JUST FOR TONIGHT by NineFish
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing: CJ/Josh --WWSotU Dinner Challenge
Rating: PG-13 or R, maybe?
Distribution: Yes, please. But let me know.
Spoilers: To be safe, everything. I started it before "Liftoff", but finished it after it aired.
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Author's Note: I missed the teaser for "Liftoff" when they showed CJ's apartment so I don't have a visual image from which to work. The one I'm using comes completely out of my head. My apologies for any authenticity gaps.
Continuity/Timeline Note: Regarding a reference to Ms. Julia Child – Sadly, in the real world, Julia Child passed away on August 13, 2004. As I understand the West Wing Universe, events are set approximately 2 years behind, so for the context of the story Ms. Julia's still alive and cooking.
"Oh Luuu-cie. I'm hooo-me!"
Josh hip-checked CJ's door closed and slid his backpack from his shoulder to the floor.
"Drop the congas and come give Mama a kiss."
Josh followed her voice to the kitchen, shedding his jacket and loosening his tie. "Kiss the cook? That's gonna depend on what you're serving." He stood at the edge of the kitchen and smiled.
CJ turned from the stove and advanced on him, wielding a wooden spoon. "You, my friend, are in for a treat. I've roasted chicken. I've mashed potatoes. I've brusseled sprouts. And if you listen closely..." she paused, giving Josh a quick kiss on the cheek as a greeting, "...you can almost hear the angels warming up to sing praise of gravy."
Josh dropped himself onto one of the stools flanking the butcher block in the middle of the kitchen and cupped a hand to his ear, "No...no angels, yet. But, I'm pretty sure I hear Julia Child trying to claw her way out of a grave."
"A: She's still alive. B: I'm telling Toby. And C: You're an idiot."
"I brought wine."
"You're forgiven."
FRIDAY, 8:17 pm
As Josh corked the wine and CJ stirred the gravy, they spoke in tandem.
"Any news on..."
"What's the story with...?"
They both stopped.
It had been an impossibly long week. Working in the heart, and living in the shadows, of the Bartlet Administration's White House created a never-ending flood of controversy, change and just all-around upheaval. Throughout the years Josh and CJ had survived more than their fair share of each, professionally and personally. It was expected. But this week, this particular week, the business-as-usual, what's-next, chaotic ebb and flow of DC politics, incomprehensible to those not living the life, had entered an as-of-yet uncharted dimension. And they were tired.
Josh sighed heavily. "Can we just...not. You know, just for tonight, let's not talk about it. No White House, no West Wing. No nuclear emergencies, no bi-partisan agendas, no..."
"...no 'transitional changes', no Congressional bullsh..."
"...no brokering of peace talks, no education reform, no foreign policy..." His voice trailed off and his eyes met hers in a quiet plea. "Can we just for tonight, you know, not?"
CJ thought about it. She thought about this man - a man she thankfully counted among the closest of her friends, a man she suspected of lobbying his way out of the womb – and she thought about the likelihood of Josh Lyman avoiding political discussions, even for just one night.
She weighed her words and started to speak slowly, "As appealing as that sounds in theory Josh, and I'm right there with you I swear..." CJ slowly exhaled and looked around the kitchen, "I think we both know the only way that's gonna happen is if we skip that cheap-ass, White Zinfandel excuse you call wine, and head directly to the good stuff." A full bottle of Cuervo 1800 hit the butcher block with a satisfying thud. "This oughta do it."
"Game on!"
While CJ finished up in the kitchen, Josh wandered around. He checked out the bookshelves, skimmed his finger over the racks of CDs and glanced at the framed photographs scattered around the living room. If he didn't recognize each specific picture, he knew most of the moments they captured. He had shared in the majority of them himself...inaugurations, holidays and birthdays, campaign events...Jesus, that damn goat.
He groaned out loud seeing an image of Toby, twenty years younger, twenty pounds lighter, with a hundred and twenty percent more hair.
"Where was this taken?"
"Which one?" CJ set the timer on the oven and joined him in the living room. "North Beach in San Francisco, at Vesuvio. I'm willing to bet it's Toby's all-time favorite bar. Pretty much the Mecca for Beat poets back in the 50's. Rumor has it that Jack Kerouac before he was, you know, Jack Kerouac, blew off Henry Miller to stay and kick back a few."
"God, Toby looks...happy?" It came out as a question, as if he couldn't believe it.
She smiled broadly. "Yeah, he was. I think it surprised him, too. Brighton Beach meets Baghdad by the Bay...who knew? That's City Lights Bookstore, one of my early venues for public speaking. We went a few times for poetry readings, open-mic stuff."
"You write poetry? I never knew that."
"Not mine, Toby's. He wrote it, I read it. Jesus, I've spent half my life with that man's words in my head."
"I wanna see the shot of you in a beret, drinking expresso and smoking a clove cigarette."
"Sadly, it's packed away with the water bong and Grateful Dead bootlegs."
Josh replaced the picture as his eyes caught sight of another unfamiliar image in a thin silver frame, blocked mostly by the others displayed in front of it. He picked up the black and white print and stared. "Wow. I've...uh...never seen this." He sunk to the couch and held the picture at arms length.
CJ sat on the arm of the couch and brought her hand to rest lightly between his shoulders as she looked at the photo with him. She spoke softly. "That must have been just seconds after he found you."
It was a picture of Sam, CJ and Toby, captured by the zoom lens of a newspaper photographer shooting from the ground near the rope line in Rosalyn. Sam was doubled over, his fisted hands encircling his own body, eyes clenched against the obvious horror in front of him. CJ was half-bent at Sam's side, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other extended stiffly, fingers pressing into Toby's face. Toby, crouched down beside them, grasped at Sam's leg. It was their eyes where Josh's gaze lingered. CJ's eyes, Toby's eyes. Frozen forever in that moment of raw terror.
"How...where did you get this?"
"I really don't know. I found it, and the negative, when I walked into my office one morning, probably a year or so after it happened. Someone slipped it under the door."
CJ's fingers lightly stroked the back of Josh's neck as she struggled for words. "I don't think I can explain why I have it out. It just... I mean... It's not a reminder of that night... I don't mean it to be disrespectful or, or morbid in any way. It's more...it's, I guess a testimony, of sorts? I think to strength. To your strength. And faith, maybe. Mine...all of ours...our collective faith that you would have that strength."
Josh ran one finger over the image, tracing the line of limbs connecting Sam to CJ to Toby to Sam to CJ to Toby.
"It's okay, CJ. Really. I'm just surprised. I've seen pictures of that night; we've all seen them, the same ones. Every year, they're run on the anniversary, and in retrospectives. You can't talk about this presidency without Rosalyn being mentioned, it's just this one... I never thought...I never imagined your ...reactions... before. It's disturbingly beautiful."
They sat quietly looking at the photograph. It was a comfortable, graceful silence, ending only when the light buzz of the oven timer returned them to the moment.
"They keep telling me the sirens are gonna stop..."
"God! Josh, no, the oven, that's the..."
"CJ, calm down, I know," Josh laughed. "Come on, comic relief. Work with me here."
"Jackass." She punctuated this with a smack to the back of his head.
They sat at the small table in the kitchen to eat, a musical soundtrack of Parisian street jazz and smoky Louisiana blues floating between them. They did talk politics, of course they would. Working in the White House wasn't a job. It was a life. It invaded every single aspect of their everyday world. But tonight it invaded a little bit less. Tonight conversations steered easily towards friends, families, fathers. Of what-ifs and did-you-evers. They compared war stories of blind dates and tequila toasted their worst break-ups. And they laughed, a lot.
"Tell you what, CJ, you want to do this every week, that's fine with me."
"Real food, see it's good. Not out of a box, not pre-packaged or frozen. Good ol' home-cooked comfort food."
"Since when do you cook?"
"I cook."
"I thought you couldn't cook. I can't remember, something about recipes, or something..."
"It's not that I can't cook, Joshua. It's that I usually choose not to. I actually really like the cooking part, the getting in there with your hands all dirty part, new ingredients, new techniques. The after-cooking consequences? Hate 'em. I detest cleaning up the mess. Gimme a well-stocked kitchen and a live-in housekeeper, I'm happy. Leo...that man had it made. I used to invite myself over and commandeer his kitchen on a semi-regular basis. But, you know, for just me, it's not quite worth it. It's less fun cooking for one."
"Hmm...that's what Amy used to say, too. She really liked cooking on the weekends. Think that's a woman thing?"
"Absolutely not. Okay, let's see...Wolfgang Puck, Emeril Lagasse, Jacques Pepin, Mario Batali..."
"Chef-Boy-Ar-Dee, Duncan Hines..."
"That's what I'm saying... Speaking of Amy, you ever hear from her at all?"
Josh rolled his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. "No, not for a while. She's around, I think, I don't know. It's complicated."
"I'll bet. You're getting quite the reputation there, you know?
"Wild Thing finally catch on?"
"Hard to believe it hasn't. No, I'm saying you might have better luck with women if didn't keep getting them fired. Mandy, Amy. You're a professional career killer."
"I haven't killed anyone's careers..."
"Well certainly not for lack of trying. You're...you're 'Pink Slip' Lyman." CJ grinned wickedly and crooked her little finger in front of her face, "Maybe 'Pinky' for short? You know, as it were."
Josh reached out and gently covered CJ's hand with both of his. He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, "Don't, ah, don't ever do that to a man. We'll never speak of this again."
CJ laughed out loud as she got up from the table and moved their plates to the sink. "Tell you what, clear the rest of the table and we'll call it even. Do it without breaking anything and I might even let you have dessert."
"Now you're talking. What's cookin', good lookin'?"
"Gingerbread. Light and fluffy. If I timed it right, it should be done now."
Josh watched her from the table as CJ opened the oven door and withdrew a pan. She waved her arms a bit to waft the scent throughout the kitchen. It struck him, suddenly, how comfortable and poised CJ always seemed, no matter what the situation. He was surprised to find her as naturally at ease here, in loose draw-string pants and a grey, zippered sweatshirt – in the kitchen, for God's sake – as she is wearing Armani, reporting a still-breaking worldwide emergency live on international TV.
Josh thought about it. He thought about this woman – a woman he thankfully counted among the closest of his friends, a woman he suspected could stand toe-to-toe and win a war of words with anyone, anyone in the world – and he thought about the possibility that somewhere in the way-far-back recesses of her mind, she might just be a little lonely.
Josh stood and moved a few dishes from the table to the counter. "Why are you still single, CJ?"
She barely turned her head as she glanced over at him, "Couldn't tell you, Josh. Think it's got something to do with my gingerbread? Cause, seriously, I've been thinking of adjusting the allspice."
Josh lifted himself to sit on the edge of the counter, "Oh, I'm sure that's it. Relationships are all about bringing the spice."
She raised one brow in a sly smirk, "I've certainly never had a problem in that department, mi amour."
Josh exhaled and said more to himself than for her to hear, "Oh, I have no trouble believing that."
She moved closer, trailing her fingers over the collar of his shirt and murmured seductively, "You like whipped cream, Josh?"
He swallowed hard, one eye twitching involuntarily, "I, uh...uh..."
A wide smile spread across her face and she winked at him. "For the gingerbread, SpiceBoy." She opened a cabinet next to him and pulled out an electric mixer. "Okay, you really want to do this?" She repeated his earlier question, "...Why am I still single?... "
As she thought and then spoke, CJ worked fluidly in the kitchen. She pulled a mixing bowl and beaters from the freezer and retrieved a pint of cream from the fridge. "Did you know the President was thinking of becoming a priest until he met Abbey? That's why he went to Notre Dame, to become a priest and devote his life to the service of God. Not a decision people make lightly, I'm told. But then, along comes Abbey. And for one woman... a woman at that point he had pretty much known for a nanosecond, he changed the entire direction of his life. Everything. Everything that had previously defined him, everything that he knew to be true. For one woman, he just tossed it all. Just pitched it right out a stained-glass window."
She turned at looked at Josh pointedly. "I broke up with a boyfriend once because he wanted me to change my brand of toothpaste."
"Ever regret that?"
"Him? No. But others, maybe...Years ago, I was involved with – for too short a time, really – involved with a brilliant and devoted and damn-near-perfect man..."
"Was it...?
"A brilliant and devoted man, Josh. Let's just leave it at that, shall we?"
"Yeah, okay."
"There was just that... spark, in all the right places. We matched. Intellectually, emotionally, politically – you know, I sometimes hate that that's so important to me, but I can't get around it, it just is."
He nodded in agreement. "What about, you know..." he waggled his eyebrows with boyish charm, "...ah, physically?"
"Physically, oh yeah, we matched. There was heat, you know? He could throw one look across a room and make me, literally – and I do mean literally – see stars." CJ absently lifted her hand from the mixer and carelessly licked a drop of whipped cream from her thumb. She was momentarily lost.
Josh's eyes lingered on her mouth. Too long. She recovered before he did, and when their eyes met, both had the grace to slightly blush.
He cleared his throat, "And...what happened?"
"Oh, what didn't? We're just, too much alike in so many ways. Too strong-minded, too stubborn, too entrenched in the absolutes of our own convictions. We both want the same things; we just sometimes have very different ways of getting there. You know, you get two people like that, constantly battling over every, little issue...sometimes we butt heads so hard I, again, see stars. Not the same thing."
Josh, not sure whether it was a good idea or not, quietly pointed out, "You know you slipped into the present tense there, CJ."
"Yeah, well ... Shut up." She looked up at him hesitantly expecting to see a knowing grin.
He wasn't grinning. His face was colored with thoughtful understanding. It was a look, not of sympathy, but of empathy, and it touched her. CJ poked him in the shoulder. "Why are you still single?"
He shrugged and shook his head back and forth while he thought about it. "Priorities? Circumstances? A complete and utter lack of the energy it takes to invest in something to really make it work ...I'm just guessing."
"You ever get lonely?"
"I don't think that's the right word, but I get ... something."
"Yeah. Me too."
Josh reached from his seat on the counter and caught CJ's wrist. Sliding his palm to hers, he gave a gentle squeeze. He looked at her.
CJ didn't intend for her eyes to drop to his lips, but they did.
Josh didn't anticipate tugging her arm towards him, but he did.
So she stood, her palms on his thighs, and felt his hand warm the base of her neck. And when she realized a gentle pressure was drawing them together and saw his eyes flutter closed, it took her completely by surprise when she moved slightly away from his kiss.
"Josh... we can't."
He tipped her head up until their eyes connected. He said in no more than a whisper, "Is it that you can't? Or is it that you're choosing not to?"
Not looking away, she said, "I don't want a mess..."
"There's not going to be a mess. Not with us. Tonight, just for tonight...we can."
CJ felt the throb of her heartbeat when she leaned into his kiss. His lips were soft, and they parted easily at the first touch of her tongue. She stepped forward between his knees and brought her arms up to wrap around his neck as the kiss deepened. His hands, splayed across her back pulled her closer and pressed her chest firmly against his.
It was a sensual exploration, that kiss. Their mouths moved together, slowly and deliberately. Josh slid his tongue against hers in a slick caress and then retreated, teasing her to follow. Her hands, now tangled in his hair, clenched and he heard an almost-purr of pleasure escape from somewhere low in her throat.
When their kiss slowly ended, CJ tucked her chin into the dip between his shoulder and neck and held him tightly. Josh sprinkled soft kisses along her lower jawline and retuned her hug.
CJ shifted in his arms, turning so that she was leaning against one strong leg and rested her head on his shoulder. A hand moved to stroke his neck. He kissed her temple, enjoying the weight of her body against his.
"Wow. This is spectacularly inappropriate," CJ sighed.
"Yeah." Josh's body pushed against hers as he slid down from the counter and moved in front of her. "But, really, how much do you care about that right now?"
CJ's head tipped back as Josh's mouth went to her neck and dropped a wet open-mouthed kiss on her pulse point.
"Oh, you know, not so much," CJ managed to say before sensation took over. She caught her lower lip in her teeth as a wave of warmth passed through her. She held Josh's head to her neck hoping like hell he wouldn't stop the flickering of his tongue.
CJ felt her legs tremble a bit. "C'mere," she kissed into his ear and led him to the couch. They stretched out on their sides, bodies flush. Josh leaned over her and captured her lips once more. Her kiss was hungry. She arched up against him, opening her mouth to let their tongues tangle and glide in a smooth mutual stroking. She could feel Josh's body melt seamlessly into her own. She groped at his shirt, pulling it from the waist of his pants. Skin. She needed to feel his skin.
She ran her hands up and down his back, kneading her fingers over his taut muscles as far as the fabric of his shirt would allow. She felt the vibration of Josh's moan against her mouth and felt the pull of the zipper on her top. CJ's fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt.
When the kiss broke Josh dipped his head and breathed in heavily. CJ's breath was ragged as well, and her pulse raced and heart pounded to the same beat of the steady throb low in her belly.
One arm caught under CJ's body, Josh's free hand gently tugged at the zipper of her sweatshirt until the two pieces separated. He pushed them away to reveal a thin, cotton tank top. His hand skimmed under the tank and rested on her waist, his thumb moving back and forth in slow arcs over her flesh.
Josh was slightly hesitant as he moved his hand up her rib cage. He watched her eyes for reaction. As she worked down his shirt, freeing the buttons, CJ watched Josh watching her. And then, she couldn't help it. She just had to laugh.
Josh groaned and fell back to the couch. "What?! Arrrrrr...CJ...?! Why...what?"
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." she kept repeating it, trying to stifle her laughter. She buried her head against his open shirt, and used it to muffle her giggles.
He was doing his frustrated best to keep composed, but as she laughed harder, it became impossible for him to keep from laughing right along with her.
"What is wrong with you?!?"
"I don't know...I don't know." CJ managed to quell her laughs enough to lift her head and see his dimples flashing. She reached over, kissed his cheek and cupped his face. Her eyes twinkled with a smile, "You're about to feel me up here, Josh. Give me some time to process this one."
The shifted a bit on the couch, Josh lay on his back, one arm crooked behind his head, the other around CJ as she half-lay on top of him.
"This is weird, don't you think? Don't you think this is weird?" she asked him, still smiling. CJ propped her head up on one elbow and idly rubbed her other hand along his side.
"Oh God, I don't know...Give me a second to catch up..." Josh shook his head to clear it and vigorously rubbed his hair.
They lay there for a moment, their bodies calming down. He asked her seriously, quietly, "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm totally fine." She lay her head down on his chest and he felt her smile. "You really are so sweet sometimes."
"I'm not always sweet. I can show you. I can be rugged and forceful... and, and, you know, not-sweet, if that's the thing..."
"Josh..."
He kissed the top of her head, "I know." He waited for a second. "Hey, at least I got to second."
"You totally did not get to second."
"What's second?"
"Ummm...Lips above the hips?"
"What the hell...lips above the hips?"
"You know..." She motioned to her chest. "You didn't even cop a feel."
"You laughed!"
"You were taking too long! I had too much time to think."
"You're a freak."
"You'll never know."
"Ohhhhh!"
She propped herself up so they were eye to eye. "The thing is, Joshua, I do love you. You know that. But I don't, you know, love you, love you. Not that I think you necessarily have to love someone to... looooove someone... you know what I'm saying? But, I love you enough not to be able to do both."
"Yeah, I get it. I do. And you're right."
"Oh thank God, 'cause I'm not even sure I get it, and I said it."
CJ pulled a soft blanket from the back of the couch and covered them. They lay there, snuggled together. "This is it," she said softly. "This part. This is the something that we miss."
Josh hugged her closer to him. "How 'bout then we do this tonight."
CJ sighed. "Yeah, just for tonight."
END