"The sound of it was like a grace"- Story 2 of the series Terrible Faith.
Disclaimers: Not mine. Nor are the excerpts from authors. Due respect to the creative forces! Toby-centric, with a good deal of Josh. Filter1970
The thing that gave me the mos' trouble was, it didn' make no sense. You don't look for no sense when lightnin' kills a cow or it comes up a flood. That's jus' the way things is. –Tom Joad
With darting and apprehensive eyes, Toby Ziegler walked into his office for the first time in nearly a week, carrying a cold coffee like a shield and not acknowledging the choruses of "Hey, welcome back!" calls that greeted him. He knew they would all allow him some room, and certainly no one expected their surly boss to have transformed after the longest vacation he'd had in years. Forced vacation, Toby thought wearily. He closed his door behind him, tossed his bag on the sofa, and collapsed next to it. Closing his eyes, Toby allowed himself to relax physically, the better to allow his mind to race.
After burying his mother more than a week and a half ago, Toby had found himself unable to concentrate, subject to severe vertigo, and without any appetite. He'd struggled gamely along, ignoring his body's distress signals until he was crippled by nightmares and vertigo of a nauseous caliber. As usual, he'd called CJ—she'd dragged him in to her doctor, who'd determined Toby's iron levels were low, he was dehydrated, and his blood pressure was rather high. Some rest, medication, and food had set him mostly back on track, and he'd convinced CJ that he could come to work for a half-day. She'd brought him in and watched him make his way to his office, dubious.
When he'd been sidelined by the grief and his exhausted body's reaction to it, Toby had been shocked. He'd never given much thought to his body, priding himself on his stamina but otherwise not doing much to maintain it. It was as much a matter of convincing himself he'd be fine as it was taking medicine, eating well, and sleeping. He'd wake in CJ's huge bed with a start at night, worried he wouldn't be able to speak or move, images of his young adulthood paralyzing accident fading back into the nightmare. She'd been remarkably kind and patient, and part of Toby knew he'd come back for a half-day too early because he couldn't watch CJ worry anymore.
A faint tap on his door made him sit up a little. "Come in."
Josh Lyman opened the door slowly and peeked in, a smile gathering force on his face as he saw Toby on the sofa. "Hey, Toby," he said, his voice more gentle than usual. Toby smiled slightly in return.
"Josh—come in."
The Deputy Chief of Staff moved into the room and shut the door again, leaning against it in the remarkably boyish manner he had. "It's good to see you back," Josh commented, his smile threatening to crack his face. Toby noted Josh's dimples were quite apparent, then wondered why he'd noticed.
"It's nice to be seen," Toby answered, standing and taking off his coat. Josh observed with hidden apprehension the ill-fitting suit jacket. My god, he's lost some serious weight, Josh thought. Toby tossed his coat on the sofa and sat back down. "You gonna sit?"
Josh plopped into a chair opposite Toby and leaned forward. "How you feeling?"
"Ah. Well, I certainly feel better than I did a week ago. I'm doing the good stuff, you know. Eating, sleeping, taking the pills. You?" Toby smiled at Josh.
"I'm good, man," Josh said with a laugh. "I kinda liked doing the briefings. CJ's worried about what I screwed up, but who really needed Canada anyhow?"
Toby laughed, surprising himself. He liked Josh, liked his political savvy mixed with an irrepressible boyish glee. Josh and Sam Seaborn made a good team, though Toby didn't think anyone could be more boyish than Sam.
"I'm sure she'll fix it. And if not—well, most of us are lawyers anyway. Hey—Josh, did Leo or the President say anything about my, uh, you know, situation while I was gone?"
Josh considered, then lied. "Nah. Leo asked where you were staying, that's all." The truth was that either Josh or Sam would get a phone call twice a day asking for updates on Toby. The calls had made Sam a nervous wreck, and Josh had tried to call Leo and give an update before being called. He wondered if Toby knew he was lying.
Toby did. He thought about calling Josh on the bad bluff, then reconsidered. He knew Josh wouldn't lie without a reason, and wasn't ready to ask. "Thanks. How's Sam holding up? I felt guilty leaving him all the work."
Josh waved his hand. "Ah, you know Sam. He's okay. A little frazzled, but he's fine."
"Good. Have either of you slept lately? It does wonders for you," Toby said with a smile.
Laughing, Josh leaned back in his chair. "That's what I hear… you must have gotten in some good sack time—um, yeah."
Toby noticed Josh's eyes had flickered up and above his head, and turned to look. Sam Seaborn was standing and gesturing to Josh through the glass. He stopped when he saw that Toby had noticed him and smiled sheepishly. Opening the door, he stepped in and stood awkwardly.
"Hi Sam," Toby said shortly. He took in his deputy's appearance and thought wow, he looks exhausted. And worried.
"Toby, how ya doing? Good to see you back." Sam was grinning, but looked tightly wound.
"I'm okay. Thanks. And thanks for all the work, really," Toby said. Sam sat on the edge of Toby's desk and carefully observed his boss.
"Not a problem. You doing a half-day?"
"Yeah. Just wanted to make sure I still had an office."
Sam gasped in mock hurt. "Toby! I'd never let them promote me while you were this side of the grave. You should know that."
"He was deciding which font to get on the replacement door sign," Josh cut in with a grin. Toby laughed.
"Yeah, I bet. Look—really, I appreciate you both just, well, doing your jobs so well. I mean, I wouldn't have been able to take any time off if I didn't have you two and CJ to cover my ass. Thank you."
The sincerity in Toby's voice made Josh blush and Sam suddenly found his shoes intensely fascinating. They both muttered that it wasn't anything, and Toby felt bad about making them self-conscious.
"But—you're slacking now, so get out of here so I can work," Toby growled, standing and opening the door. Sam scooted off the desk and smiled, welcoming Toby back again as he led the way out. Josh moved toward the door and stopped in the doorway, looking back.
"Toby—promise me something."
"What?"
"Talk to me before you leave, okay? Please?"
Toby was surprised. "Sure. Any particular reason?"
"I just—it's—look, just come find me and I'll buy you a coke or something. Please?" The note of entreaty in Josh's voice was foreign to Toby and he nodded his head, bewildered.
"Yes. Now go."
Three hours later, stomach growling, Toby went into CJ's office and found her missing. He turned to ask Carol where she was and heard a faint thump and "shit". Turning slowly, he saw CJ coming out from under her desk, rubbing her head and holding her glasses. "CJ? Should I ask?"
"I lost a kiss," she answered as she sat back in her chair. Toby walked closer.
"A kiss?"
CJ held up a silver tidbit with a white flag attached. "It was my last one."
Toby sat in the chair opposite CJ. "Oh. Okay, at least that makes sense now."
"Whatever. Bumped my head. How are you?" CJ asked as she unwrapped the chocolate and popped it in her mouth.
Toby spread his hands. "I'm good. Getting tired of being asked how I am, but I'm good. You?"
"Tired and I have a headache. Oh hey—it's like 615. You ready for home?"
"That's what I came to tell you. Josh wants to talk to me before I leave. I was going to get a ride. He really—I think he wants to say something to me."
CJ thought for a moment. "Hm. Probably declaring love. You two gonna get food?"
"I dunno, probably. Just thought I'd let you know. Besides, I should probably be getting back to my place. I can have him drop me or take a cab."
"All right. Maybe he'll have enlightenment or something. Hey, did you see Sam?"
"Of course."
"I think he took you being ill badly. He seemed kinda shaken when I saw him." CJ saw Toby falter a moment. "Could be he's tired," she added kindly.
"Yeah. He looks it. Do you—well, I'll talk to him. I didn't notice it." Toby was thinking hard about Sam's appearance now—had Sam been edgy?
"Okay. He called once or twice a day to check on you, like Josh did, you know."
"Yeah. I'll—nevermind. I'll call you later, all right? Thanks for bringing me in, too. I really appreciate it."
Toby got up to go and paused when CJ called his name. He turned, hand on knob. "Yeah?"
"One more thing," CJ said. Toby closed the door and walked back to her desk as CJ came around it to meet him.
"Yes?"
CJ reached out and gently took Toby's hand, pulling him closer to her. He smiled a little shyly and squeezed her hand. "Take care and be good," she said, leaning into the scarce space between them and giving him a light kiss. He felt the warmth on his lips and grinned.
Without thinking he pulled her to him and embraced her tightly, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of love for her. CJ held him briefly, panicked a little at her emotions, then gave him a little shove. "G'wan, scram," she said with a smile. Toby gave her hand one last squeeze, smiled gently, and left. CJ shook her head and wished she had another Kiss.
Sam was sitting in his office staring at his laptop when Toby knocked. "Hey," Sam said, surprised.
"Hey. You should be home."
"You too," Sam answered.
"Josh and I are gonna hang out a bit, he wants to talk to me about something." Toby shrugged his shoulders to indicate he didn't know what Josh wanted.
"Oh. Oh, okay. I'm just gonna—I'm working on the Ag bill. Wanna try something, then I'll get home. You feeling all right?"
Toby tried to frown. "Don't stress about me. You got enough to worry about. Go sleep."
Sam smiled. "You ordering me home, chief?"
"Yes. Go home. Now." Toby thought he almost sounded convincing.
"In fifteen minutes. Tell Josh hi for me." Sam smiled again, then bent his head to his work. Toby shook his head and went to find Josh.
Donna Moss was trying to hustle Josh out the door when Toby appeared. "Toby, he's been here since 7am, make him go home so I can!"
Toby shrugged. "He told me to come find him."
"Joshua!"
Josh came back from a corner of his office where he'd been looking for a folder. "I found—hey, Toby! Donna, go home. Toby and I are gonna talk a bit."
Donna looked annoyed. "Fine. Well, now I know if I need him to move I call Toby, the Enforcer. That's what I'm gonna call you from now on, Toby—the Enforcer."
"If it makes you happy," Toby said.
"Schmuck," Donna said, going to get her coat.
"You mind with the Yiddish?" Toby said in amusement. Donna came back and poked Josh in the chest once.
"Ow," he said.
"A pair of schmucks. Don't forget to check your messages and your calendar. Good night," Donna said, leaving them speechless.
Toby came into Josh's office and sat, followed by Josh. "She likes to bring on the Yiddish," he sighed. Josh sat on his desk.
"Yeah. I've been pissing her off all day—I keep losing things that are right in front of me."
"Nothing new."
Josh nodded. "Yeah. Hey, look. Can I borrow you for like an hour or so? We can head down the street to Phelan's. I'll buy ya a coke—you're still on the drugs, right?"
Toby shrugged. "Yep. I'd like to get back to CJ's before 8 or so—can we be done by then?"
"Oh yeah. Lemme get my jacket."
Toby watched as Josh shrugged on his jacket. "So, what's this all about?"
Josh stuffed papers in his backpack. "What's what?" he asked, not looking.
"Why'd you want to talk with me? Not that I don't, you know, not that I'm not happy to see you again."
Josh turned and slung his backpack over one shoulder. "Because you're not happy to see me, to see anyone, and I'm willing to take bets you're not happy—period."
Toby was stunned into silence, a half-frown frozen on his face. Josh opened the door to leave and Toby mechanically stood. He preceded Josh out and was still processing Josh's statements as they walked out of the bullpen.
Sam Seaborn was standing in his kitchen, doing some yoga stretches while watching CNN and talking to CJ on the speakerphone after his nightmarishly long day at work. He couldn't bring himself to simply sit down and relax, feeling overly wound-up. He was discussing it with CJ when Toby's name came up.
"You know, in a way, CJ, and this is gonna sound bad, so let me just preface it—"
Across town CJ snorted back a laugh, swallowed her mouthful of sour cream and onion Pringles, and lowered the TV volume down. She was determined to lounge a little and wind down before Toby came back, and was wearing a camisole and jogging shorts. "It's perfectly okay to say something without editorializing, Sam," she said, swallowing.
"Hey, I'm a speechwriter, sue me," Sam replied, his voice fading a little as he bent forward to stretch his back.
"Stop the calisthenics, willya?" CJ hollered over the phone.
"Gotta be limber. Look, what I was going to say is that I kind of dreaded coming back and finding Toby. That sounds horrible, god. I mean, I didn't know what to expect, and I was worried about what he'd be like, or look like, you know?"
"Yes. I didn't let him know how often you guys called to check on him. I think it would've freaked him out a little."
Sam frowned. "I didn't think he'd care."
"Sam, you should know by now that he does care. He hates showing any of it, but he's more in love with you guys at work than himself, or his brother, probably. When Josh was shot I didn't think he'd recover from it—it really scared him. You're his little brothers—the kind he didn't get a chance to beat on." CJ added the last part with a laugh, aware that what she'd said would be disarming to Sam, who respected and looked up to Toby.
Coming out of a final backbend, Sam sighed and sat in a kitchen chair. "Wow. I thought the only person he was in love with was you."
The minute he said it, Sam realized it was a tactical and personal blunder. As much as almost everyone in the office knew Toby was in love with CJ, and the press secretary was amiable to the idea, no one was allowed to acknowledge this in a tacit unspoken command. Sam and Josh had discussed their friends' attraction for one another over drinks but had never allowed themselves to mention it to either CJ or Toby.
Sam stood reflexively in his kitchen, mouth half-open, trying to form a response to his own faux pas. He heard CJ stop breathing for a half-beat. "Oh, CJ, I mean—oh, I didn't—"
"Well, Sam, say what's on your mind, why don't you?" CJ finally managed. The concept was not entirely foreign to her mind—more than once she'd thought about life with Toby, and dismissed it as completely unworkable and impractical. She had hoped, however, that the staff would be able to keep the possibility of CJ and Toby getting together a kind of acknowledged secret—and CJ was surprised Sam had been so indiscreet.
Sam closed his eyes and covered them with one hand, sighing. "CJ, I'm so sorry. That was tactless. Please forget I said it, all right? And if you won't forget it, just slap me upside the head next time we meet, 'kay?" He was pleased to hear CJ laugh.
"All right. Don't get stuck in a pretzel pose or whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay. Have a good night."
CJ hung up the phone and grinned a little. She knew she had something to annoy Sam Seaborn with for a while, and she relished it. She also felt like—well, CJ, like you wanna dance around the room singing "Can't help loving that man of mine". CJ giggled again at the image in her head, smiled thinking of Toby, and channel-surfed with a vengeance.
Toby was leaning back in his chair at a table in Phelan's, Josh across from him. The younger man was leaning on the table, Sam Adams in front of him, looking intently at Toby. They'd been there for an hour and Toby had said about four sentences.
Josh stopped speaking for a minute and considered his friend. He had been surprised at how easily Toby had agreed to come with him, and hoped it was a good sign. Of all the many people he'd known in his life, Toby was among the top three people who never acknowledged feelings and pain. Josh marveled at it sometimes, but right now he was desperately trying to get Toby to see it could be okay to hurt and be vulnerable. I know what that feels like, and it hurts, and boy—Toby isn't going to like it when it finally hits him, Josh thought before plunging on.
"You want another coke?" Josh asked. Toby shook his head, gesturing with his half-full glass. "All right. Oh, hey—I forgot to tell you. While you were gone Sam confiscated all your bouncy balls. No more whap, whap, whap on his wall."
Toby smiled, to Josh's surprise. "What—are you telling me I don't have any balls?" he asked with his deadpan understatement.
Josh gaped, then sputtered out laughter, spraying a light mist of beer toward Toby. Toby laughed himself, and he felt something stiff and distant shift inside.
"Toby—man, you gotta warn me when you're gonna do that! Sorry about the beer."
"S'okay. And hey, Josh—thanks."
Josh wiped his mouth with his hand. "For?"
"Just—for getting me out of my own head for a while. For worrying about me. And I hate admitting it, so don't remind me ever again, but I appreciate the concern. I know what you're trying to do."
Josh saw the seriousness on Toby's face. "Toby, I know how you're feeling. And I know what you might go through. I don't want to see you make the same mistakes about it that I did." He reflexively rubbed his chest over the bullet wound from Rosslyn. "Because it'll suck, Toby."
Toby sighed and sat back again. He raised his hand at a passing waiter. "Can I get a Scotch, double, no ice or water? Thanks."
"Toby, should you—"
"One drink won't knock me out. Two won't. And if three would, I'd order a bottle and walk home. Just drink with me for a while. I promise you I'll be okay, Josh."
Josh ordered another drink himself and looked at Toby closely. "Don't promise me that. Don't."
Toby stopped mid-drink and lowered his glass. "All right. Deal."
At eleven-fifteen CJ was startled out of sleep by a bang against her door, followed by a loud shush. She fell off the sofa with a squawk and scrambled up clutching her remote control. She listened carefully and heard whispering voices, then the sound of a key entering the lock and turning.
Josh half fell in, holding Toby up, both men a few points north of legally drunk. Josh caught himself on the hall table and had just turned the corner into the living room when he ran into CJ.
"Josh! What in the hell?" CJ hollered at him, her voice echoing in the room.
"CJ, please, I—can't you help me get him seated? Please, I'm gonna fall down soon."
They struggled with a semi-conscious Toby to the sofa and dropped him on it. He lay peacefully, head lolling on the arm of the sofa. Josh dropped into a chair and CJ stood in amazement.
"I—I don't even know where to start, Joshua! What the hell were you all doing?"
Josh gestured vaguely. "I took him out—for a coke, CJ, I swear. I talked for hours trying to see how he was doin', you know—worried about him. And then—he ordered a drink. I told him—but he said he hadn't even been taking his medication and stuff, and—"
"He said what? And you believed him? Joshua Lyman, I swear to god I will beat your ass."
"But he wasn't even affected by the drinks! Hell, I'm in worse shape. Oh, CJ, I really was trying, I swear." Josh trailed off, sheepish under CJ's glare.
CJ sighed and moved over to Toby, who was still only partially awake. She noted he was pale and sweaty. "What did you two do, run a marathon?"
"He—he and I took the train—then walked, at least kinda. I mostly carried him. I'm really tired."
"Just fall asleep there then. Josh, how much did he have to drink? Can you remember?"
"I—maybe four? I was a few beers ahead. What's up?" Josh was fading fast but aware of something in the air. He shucked his coat and flopped back into the chair.
"Damn. He's still been taking the pills, at least twice a day. One of them can kinda react badly with alcohol. He didn't throw up, did he?"
"No," came back the sleepy reply. CJ turned to see Josh almost asleep. She rose, threw a blanket from the recliner over him, and went to turn the taps on in her tub. For just a minute, she sat on the edge of the tub, half-tempted to laugh or scream. Then, grabbing a towel, she went out to the living room.
CJ was pleased Josh had passed out and was snoring, because she knew he'd be embarrassed for Toby. CJ shook Toby violently until his eyes opened. The deep brown eyes were unfocused and confused. He looked around until his eyes fell on CJ.
"Uh," he said weakly.
"Uh yourself. I need you to get up." CJ said as she worked Toby's coat and jacket off.
Toby's eyes closed again. "Can't."
CJ pulled off his shoes and unbuckled his belt. She was tugging his pants down when he opened his eyes and swiveled his head around in shock.
"What-?"
"Well, if you don't want me to strip you down you better get up, Tobus. Come on, I'll help you."
Toby threw an arm over CJ and they struggled up together, Toby's pants falling down as they moved. He cursed a little as she helped him walk out of the pants and into the bedroom. She sat him down on her bed and helped him take off his shirt and tie, and pulled off his socks.
"CJ, I'm sorry, I am," Toby whispered. She nodded at him, aware he could barely keep his eyes open, and hauled him back up. They made it into the bathroom and Toby halted.
"Toby, come on, you're sweaty and you stink. Hop in the bath."
"I can't," he said softly. CJ looked and saw his eyes were wide and dazed. "I can't move, I'll fall," Toby finished.
"Jesus. Come on, I can help—" With CJ's help, shuffling along the floor, Toby managed to sit on the edge of the tub. He had to close his eyes to keep from vomiting or passing out hard.
"Can you lean back?" CJ asked. Toby shook his head slightly.
"I'll be sick."
"Oh god. Come on, look, I can help you. Lean into me." Sighing a little, and tossing decorum to the wind, CJ sat behind Toby on the tub edge and pulled him into her body. He was shivering and clammy and CJ felt her heart skip when she realized how sick Toby felt. With a little gasp, she slipped backward into the tub, pulling Toby in with her so she landed under him, back against the back of the tub. Water slopped over the edge and CJ had to laugh.
Toby's eyes had opened when they landed in the water. "Hey!"
CJ pulled him closer so his back was against her chest. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here, you'll be fine." She saw him turn his head and look up at her.
"CJ?"
"What?"
"Nothing."
They simply lay in the water for while, CJ humming to herself and singing under her breath. She enjoyed Toby's weight on her, even as she wondered if she'd ruin her camisole.
She had just taken up the washcloth and shower gel from the tub ledge and was carefully rubbing down Toby's shoulders when she began singing "God Bless the Child" out loud. Toby opened his eyes slightly at the music but didn't move, just listened.
CJ worked her way down Toby's arms with the cloth, enjoying the smell of the lavender soap and a clean Toby. She could feel his muscles jump under her hands and wondered how asleep he really was.
She had just commenced bathing his chest when he spoke. "That was like a grace," he whispered.
"Toby?"
He kept his face averted. "The sound of the song—the sound of it was like a grace. Beautiful."
CJ smiled at the back of Toby's head. "Thanks. Glad you're up, I'm soaked here."
"CJ, please don't move."
"Still dizzy? Josh said you'd had some drinks, and I—"
"No. I mean—" Toby turned with an effort to look at her. "—I mean, would you stay. With me. Please."
CJ was shocked at the vulnerability in Toby's eyes. She knew he was making an effort to even stay awake, could feel his exhaustion and illness in his body, but yet he was trying. It's the sweetest thing I've ever seen, she thought.
She touched his nose gently with the washcloth and smiled down at him. "Okay, Toby. I don't want you to drown in my tub."
"No, CJ—don't. Just be here. God, I—"
Gathering all his strength, Toby half-turned in the tub, so CJ had to shift to one side. Toby propped himself up on an elbow in the awkward space and reached out a shaking hand to CJ's shoulder. "I'm sorry for everything. But please—I think I need you to stay. I can't—I mean I won't cope. Please, CJ." Toby shifted his eyes away from hers, feeling the awkwardness of the moment. "And you know I love you. I—Jesus!"
Toby slid back down in exhaustion in the tub and CJ had just enough time to slide back under him. He ended up leaning against her with her arm around his shoulders. She smiled down at him, a little frightened.
"I—Toby, I don't know what to say. Are you okay? I mean—look. You need me here, I'll be here, sweets. Can you let it go for just the night? So I can clean you up and get you out of those stupid cow-print boxers?"
"They're not stupid."
"They are, and you know what? So are you," CJ said, and leaned down to kiss Toby.
Toby's eyes widened at the kiss, then he closed them gratefully and relaxed a little. CJ ended the kiss and leaned back. "Whoa," Toby breathed.
"Yeah. Look—let's get cleaned up and to bed. Deal with it in the morning."
"'kay."
CJ pushed Toby to a sitting position and scrubbed him down quickly, laughing a little when she ran her hands down to pull off Toby's boxers. He stopped her hands and managed to pull them off himself, shyly pulling his knees up. When he was scrubbed and clean, and looked a little better, CJ helped wrap him in a towel and led him to her bed.
Toby hesitantly lay back, worried he'd be sick, then relaxed into the bed. CJ removed the towel and pulled the sheet over him, then drew the duvet up to his chin. "Still cold?"
"No. Where's Josh?"
"Passed out in the living room," CJ said as she stepped back into the bathroom to take off her own wet clothes. Toby got a glimpse of her slim silhouette in the door before she reentered wrapped in her robe. She smiled at him and went out to check on Josh.
Josh was snoring with mouth hanging open, awkwardly curled up in CJ's chair. CJ smiled down at him, carefully shifting the back pillow so Josh was less cramped and very gently pulling Josh's shoes and mostly undone pants off his legs. CJ wondered why Josh had unbuttoned his pants anyway—did he expect to get lucky or something?
After making sure Josh was semi-comfortable and still alive, CJ went back into her room. Toby was asleep and breathing regularly if a little shallowly. She smiled down at him, turned off her bedside lamp, and got into bed.
Two hours later, CJ woke to a struggling next to her in the bed and turned groggily toward the commotion. Her eyes widened as she saw Toby struggling to sit up, his face a shade of red unnatural in anybody. CJ jumped up and turned to him, frightened.
Toby could feel himself begin to panic, unable to draw in a clear breath. He couldn't understand what was happening, why he felt his lungs turning liquid and cold, but knew he needed to breathe very badly.
CJ helped him sit up and watching him trying to draw in breath. "Toby? Toby, talk to me!"
Toby turned panicked brown eyes to her, desperate gasps coming loud and fast. He placed one hand on his chest and shook his head—I can't breathe.
"Oh shit—oh god! Come on Toby, breathe, dammit!"
Brown spots appeared in Toby's vision as he began to lose consciousness. He was trying to cough but didn't seem to have enough air to bring forth a cough. He flailed an arm out and CJ caught it, and with it his panic.
"No! Toby, please, please don't do this! Breathe goddammit!" CJ yelled.
Toby collapsed back, struggling ceased and eyes closed. CJ pulled him up again, slammed him hard twice on the back, and when he didn't respond, bent over him and started mouth-to-mouth.
Four, five breaths, and Toby started to cough hoarsely, eyes watering with the effort to breathe. His eyes opened and flashed wildly around, settling on CJ's stricken face. He made an effort to steady his breathing until he could pull in air without feeling panicked.
"Toby?" CJ asked hesitantly.
"CJ?"
From the doorway, a half-undressed and extremely confused Josh Lyman watched while leaning against the wall. "CJ, everything okay?"
CJ reflexively pulled the blanket up around herself. "He couldn't breathe, Josh."
Josh took a couple of steps into the room and looked down at Toby. "He okay?"
"Fine," Toby rasped. He noted he didn't quite feel like talking and wanted to vomit in the worst way.
"I think he'll be okay. You should go back to bed, Josh. But use the sofa."
"All right. Thanks," Josh said, and stumbled back out. CJ turned her attention back to Toby.
"So, Tobus. Think maybe the Scotch reacted badly with your drugs?" CJ asked. Toby looked sheepish.
"Maybe. And maybe—oh Jesus. I wanna throw up. Oh god…"
CJ moved quickly and brought her bedroom trash can around in time for Toby to lean over the bed and vomit dryly. He retched a few times, brought some mucus but nothing much up, and rolled onto his back again. CJ put the trash can next to Toby's side of the bed and crawled over him back into bed. A fine sheen of sweat covered Toby and his skin smelled vaguely metallic. He looked absolutely exhausted. CJ tried to forget she'd just seen him black out. She was frightened.
CJ pulled just the sheet up over them both and moved next to Toby, one arm over the sheet covering his chest. Toby opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her.
"I'm so sorry," he said quietly, trying to connote sincerity with his eyes. Toby felt awful, physically and emotionally, and hated causing CJ any pain.
CJ smiled at him, gently rubbing his chest. "I know."
"I shouldn't have drunk anything."
"Yes."
"Still love me?" Toby let a small smile color his nearly-white face.
"No," CJ answered, and then laughed loudly. Toby blanched even more, then chuckled a little. He wiped his mouth with the sheet, smiled, and shifted down a little to kiss CJ's smiling mouth.
CJ accepted the kiss and brought one long leg over Toby. They moved so they were lying facing each other, eyes locked. Toby let his hand rest on CJ's hip and loved the feeling of her hands moving on his back, sweaty as it was.
"Thank you for saving my life just now," he said with sincerity.
"You're welcome. Maybe I should call the hospital…"
"I'm fine. And—thank you for saving my life all those other times."
"What do you mean, Toby?"
"Well—just, you know, taking care of me. I've been kind of a wreck. Thanks."
CJ saw how he shyly shifted his eyes down while he said this. "I was happy to do it. I just—I wish that—"
"What?"
CJ sighed. "Don't do that to yourself, Toby. You're so hard on yourself all the time, every day. I wish you'd stop hiding everything, until you freak out on us."
"I didn't freak out. I was sick." Toby felt himself protesting aimlessly.
"And why do you think you were sick? You never get sick, Tobus."
Toby closed his eyes briefly. "Look, do we have to do this now?"
"When would you like to do it? What warning signal should I be looking for that tells me well, Toby's ready to come clean?" CJ asked with a touch of anger in her voice. Toby rolled away from her and lay on his back.
"I was just hoping maybe we could do this later. Some time that's not right now, because right now I just—oh man, I just want…" His voice trailed off.
"What? My god, I can't believe you're at a loss for words, Toby."
"Right now I wanna have sex with you in the absolute worst way, CJ, and all this talk about me being sick is getting in the way of that." Toby had always thought honesty was the best policy in love, if not necessarily in politics. He turned his head to see an amused CJ in the dim light. "What?"
"I thought that might be it. Jesus, Toby, you sure can pick the right romantic moment, you know?" She laughed and Toby felt a little hurt.
"I'm sorry I said anything about it. Forget it."
"Oh Toby, that's not what I meant! It's just—I mean come on… we haven't even talked about anything like that for what, a year?"
"It wasn't my decision not to have the discussion," he said a trifle petulantly.
"I don't think it was anyone's decision. We've been a little busy with stuff, you know? You want to talk about sex in your office in the middle of damage control?" She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him.
When Toby looked over to answer the first thing he noticed was that the sheet had fallen away from CJ, exposing a smooth expanse of breast and skin and it took his breath away. He turned onto his side and faced her. "No. But I did want to jump you in your office more than once," he said with a tiny smile. She returned the look.
"Oh, boy."
"What?"
"I thought it was just me wishing Sam would go home early so I could screw you on that sofa in your office."
"Sam never goes home early."
"I know," CJ said, and lowered herself to kiss Toby, wrapping her arms around him. She knew, in the back of her overheated brain, that he wasn't up to the task, could still feel his body's weakness, but thought a little cuddling—maybe more, she thought—couldn't hurt.
The kiss deepened and Toby rolled over onto his back again, pulling CJ with him so she was on top. He also felt he wasn't ready for full-scale lust, but wanted to feel CJ's body near him.
Toby ran his hands down her back and sides, eliciting a pleased chuckle from CJ as she rotated her hips against his. "Do you think—" he began between kisses.
"Think what?"
"Think maybe one day Sam'll go home early?"
CJ laughed and kissed her way down Toby's neck, half-noting to herself his beard was longer than usual. "Fat chance," she answered, moving slowly to lick Toby's collarbone while he arched up beneath her.
"Oh god—I better lock him out of the bullpen one night then," Toby said, and they kissed, cuddled, and worked each other into a relatively excited mess before falling asleep in each other's arms, smelling of soap, sweat, and sex.
Josh Lyman was dreaming the dreams of a person who'd mixed alcohols the night before, tossing about on CJ's overstuffed sofa. He wasn't certain later it had all been dreaming, however…
"Shh—Toby, shh, Josh is out there!"
What? Josh asked aloud in his dream. He seemed to be in a corner of a room, beer in hand, conspicuous by his lack of clothing. Josh felt someone else was in his dream-room with him, but he wasn't sure who—
"He's asleep, right?"
"Yeah, but—oh yeah, right there!"
Dream-Josh took a sip of his beer, grimaced, and looked at the bottle. A stylized old bike was on the label, leaned on by a grinning Sam Seaborn in a monk's habit. Holy hell, Josh thought in his dream, Sam's a priest?
A loud sound from the other room finally dispelled the dream enough for Josh to grunt, flick his eyes open, and then turn and settle back into sleep. Later, he was happy it had happened, since he was very disturbed by the idea of Sam Seaborn as a Franciscan priest. He didn't give much thought before he went back to sleep as to what the sound might have been—it was enough that he knew he was at CJ's apartment.
In the morning, CJ carefully untangled herself from Toby, who in his sleep had wrapped his arms around her tightly. CJ smiled at his calm face, so unlike the stressed look she was used to. Retrieving her robe from the floor, she went into the bathroom to shower.
On the sofa, Josh was finally stirring as CJ's kitchen radio turned on, followed quickly by her coffee maker. Josh was sitting up in his boxers, bleary and blinking, when CJ came in from her shower.
"Hey Joshua," she said cheerily as she went into the kitchen. Josh followed her with his eyes, trying to bring his soul back into his body. He knew better than to stand, so swallowed several times and cleared his throat.
"CJ?" he croaked. CJ appeared in the doorway.
"Yeah?"
"What happened?"
CJ smiled, went into the kitchen and retrieved two cups of coffee, and came back to sit next to Josh on the sofa. He looks like boiled hell, CJ thought as she handed him the coffee.
"Thanks," Josh groaned, and took a big swallow of the coffee. "Oh, yeah. Oh god, yeah." He ran his hand over his face and grimaced. "Arg. Please tell me it's the weekend."
"Sorry. It's Friday. 6am, actually. I forgot to reset my alarm."
"Oh. Oh CJ. I have to go to work today?" Josh asked in pain. CJ laughed.
"Yep. Me too. And if you're gonna be in before 8 you better haul ass, son," she said, amused at his shocked look.
"Oh, Leo's gonna kill me… and Donna. Can't—can't you say I was hit by a car or something, buy me some time?" Josh was swallowing coffee in huge gulps, trying to shake his hangover.
"I think we've got enough medical issues at the moment, Josh. Look—I'll call a cab. You need to get home and get clean. You look like hell."
Josh looked up from the floor where he was contemplating his feet. "Hey—how's Toby? It's coming back to me now, you know."
CJ shrugged. "He's sleeping. He is not going to work today. You and I, on the other hand…" CJ considered, then, "Josh, I need to talk to you about Toby. Sometime later? He's not very forthcoming about what's wrong. I was hoping you'd have some clues after last night. If you can remember them."
Josh moaned. "Well, I'll see. Right now I can barely think. If you'd call a cab I'd love you forever…"
"You already do," CJ laughed, and picked up the phone. As she dialed, Josh made his way into the bathroom, holding his pants in one hand as he shuffled.
Toby lay sprawled across most of the bed, turning more as he drew closer to waking. Josh glanced at him briefly as he went into the bathroom, and thought more about it as he washed his face. By the time he exited the bathroom, pants on and shirt tucked in, he was thinking hard about a Toby in CJ's bed.
CJ was making toast in the kitchen when Josh came back in. "I feel a little better," he said, refilling his coffee cup and leaning against the refrigerator. "Cab coming?"
"Yes," CJ answered. "Toast?"
"Nah. Hey, CJ—"
"Josh?"
"Did—are you—oh, nevermind." Josh shook his head and put it out of mind for the moment. CJ smiled and sat at the table, munching dry toast.
"Nevermind what?"
Josh sat at the table as well. "See, that's the thing—you don't have to mind it anymore. Forget about it."
"Josh, are you wondering if Toby and I are sleeping together?"
Josh choked a little on his coffee. "No! I mean, even if you were, I mean, I don't care," he sputtered.
"Because Sam is wondering it too, I think. I wonder if Leo is too? Or the President?"
"CJ, it doesn't matter. You know that," Josh said seriously. He hated being read so easily, even by CJ, who knew him well. "I don't care."
"Would it bother you if we were?"
"No!" Josh answered, too quickly.
"Well, Joshua, we did sleep together last night. And the night before. We're not having sex, but he is sleeping in my bed."
"CJ, I—"
"I mean, I don't think he's really ready for sex yet, he's not well," she continued, and finally laughed as she saw Josh pale.
"It's really okay, CJ. I don't need to know."
"Josh, you're right to wonder, I guess. But—well, Toby and I haven't really talked about it much lately. We've been too busy. And you can imagine, there's a lot of stuff we'd have to work out."
Josh was silent a moment, thoughtful. "You two—you're in love with each other," he said quietly. CJ sighed.
"I suppose that's a way to put it. Sam seems to think so too. Maybe it's just Toby and I who need convincing."
Josh watched CJ go silent, and decided he'd let it go for now. He wasn't really concerned about CJ and Toby sleeping together. Josh thought they'd make a good couple. What he was concerned with was their powerful personalities getting in the way of a relationship, not to mention their obligations to more-than-full-time jobs. He wanted so much for both of them to be happy.
A car horn gave him his out. "That's for me. CJ, I'm sorry about last night. I'll check in with you later today?"
CJ walked with him to the front door. "I'll talk to you later. If anyone asks, Toby's not coming in. He's fine. If Leo asks, Toby's fine and I'll talk to him later. If Sam asks, tell him to call here and talk to Toby—Sam'll worry until he hears from Toby personally. I'll see you at work in a bit."
"'kay. See you."
CJ went back into the bedroom and noted Toby was awake but still lying down. "Hey, cutie," she said as she sat next to him on the bed.
"Don't call me that," he said, bringing a smile to CJ's face.
"Ah, you must feel okay."
"Sorry. Morning," Toby said, taking her hand in his.
"Morning. I've gotta get ready to go, my little scribe."
"I can get up," Toby began. CJ shook her head and went to her closet.
"No, my boy, you're staying here today. Your hangover will be hitting soon, I'm sure. And if you don't stay here, Toby," CJ threatened as she turned with a suit on a hanger, "I'll send Ginger and Bonnie to take care of you."
"I give," Toby said, raising his hands in surrender.
"Good. There's food in the fridge and coffee made. When you're ready, go feed yourself, and then for god's sake take your medicine and go back to bed. I'll be back around 430 today."
"Okay. Are you—will you run interference for me today?"
"Yes. And since I assume you'll be calling people all day at work, you can let them know you're doing well and not mention your stupid binge last night."
Toby winced. "Ouch. Sorry."
CJ came out of the bathroom with her suit on, and Toby whistled. "Glad you approve."
"Oh yeah. Sure you don't wanna stay home today?" Toby said with a sly smile.
"Whatever. Look," CJ sat next to Toby again, "Toby, we need to talk when I get back. Okay? Because if we don't and you don't straighten up, I'm calling Stanley and we'll go that route."
"All right."
"Promise?"
Toby kissed her hand. "I promise. Now go to work and lie to the press."
"Screw you. Be good, Toby."
"I am so glad it's Friday, Donna, I wish I could tell you how happy I am."
Donnatella Moss ignored her boss as she was wont to do when Josh chattered. "Mm-hmm."
"No, really. In just a few little hours I'm so free, the anticipation is killing me… a weekend of pure relaxation and bliss, just me and my bed…"
"Josh, you're in meetings until 9 tonight, so if you want to come out of the clouds, focus, maybe shave those parts of your face you missed, we can start the day."
"See, Donna, that's wrong. You're supposed to say 'Josh, I feel your enthusiasm and I will do everything I can as your assistant to facilitate your departure today.'"
"Josh, I'm going to go facilitate your schedule. And if you're going, will you get me some coffee too please?" Donna said with a bright smile. Josh dropped his head on the desk and groaned.
He was still sitting there when a tap on the door made him raise his head. Sam Seaborn stood in the doorway with a copy of Aurelius' Meditations in one hand. Sam came in and sat across from Josh.
"Good morning handsome."
"Grunt," Josh grunted. "Donna says I missed some spots shaving."
Sam looked closely at his friend. "Yeah, a little. Still, you don't look bad for someone who apparently has a hangover."
"So you can tell, huh? Arg," Josh said, leaning back in his chair. Sam smiled.
"I recognize that faraway and visionary look. You got drunk as hell last night, didn't you?"
"Uh-huh." Josh rubbed his face. "So, catching up on your Greek poetry or something?" he asked, gesturing at Sam.
Sam looked down at his book and back at Josh with a frown. "Heathen. Marcus Aurelius was a Roman emperor. You saw 'Gladiator', didn't you?"
Josh stood and stretched. "Nah. I get distracted by the haircuts. And there weren't enough lions and Christians. Why you reading it?"
"Well, he's got some nice quotes on all kinds of things. I go back to him from time to time. But hey, I wanted to ask you something."
"Go," Josh said, perching on his desk with arms crossed.
"It's, uh, a bit awkward, and I feel really kinda odd bringing it up, but—"
"CJ told me," Josh finished, feeling Sam's discomfort.
Sam gaped at Josh, and began to blush madly. Josh smiled. "I—when?" he finally managed.
"This morning. I spent the night on the sofa in her place. And Toby, apparently, spent the night in her bed."
Sam made waving motions with one hand. "No, I don't wanna know. Really."
Josh frowned. "Why? They not cute enough? We can't all be as pretty as you, Sam."
"Josh! That's not it. But—I mean, I let slip something, about them maybe being together, and well… I just don't feel good about it. It's not my—our business."
Josh stood and walked back and forth. "But, it is our business, Sam. And not just as friends. You know that."
Sam slumped back in his seat. "Aw, I know. I just—it's not fair to them."
Josh leaned against a bookcase. "I know it."
CJ was in Leo McGarry's office after the second press briefing, following the chief of staff quietly out of the briefing room. He asked Margaret to hold calls for a while and led CJ into his office.
"Good briefing on the raid." McGarry leaned on his desk and crossed his arms, not giving CJ an opportunity to read him.
"Thanks," she said, sitting in a chair.
"So, how's Toby?"
CJ was taken a little aback that the question had come so soon. "Uh, well, I think he's gonna, you know, gonna be okay. Yeah."
"Do you think I should get in touch with Stanley?"
"I don't know. I don't—no, I don't think so, not yet. He wants to talk it out now a little, and I think I should give him the chance."
"Has he talked much about it yet, whatever it was?" Leo wasn't sure entirely what was gnawing at Toby, but knew the man well enough to understand only a serious issue could keep the communications director out of his office.
CJ sighed. "No. He's talking around it, but it's definitely part of his mother's death. You know Toby."
Leo sat down on the chair across from CJ. "Not as well as you do."
"Ah."
"CJ, I think you know what I mean."
"Uh, I think I might. And, can I just say that it won't be an issue—"
Leo snorted. "You think I care about that now? CJ, I want Toby in here doing his job, but more than that I want to know you're all going to be okay, and—"
Leo was cut off as the door to the Oval Office opened. They both stood as the President came in.
"Hey Leo, CJ," Bartlet said, strolling rather nonchalantly into the office.
"Mr. President," CJ and Leo chimed together. Bartlet looked with entirely too intelligent eyes at his chief of staff and press secretary and took a seat behind Leo's desk.
"So, tell me about my communications director. When can I expect him back at work?"
CJ spun several answers in her head, trying to come up with a reasonable one, when Leo spoke up.
"CJ said he's not ready. I think he needs more time."
"Do you… CJ?"
"Sir, I think Toby needs a little more time, and maybe a little more medical care." She saw Bartlet frown slightly.
"How long did you both think we could carry on without him? I don't mean to suggest he's not replaceable or anything, but he's not, so—how do we get him back?" Bartlet asked.
"I think he should see a doctor again, and figure out how to recover fully medically, and then, sir, I think he's gonna need to talk some things out," CJ answered. "Sam can cope in the meantime."
"No, Sam cannot cope, or we wouldn't have both a director and a deputy director of communications. CJ, I'm not trying to suggest you drag him back here, or even that you let him drag himself in. I'm concerned about him too. But you both know if Toby isn't working he's miserable."
"Well sir," Leo McGarry smiled, "he's pretty miserable most of the time he is working."
"CJ, do you think you could give me a personal briefing on Toby's condition once a day? Let him know I'd really like him to get his ass back here, and tell him to use his damn medical benefits. Make it happen for me, all right?" Bartlet got up to walk back to his office.
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."
Bartlet stopped near the door. "And hey—don't let him know I'm worried about him, okay? He hates that."
CJ was stretched out on the sofa in Toby's office when Josh came in around 4pm. He stopped short when he noticed CJ.
"Oh. Hey, CJ."
CJ opened her eyes slightly and then closed them. "Joshua."
Josh came in and picked up CJ's feet before sitting on the sofa and dropping them onto his lap. "Gonna share this. Jesus, what a day!"
"Busy?"
"Not even done yet. Meetings till like nine, no doughnuts, no pie…"
"I'm sure there are some apples and peanut butter downstairs."
Josh snorted. "Ah. What I want is a beer and a brat."
CJ opened her eyes and smiled at Josh, whose head was leaned back against the sofa. "What do you know from brats?"
Josh looked over. "What, you think 'cause I'm from the east coast I never chowed down on a good Michigan bratwurst?"
CJ smiled. "Wisconsin brats are good. Michigan makes good cars, not good sausage."
"Whatever. Hey—I had a talk with Sam earlier."
"Uh huh."
"He's really embarrassed about the thing he said to you, about you and Toby."
"Oh."
"I told him to chill out."
"Good."
"I mean, 'cause it's not our place to direct office love affairs or anything—"
"Joshua!"
Josh spoke quickly. "Well, if you and Toby wanna have something going on, it's not like I'd be averse to it or anything, I mean, you'd even make a cute couple, if maybe a little mismatched and—"
"Josh, shut up. But I appreciate it. I know Sam felt bad about it. But you know, it is your business. I think that's why I haven't thought much about it happening. And besides that, I wasn't always sure about Toby."
Josh looked over, curious. "What do you mean? I've seen him, I mean, I've seen him look at you with such—something."
"Well-phrased, Josh. You wanna do the next briefing? Look, we're both such insanely busy people, and high-profile, and frankly doing this job doesn't allow you to have a life. Barely allows time to eat. And Toby—he's—I don't know, he's—"
"A complex guy," Josh finished. CJ smiled and nodded. She was about to continue when Sam appeared at the door.
"Hey all. I was hoping the sofa was free." CJ and Josh looked up and smiled.
"Come on in and join the party," CJ said, lifting both her legs up. Sam laughed and slid onto the sofa next to Josh. CJ shifted herself up a little to be comfortable and stretched her legs out more. "This is probably the closest thing we've had to a party in a while, guys."
"I know. I was kinda hoping maybe you'd dance for us," Sam said.
"I was hoping you'd dance for us, Sam. Come on, a little hokey pokey would make my day, huh Josh?" CJ laughed.
"Only if he did it in a chicken suit."
"Hey, I came in to lay down, not be made fun of!" Sam protested.
"Oh come on, Toby's not here to tease, and you're his deputy," CJ said, then stopped.
"It's okay, CJ," Sam said into the silence. "Hey, could I stop by later and see Toby?"
"Don't you have stuff till ten?" CJ asked, wondering if it was a good idea.
"Nothing I can't put off. I can be gone by eight."
"I don't see why not, if Toby doesn't mind. If he's not feeling well I'll call you, okay?"
Sam nodded. "Well, if I'm gonna leave here early I better get back to work. You two be good."
Sam got up and left, Josh and CJ watching him. "I should get back to work too."
"No rest for the weary," CJ said as Josh got up. "I'll see you later."
"Later."
With both of the guys gone CJ sat up. She looked around the office with a sigh. Bits of Toby here and there—she noted his rubber ball on his desk, the scattering of pencils stuck into his bulletin board, his Yankees cap perched on a bust of Lincoln, a greeting card tacked to the edge of a bookcase behind his desk. CJ stood and looked at it, wondering. Toby wasn't at all sentimental, and for him to keep a card sent him… she walked over to it.
It was a vaguely familiar image, a cheesy black-and-white picture on the front of a little girl blowing out candles on a birthday cake. CJ felt a little cold as she reached out to read the card.
Sorry, but it was the first birthday card
I saw! I know you hate these but so
what—just because it's your birthday
doesn't mean you get everything you
want! Happy birthday, Batman. Love you-
CJCJ felt a tear slide down her face and she sat in Toby's desk chair. She leaned her head into one hand, elbow propped on the desk, and looked at the card.
"Bastard," she said quietly, then laughed. "Little, silly jerk. Oh, Toby. Why do you make it so hard?"
At five in the afternoon Toby was staring dazedly at the TV, remote control in hand. He was clicking absently between channels, eventually becoming engrossed in a sport he thought was cricket. It involved odd-looking bats, silly uniforms, and entirely foreign rules.
Toby was still trying to figure out the scoring when CJ came in and called from the kitchen.
"Hey Toby!"
"Hey… do you have any idea what the hell this is?" Toby answered. CJ walked in, taking off her coat. She squinted at the TV.
"It's cricket."
"I thought it might be… I can't figure out how they know who won. There seems to be a lot of running around spastically and funky pitching."
"Well, it's a civilized English game, you know," she said, going into her room.
"And that's the problem!" Toby called after her. He watched the game for a while longer, finally clicking to CNN when CJ reentered in pajama pants and tank top.
"Hey there," she said, sitting next to him on the sofa. "How you feeling?"
"Not bad. Sometimes a little like I'm gonna puke, but only if I get up too fast."
CJ looked closely at Toby, who accepted the stare. "You look better."
Toby smiled. "I hope so. I felt like death earlier."
"You looked it. Hey, everyone sends their best. The President, in particular, wants you back at work."
Toby paled a little. "Oh. He didn't actually ask about me, did he?"
CJ considered lying, then plunged ahead. "He not only asked about you, but he specifically asked me to make sure your ass got back to work as soon as possible. Sorry, but that's basically what was said to me and Leo."
Toby closed his eyes briefly. "Ohh, not good."
"I told him I'd do what I could. Of course, all of it depends on you."
"I know! I know…."
CJ folded her legs underneath her and faced Toby. "My friend, my buddy—what do you want me to do?"
Toby sighed. "You know—CJ. Do you—do you have any idea how difficult this is? I don't know, maybe you do… To ask for help—I don't know what to do right now. Sure, I need help. I know that, but what I don't know is what kind, where, how." He ran a hand over his face and turned startling eyes to CJ. "Help me, CJ."
CJ had to look away briefly. When she looked back at him, Toby saw a resolve in her eyes.
"All right. I will. And for now, what I want is you to try for god's sake to stop beating yourself up. We can start the rest tomorrow. But Toby—" CJ placed her hands on either side of Toby's face gently—"please, please, please give yourself a break."
Toby placed his hands on hers, drawing them down. "All right."
They looked at each other for a long while. CJ felt her heart thudding madly, and finally moved across the space and drew Toby to her. They hugged a long while, both unwilling to let go and have to see the other's tears.
When they finally separated, Toby smiled and kissed CJ lightly. "Thanks," he said, a little shakily. CJ laughed.
"Is that how you show your gratitude?" she asked, and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Toby's eyes widened in surprise before he relaxed into the kiss, his arms around CJ's waist. She leaned into him until he fell back against the arm of the sofa and they both chuckled. CJ lifted her head away first. She smiled down at Toby, who had a goofy and pleased look on his face.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
"You—my beard." Toby touched CJ's reddened chin briefly. CJ laughed.
"I know… the first time I ever kissed you, you were a beardless youth."
"Wow. Really."
"Yep. And kinda a jerk even then."
"Oh god. How've we managed not to kill each other over the years?"
CJ considered briefly. She saw Toby watching her, serious and intent, and suddenly was seized by a powerful urge to tickle him, poke him, somehow make him stop taking himself so seriously. So she did.
"Because—" And CJ moved both hands to Toby's sides and tickled.
"Hey—hey!" Toby was up and on the floor in a heartbeat, his oversensitivity to being tickled kicking in. He landed with a thud and looked up, mock offended. "What the hell was that for?" he squawked. CJ slid to the floor and tickled him again. "Stop it! CJ, don't—hey!"
She chased Toby along the floor until he put the recliner between himself and her. He was red-faced and panting with mixed indignation and irrepressible laughter. "Jesus, CJ!"
CJ was laughing uncontrollably. She knelt on the recliner, facing Toby, who was leaning on it with a half-smile on his face. "Toby—you're just so damn cute when you laugh, do you know that?" she asked him with a smile.
Toby was beginning to see CJ's purpose. He smiled down at her and kissed her nose. "I guess."
"Those dimples don't always hide under that beard."
At that Toby laughed. "All right, all right. Look, I've been taking myself seriously since before my bar-mitzvah. It'll take some time. Okay?"
CJ turned and sat in the chair, looking up at Toby. "Fine. Let's order out. And then I'm making a phone call to Rebecca Shindler and you're gonna see her again. That not breathing thing was too goddamn scary. And then we'll go from there."
Toby felt himself begin to automatically protest, and halted himself. Instead, he came around, grabbed the phone, and sat on the floor to call, leaning back against CJ's legs. "Only if we can order pizza."
"Is there anything else?" CJ asked. She was still smiling, but inside she was a little awed at Toby's acquiescence. Maybe he deserves more credit that I give him, she thought.
Toby called and ordered an extra-large black olive and extra cheese pizza. One of the truly deep attachments CJ and Toby had outside work was the love of a good, fat slice of olive-and-cheese pizza. When he hung up CJ patted Toby's head.
"There's a good man," CJ said, tiredness creeping into her voice.
"Don't smack me on the head, CJ. Ow!"
CJ had really smacked him then. "I'll let you know when I'm being abusive."
"Okay! Jeez. Look, you're tired. Come over to the sofa and lay down."
Toby got CJ settled on the couch. She rolled onto her side and groaned.
"I wasn't very tired till I got home…" she said, trailing off. Toby sat on the end of the sofa and CJ picked up her head until Toby slid over and offered his lap. "Thanks."
"No problem."
They remained there quietly, Toby gently stroking CJ's hair as he heard her gradually drift off to sleep. He hoped the pizza took the usual hour to get there. Toby didn't want to disturb CJ until he absolutely had to.
When the buzzer rang Toby got gently up, not waking CJ, and moved silently to the door, buzzing the pizza up. He opened the door and was rummaging in his wallet, door opened, when he looked up and jumped back.
"Jesus! Don't do that!"
Sam smiled broadly, pizza in hand, delivery man behind him as he stood in the door. "Gotcha," he said, stepping in and going into the kitchen. Toby paid the amused delivery man and, heart still pounding, went into the kitchen to see Sam getting plates.
"Sam, you scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here?"
"Here, take this," Sam said, handing Toby a plate and flipping open the box. He served up slices onto three plates, and began eating his slice hungrily as Toby watched. "Whatsamatter, you not hungry?" Sam said around a mouthful of cheese.
Toby shook his head and laughed a little. "Yeah, yeah I am." He took a small bite of the pizza and instantly his mouth was flooded with intense flavor. He sighed, feeling slightly weak at how good the food tasted. "Oh, man… this is the best! Oh, yeah…"
Sam sat at the table and smiled. "Glad you're hungry. Hey, where's CJ?"
"Oh—I forgot. She's taking a nap, we should be kinda quiet." Toby sat at the table and for a while they both ate in silence. Sam was on his third slice before he spoke again.
"Toby…"
"Yes?"
"I—I can't say I was dealing very well with you being ill… I mean, I know that sounds stupid, but, well, there it is." Sam said this in a halting voice, unsure how Toby would take it or even, he thought, what it meant.
Toby looked at him with wide eyes. "I don't—Sam, I'm sorry. Really."
Sam shook his head. "No, no. Don't be sorry. You know, it's just—well, when Josh was shot, I didn't take it very well, and I felt so helpless—
"I know what you mean," Toby muttered.
"—and I hated, I hated to feel like that. I felt my brother had been shot, and I was so angry and cold, and just helpless! And this happens with you—none of us knew what to do or how to help. God, all I wanted was to find some way to make you better… I know how stupid that sounds. But—you guys, CJ, you, Josh—you're more family than my family. And—I just wanted you to know how happy I am you're okay. All right. Now, you can make fun of me. But gimme a slice of pizza first," Sam finished. He got his slice and looked up at Toby with that boyish, sincere, and genuine half-smile of happiness Toby was used to seeing on Sam.
Toby knew that of all of them Sam was by far the most sensitive and easily hurt. There was something unfailingly positive and open about Sam, something being a professional political operative hadn't beat out of him. Sam Seaborn was the most idealistic person Toby knew, and he knew Sam thought at times it was a handicap. Sam tried very hard to be the Bartlet "pit bull" that Josh was, but Toby knew at heart Sam was much more a happy Labrador.
"Sam, I—I'm not sure what to say. I felt so bad leaving you there at work alone. But I never would have if I didn't trust you implicitly. I mean, without you—Sam, you're my other mind, my second brain. All the writing—we do it. I can't even begin to count the times I've gone into a meeting or a press thing and said 'thank God Sam's here, 'cause he'd never let me fall on my ass'."
Sam blushed bright red, and said nothing. Toby got a second slice of pizza and went on.
"I'm not sure, Sam, if you'll ever lose that idealism that's so important. I know it gives you a lot of grief sometimes, because you still think people are inherently good. And you should never ever lose it, Sam. If I had died yesterday—
"Toby!" Sam protested, but Toby waved him down.
"—if I had died, I can't think of a better, more committed, and more honest person to take my job. You keep us honest, Sam. The President, me, CJ—you are, my friend, our barometer."
"Don't say that, Toby. You're not dead, I'm no barometer, and the President's message is built by you."
"Bullshit, my little friend. You are all that. And I—I sincerely appreciate your concern. I think I'll be fine. I got my friends, anyway," Toby finished, smiling. He couldn't remember a time they'd spoken like this, and Toby hoped they wouldn't have to do it again for a while.
"Toby—what was it? What happened?" Sam finally asked. He looked at Toby with open, wide eyes. Toby sighed.
"Sam—Jesus. I think you know a little about me and my family, you know it's not all sweetness. And, well—I don't know."
"If you don't want to talk about it—
"No—no, I do. I think. Talking to you about it—it's different than speaking to CJ or Josh. Sometimes I think they're too worried that they'll find something that can't be fixed. But with you—Sam, I trust you, and more importantly, I think you trust me not to fall apart."
"Of course."
In the living room, CJ had been coming out of her nap slowly, hearing male voices. She sat up, identified the voices as Sam and Toby, and moved toward the kitchen to interrupt them. She stopped when she heard Toby say "Sometimes I think they're too worried". She stood near the kitchen door and listened intently.
Toby went on. "So. A year or so ago, my brother and sister and I were worried about our mom. We knew we couldn't have her stay with any of us—it's just impossible. David and I are never home, and Rachel—she has a new baby. But mom—" Toby stopped and wiped his eyes hastily, "—mom was going downhill faster than we thought. She had Alzheimer's, you see. I'd go—oh God, Sam. I'd go see her at our old home, and she'd call me David for an hour, and suddenly switch to Toby and act like I had just walked in. Sometimes she'd go to her old job… she hadn't worked in eleven years, Sam."
"Toby, I'm so sorry," Sam said quietly. Outside, CJ put a hand to her mouth to stop a gasp.
"Well. Well, you know, what could we do? David and I decided, you know, that maybe she should go to a home. Rachel kept saying, 'no, she should come with me', but I knew it wouldn't work. When David started to cave, I told them 'Look, mom is not going to get better, and do you honestly think she'd want us to see her like this?' Oh, God."
Toby stopped for a minute, overwhelmed. He still hated to remember how harshly he'd spoken to Rachel, how insistent he'd been on a nursing home for their mother.
"I had no idea, Sam. If I'd known she was going to die alone, not really herself—God! But I said 'we have to put her in a home, it's the best thing!' I just kept insisting, and they gave in." His voice had developed a crack and Sam felt himself breathing evenly to keep from tearing up.
"And so, she went. I don't think she quite knew what was going on, but you know, Alzheimer's—it comes in and out. I was visiting her once, and she looked me dead on and asked me when I'd lost my soul. I said, 'What, ma?', and she asked me when I had grown cruel enough to want to put her in a home to die."
"Oh Jesus," Sam whispered.
"Yeah," Toby said. "It would go on like that, not knowing, knowing… it was really hard. Sometimes she'd ask for dad, sometimes for Rachel, and sometimes she'd ask for her own father. What was worse, Sam, what was the worst of all was when she was totally lucid. When she knew her children had sent her away. The look in her eye—the loss! I can't forget. I see it at night. She didn't forgive what we did."
"Toby, I'm sure that wasn't it." Sam leaned across the table. "There was nothing you could do that you didn't do."
Toby looked at Sam with shining eyes. "You know what? I don't know! Sam, I don't know if that's true. And it's—it's killing me."
CJ heard the last and understanding of a kind hit her. She brushed tears from her face and settled her hair before going into the kitchen, yawning exaggeratedly. "Oh, hey guys!"
Sam shook himself mentally and smiled at CJ. "Hey! Pizza delivery," he said, handing CJ a slice.
"Mmm. Oh, fabulous. When did you get here, Princeton?"
"I brought the pizza up about twenty minutes ago. Toby said you were napping."
CJ took a seat at the table. "I was. Needed it. Hey, Toby—you're eating something!"
Toby had settled his face quickly, and turned red but focused eyes to CJ. "You know how much I love olives," he said. "Sam and I have been talking."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I think—well, it was good for me, Sam, how about you?" Toby smiled.
Sam laughed. "It was great. Really. Oh, and CJ, I wanna apologize again for what I said earlier, I didn't mean to—
"Sam, it's fine. You see Toby here, he bears no marks of passion, no love bites."
"Yet," Toby finished. Sam stared, then laughed loudly.
"Toby! I—oh, man… will you name the first boy after me?" he asked between whoops.
CJ and Toby were both laughing. CJ shifted from her seat into Toby's lap, and Toby looked up with mildly surprised eyes. She finished her slice and put her arms around Toby's neck, pulling him in for a soft, spicy kiss.
Sam smiled, not as uncomfortable as he might have been before. He was ready to file CJ and Toby as an item, and wondered if they were too.
"Hey, you," Toby said softly when they broke the kiss. CJ smiled at him and looked at Sam.
"You want some of this too, big boy?" she said huskily, and both of them laughed.
"No, I'm fine, thanks. Man—how long were you two gonna try to keep up appearances? The pool on you two was getting ready to fold!"
"Hey, I had two hundred on us getting together before the end of the year!" Toby said, smiling. He was smiling so hard he thought his face would crack in two.
"Jerks," CJ said.
"No, really, I could use the two hundred… ow!" Toby rubbed his chest where CJ had punched him.
"That's what you get."
Sam stood and stretched. "Well, if you two are gonna get it on, I should get going."
"No, stay, Sam!" CJ protested.
"Yeah, CJ wants a three-way—OW!"
Toby rubbed the back of his head where CJ had smacked him hard before getting off his lap. "Keep it up, Tobus. Sam, you sure you wanna go?"
"Yeah. I wanted to see how Toby was. I can go now. Thanks for the pizza," he said, walking to the door. Toby watched him from the table."
"Thanks for coming by, Sam. I appreciate it," he said. Sam waved as he and CJ stood by the door.
"Be good, Toby. I'll see you."
"Sam, thanks for coming over. I'll walk you down."
At the entrance to her building, CJ stood with Sam for a moment. "You heard it, right?" she asked.
Sam nodded. "His mother. He's carrying a hell of a lot of guilt about her around."
"I can't believe—
"What?" Sam asked.
CJ shook her head. "I don't want this to sound bad, Sam, but I can't believe he couldn't tell me. Or even Josh."
Sam shrugged. "He said he didn't expect me to be overly concerned about him snapping, that I trust him. And I do. Maybe I'm not as close to him and the whole thing… I mean, you're with him, in love—
"Sam…"
"No, listen. You two are in love, and maybe he didn't want to work it through with you. Maybe he thought that wasn't a good way to start a relationship. And Josh—
"Yes, Josh."
Sam turned pained eyes to CJ. "CJ, Toby found Josh. At Rosslyn. He was the first one to see him, lying there shot. He was so close to Josh's pain, and so scared. I don't think he wanted to go there with Josh, and maybe take Josh somewhere he didn't need to be."
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Or maybe he thinks I'm too stupid to be hurt by it—no, CJ, I'm kidding. We're just—we're all different. This time, it was me. Next time—who knows?"
"God forbid there be a next time!"
"I hear ya."
CJ leaned over and gave Sam a peck on the cheek. He smiled sheepishly and returned the kiss. "You are a good, good man, Sam Seaborn. Go home and sleep."
"I will. Take care of yourself—and Toby."
CJ watched Sam stroll down the street in the direction of the train, smiled, and went upstairs.
Toby was sitting on the sofa with the pizza box on the coffee table in front of him, watching CNN. He looked up as CJ came in.
"Sam off?"
CJ sat next to him. "Yep."
"Sam is a good man," he said.
"Yep."
There was silence for several moments before Toby spoke again:
"CJ, I'm sorry I couldn't say that to you."
CJ turned to him. "Say what?"
"About my mother. I know you had to be listening. Your timing was too good."
"Toby…"
"It's okay. Sam was just the right person to talk to about it, today, now. It doesn't really make sense."
"It's the way things happen, Toby. Don't worry about it. It doesn't have to make sense, at least not tonight. But—
"Yes. I think I can talk to someone about it. I have a heads up, even. I know what's in my head. Now I need someone to help me sort it out."
CJ leaned into him and kissed him. He swallowed his mouthful of pizza and smiled. "What did I do right to deserve you?"
CJ laughed. "You came into my life like a manic, polysyllabic whirlwind and threatened violence to my collegues unless you found me. It was quite the entrance, my man!"
Toby smiled. "I was such an asshole. But yeah—it was a good entrance!"
"I think, Toby, that we'll be fine. Together. And tomorrow, we'll start over, and Josh and Sam and Leo and, yes, the President will be there for you. You aren't on your own anymore, even if you want to be."
Toby leaned deeper into the sofa and put an arm around CJ to pull her closer. He felt safer, warmer, and more content than he had in weeks.
"A—men," he said, as dark night stole in through the cracks in the blinds.
Nighttime I'd lay on my back an' look up at the stars; mornin' I'd set an' watch the sun come up; midday I'd look out from a hill at the rollin' dry country; evenin' I'd foller the sun down… There was the hills, an' there was me, an' we wasn't separate no more. We was one thing. And that one thing was holy.
And I got thinkin', on'y it wasn't thinkin', it was deeper down than thinkin'. I got thinkin' how we was holy when we was one thing, an' mankin' was holy when it was one thing. An' it on'y got unholy when one mis'able little fella got the bit in his teeth an' run off his own way, kickin' and draggin' an' fightin'. Fella like that bust the holiness. But when they're all workin' together, not one fella for another fella, but one fella kind of harnessed to the whole shebang—that's right, that's holy.
END
