offer me a job'. Six years later, you stood next to her swimming pool and did just that.
Seeing her now makes you wish you had another job to offer her. It worked so well the last time. But this time you can't, because she still has her job. She may hate it some days, but you know she can't think of doing anything else.
There's a goddess in the doorway
Asking how much can I take
And it looks like she's heading my way
There's a goddess in the doorway
Later on, she'll appear in your office, still wearing that red dress, and you'll focus more on the teardrops and ashes than you do on her eyes. She'll ask you to come out to the bar ('just for one drink'), even though you both know it will be many more than that.
And the next morning, as she searches for her cell phone in the corner of your bedroom, you realize that the ashes only add to her.
End