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Pairing:
CJ/Toby
Spoilers: Manchester
Part I (But only in a vague sort of way.)
Rating: R (I would say
it’s the lowest possible R available.)
Summary: She’s
tired.
Author’s note: This was
for Angie and A-K. The got me to post for the first time. And sucked me into the
drug that is fanfiction. ; )
This story takes place
after Manchester Part I. It’s not a happy story. And although I adore Toby and
CJ, I’m not entirely sure I even like them in this
thing.
Disclaimers: If I had
any rights to The West Wing whatsoever do you really think I’d be posting
fanfic?
Feedback: Always
appreciated.
She is sitting at a
corner table in a dark, run-down bar. The sign outside had said “Buddy’s”. She’s
gone two towns over to find some anonymity. She feels she just might have
succeeded.
She’s tired. Of
everything. Not least of all the pretence that everything is just fine, thank
you very much.
She is not alone at the
table. There is a man on her left who claims his name is Jeff. Big and clumsy
looking, he has his arm around the back of her chair. On her right is a thin man
who is probably in his late forties, with hungry eyes. He said his name was Mac.
She believed him. He’s not as subtle as “Jeff”. His hand is resting heavily on
her thigh. She hasn’t given them her name.
She’s drunk. And she’s
not alone in that either. The rounds have been delivered more times than she can
remember. She felt slightly rebellious when she ordered that first scotch. His
drink. But now it’s only the alcohol that concerns
her.
She’s trying to come to
a decision. Not the weighty one that has been haunting her for the last two
months. No. A much more pressing need. She’s deciding which of these men she’ll
take back to the hotel she saw three blocks down. She thinks maybe she won’t
decide. She’ll just take them both back with her.
And that’s when the
door opens.
He takes in the dim
lighting and the smoke hanging like a fog. He does a quick scan of the room and
takes a seat at the bar. He orders a scotch. Takes out a cigar and lights it. He
keeps his back to her.
He’s been here before.
Many times over. Not in this particular bar, but in the same place. Near her,
waiting for her to stop running. Her hiding places have varied greatly through
the years. He muses that sunny California suited her
best.
She had known the
moment the door opened that it was him. Despite the fact that her corner table
didn’t afford a direct view of the door. There was a charge to the air. She had
sighed. She thought it would take him a bit longer. This time.
She waits a few
minutes. Gives herself a moment to adjust to this change in plans. She downs the
last of her drink and stands. She leaves Mac and “Jeff”
disappointed.
She’s standing behind
him at the bar now. He can feel her breath on the top of his head. He’ll let her
speak first.
She waits for an
acknowledgement of her presence. He gives no sign that he’s aware of her. She
can wait.
Except that she can’t.
She gives in and speaks first.
“So. You found
me.”
“Yes.”
“What are… ?
Okay.”
He puts more money on
the bar than is strictly necessary. He takes her by the wrist and leads her
outside. She looks around for his car.
“I took a cab,” he
answers the unasked question.
He holds out his hand
for the keys to her rental. She makes a show of looking through her purse for
the keys. But really, she’s just buying time. She doesn’t think she’s ready to
be confined with him just yet. She takes a deep breath and hands him the
keys.
There is silence in the
car. Before, when they were younger, there would have been a discussion. Maybe
even tears. But they’ve said all there is to say on the subject. So she stares
out the window at the trees and imagines herself being lost in a
forest.
He parks the car at
their hotel and checks his watch. It’s not yet late. The others are probably
still up. Arguing. He plans the route that will get them to her room without
being seen. He doesn’t think she’s ready for that.
He opens her car door
and again takes her by the wrist. He leads her up the stairs and actually gives
a little sigh of relief when her door closes.
He searches her face
for contrition. He sees none. He finds only the resignation he fears is coming
any day now.
She strips off her
clothes quickly and lies naked on top of the bedspread. She stares at the
ceiling. Waiting.
He undresses slowly.
Gives her time. When he sits on the bed next to her he thinks to himself that
she looks tired.
Their joining is not
sweet and romantic. Nor is it even remotely passionate. Their rhythm is born
more from habit than desire. Neither of them makes a sound upon their
release.
After, they lay on
their backs side by side. Not touching. A single tear sneaks it’s way down her
face and into her ear. It tickles, but she doesn’t move. When several minutes
have gone by in silence she speaks.
“You shouldn’t have
come.”
“No?”
“No. I’m telling him
tomorrow. I’m leaving right after. Right after the rally’s
over.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He turns over to face
her. He brushes the hair from her face.
“I don’t think you’re
really going. I don’t think you even want to go.”
She tries to ignore
him. She thinks about where she’ll go. What she’ll do. And she thinks about how
long it will take for him to come after her this
time.
It’s a pattern for
them, she realizes. Like a twisted, sad version of a game from her childhood.
She hides, he seeks. No matter how many times she has run, he has always found
her. He’s the only one who has. A couple of times it took him longer to come for
her. He did take the time to get married. And left her waiting in Los Angeles
for a couple of years. But eventually he got there and brought her back with
him.
She wonders why he does
this. But then she remembers that he’s seen the scars. And she remembers the
whispered promises made almost twenty years ago. It feels like more than a
lifetime has passed since then.
“Toby, I need you to
promise me that you won’t come after me this time.”
“I can’t do that, CJ.
You know that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s… . It’s
what I do. Try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day
tomorrow.”
He rolls over onto his
back and closes his eyes. She turns on her side so she can watch him sleep. She
thinks of places she can go where he won’t be able to find
her.
She’s tired. Tired of
him saving her from herself.
The
End