Current mood:

hopeful

TWW--Things Hoped For ...
Title: The West Wing– Things Hoped For.
Author: kosmickway
Spoilers: Post-ep for “Evidence of Things Not Seen.”
Rating: MATURE for violence, then smut.
Pairing: CJ/Toby.
Disclaimer: Owned by Aaron Sorkin, Overlord of All. Took some liberties paraphrasing some of the ep lines. Others are verbatim. Forgive me, for I downloaded a virus from my transcript site and was too pissed to go back.
Summary: My own ideas of a missing scene from the ep explaining exactly why CJ looked so significantly at Toby when she said she had faith in “us.”




“How about neither of you can hit the fifth row. That’s my bet.” CJ rolled her eyes at Will and Toby as they divided a deck of cards between them. “But back to what I was saying. The vernal equinox–“

“CJ, it isn’t possible. If it were possible at one moment in time it would be equally possible in all moments in time. That’s a basic principle of temporal mechanics.” Toby held up a card and flicked his wrist slightly, prepping for the showdown.

“I’m not conceding this, I’m just giving in till you two boneheads are done flicking cards all over the Press Room.” CJ leaned back against the window sill and crossed her arms. “All right, let’s see it.”

There was an explosive pop, another, another, but it wasn’t until the bullet actually hit the window a millimeter from her face that CJ really processed the fact that someone was shooting. Before she could duck, Toby grabbed her and pulled her down to the floor, his hand tangled in her hair, the weight of his body coming down on her while he acted as shield. More weight, another set of hands, and she knew Will had thrown himself to the floor as well.

“Someone’s shooting!” she gasped, and it was just like Rosslyn, the knowledge that someone had guns, was stalking with intent to kill. She could feel Toby’s chest rising and falling, his breath stirring her hair. Against her own better judgement she tried to raise her head to look, to see what the hell was happening, only to have Toby press her head back down.“Be still.”

There was a crashing wham as the door burst open and CJ flinched back, ducked her head, steeled herself for the feeling of bullets in her flesh. Toby’s hands tightened in her hair, pulling until it was almost painful, but she didn’t care, glad for any feeling of connectivity between them, thankful it wasn’t as it had been at Rosslyn, when they’d been separated and she’d had no idea whether he or anyone else was dead or alive.

“Everyone okay?”

“Miss Creeg?”

“Anyone hit?”

Agents. Thank God for agents. But even hearing their voices didn’t make Will or Toby rise from their places.

Guarding her. They were guarding her. Dear God, her first instinct was to run and hide and these guys, her guys, were holding on to her for dear life, had thrown themselves across her to shield her from hot metal. It was surreal.

The agents were working to secure the room. Will was calling out the direction and angle of the gunshots to the agents, who nodded in understanding.

“We’re going to lock down this room. Let’s go.”

Will hopped up, lithe as a cat, though CJ noticed that his hands were trembling as he reached down to help her up. She scrambled to her feet under her own power, her legs shaking, felt the hand on her back that meant Toby was on his feet and just behind her.

They were hurried to the Oval Office. Even in the middle of a lock-down and interrupted at his phone call with Chagorin, the President still managed to offer each of his staffers a reassuring look.

“Toby, you okay?”

“Fine, sir.”

“CJ, you?”

“Okay, sir.”

“Will?”

“Who’s Will, sir?”

Leo stepped forward. “Lieutenant Bailey, we’re glad to see you but you’re not code-word cleared so I’ll have to ask you to step out.”

Will acquiesced and left, an agent in tow. CJ watched him go and had a surreal moment when she wondered briefly if he’d be okay and if she’d see him again.

“He’s fine,” she reminded herself, “This is the White House, not Rosslyn. It’s the safest place to be in a shooting.”

Unless you happen to be in the Press Room with the door locked, playing a version of 52-card pick-up. Then the bullets come through the windows, or would if those windows weren’t bullet proof.

The thought was so terrifying in its intensity that she found herself shaking. Toby gave her a quick searching look and she nodded firmly, trying as hard as she could to get a hold of herself.

The door burst open, admitting Charlie, then Debbie, and the sounds made her jump. Toby gave her another look and she nodded again.

Hold it together, Claudia Jean.

There were no blue and red lights, no screams, no sirens, so why the hell was she still thinking of Rosslyn? Why was she remembering the bullets through the window of the police car, the feel of shattered glass in her hair, Sam’s body shielding hers, the hard throb of blood in her aching head.

***

“Crash the West Wing.” She heard it repeated simultaneously inside and outside the room and knew a lock-down had been instituted. Then Toby was taking her by the arm and leading her out of the Oval Office with most of the other staffers and agents.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Your office.”

“Why my office?”

“Because I don’t want to go back to the poker game just yet.”

“I’m still not sure why my office.”

“Cause my door doesn’t lock.” Toby steered her into her office, shut the door, locked it. “And if you’re going to have a break down I want you to do it in private.”

“Who said I’m having a breakdown?” CJ asked defensively.

“You’re shaking.”

“Could be cold.”

“You’re wearing a sweater.”

“Could be shock.”

“That’s closer.” He gave CJ a searching look. “C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re not thinking about Rosslyn. Hell, I’m thinking about it and I’m not the one who nearly got a bullet to the face at the Press Room window.”

“You should be a diplomat, you know that, with all that sensitivity and tact you’ve got going for you?” CJ rubbed her arms for warmth. “You know damn well I’m thinking about Rosslyn. It’s making me feel like I want to retch.”

“It makes me want to make sure all of my people are safe. That’s why I wanted you alone for a minute.” He leaned against the desk, fixed her with a searching look. “Come here.”

She moved toward him, close enough to smell his cologne, then his arms were around her and she was clinging to him, hands fisted in his suit jacket, all the trembles that she’d been trying to quell for the last half-hour pouring out of her in a series of hard shudders. He clutched at her, buried his face in her hair.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “You’re safe.”

“God, Toby, I don’t feel safe! We just got shot at again. Second time in five years. I feel like the whole world is upside down! I just started feeling like I could leave the house without ducking my head. I don’t want to be afraid to go outside again!”

“I know.” He rubbed her back, his wide palms gentle and very warm.

“Do you?”

“I do. Car back-fires and firecrackers still make me jump. Thanks to Rosslyn, we all have PTSD and this is enough to jump start it again.”

His hands moved up to stroke her hair and CJ relaxed against him, enjoying the sensation.

“We ought to check on Josh,” she murmured.

“We should,” he agreed.

“But I like this. I feel calmer. You’re better than Valium.”

Toby chuckled and she felt the vibration move from his chest to hers. “I’ll put that on my resume. Better than Valium.”

“You make me feel safe.” She pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “Not many people can do that, Toby.”

“I make you feel safe?” Toby kept stroking her hair, his hands sliding to the back of her neck where they worked at the bands of tension wrapped tight at the base of her skull.

CJ nodded wordlessly.

“You know, I can see that. I am kind of feeling like a super hero. Considering how I pulled you down and all.”

“I would have got on the floor eventually!”

“Yeah, a couple of minutes after the fact. Your reflexes aren’t exactly cat-like.” He chuckled when she sputtered indignantly. “To use everyone’s favorite cliche, you’re cute when you’re angry.”

“You know, some days you infuriate me so much I can’t stand the sight of you. Other days–“

“What?”

“Other days I can’t imagine getting through the day without you.”

“Same here.”

“Some days you can’t stand the sight of me? I think I’m endearing!”

“You are. Very much so. And some days I can’t stand it because I’m still head over heels for Andi but somehow I think I’m just as head over heels for you, too.”

CJ went very still against him. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

“Tell me about it. I want to be in love with my ex-wife.”

“That’s not why you shouldn’t have said it.”

“Then why–?“

CJ pressed a finger to his lips. “Because now I want to kiss you.”

She lifted her mouth to his, captured his lips, and kissed him passionately. It was a serious kiss, the kind she only gave to a lover or potential lover, designed to make him feel like his soul was being sucked out through his mouth. Toby responded eagerly, his mouth moving over hers gently, then more insistently, his beard scraping the delicate skin around her lips.

“Jesus, CJ!” he gasped, as her hands slid and untucked his shirt and her palms moved over his skin in long, sweet strokes.

“You’re Jewish, ” she reminded him, nipping at his neck.

“You’re quibbling about religious semantics when I want to push you on the sofa and have my way with you.”

“Mmm, Toby.” CJ moved in closer, let her hips brush against him, felt him stir in response. “So forceful.” She gave him a wanton look from beneath half-closed eye lids. “You already pushed me down once today.”

“God help me, I’m about ready to do it again.” His hands snaked around her waist, spread across the small of her back, pulled her tightly against him. She made a soft sound of appreciation and pressed her hips against his. “Don’t tease me, Claudia. Not like this.”

“I’m not teasing,” she murmured. “Far from it.”

“Good. Because I want you. And I will have you.” He stepped back from her, went to the door, checked the lock, checked the blinds, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

She was pulling off her sweater, then the shell beneath it, kicking off her trousers to reveal her gorgeous long legs. She maneuvered him toward the couch, then onto it, and he moved between her legs, rolling his hips against hers. She pulled him down against her chest so that they were skin to skin, the heat of his body overwhelmingly appealing.

It was fast sex, but not rough or inattentive. It was life-affirming, assuring sex, that shook both of them to the core. When it was over they found themselves grinning at each other as they pulled on their clothes and got themselves back into a state where they were fit to be seen.

“You okay?” Toby asked.

“I can’t think of anyone who isn’t at least a little bit better after a roll in the hay.”

“Barn metaphors aside, I meant are you okay with this?”

“Better than okay.” CJ slid her hands to Toby’s chest. “This is what I’ve been wanting.”

“You’ve been wanting this? You and me, a little late-night office work?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.” He gave her a self-effacing little grin. “Come on, CJ, look at you, look at me. You don’t belong with a guy like me.”

“I’m not even going to debate such a ludicrous statement. Toby, like it or not, here we are. This is the way it is. Have a little faith that this is where we’re supposed to be.”

“Faith?” Toby snorted derisively.

“Faith,” she murmured insistently. “That this is right. For now.”

“I’m not so good with faith, CJ.”

“I’ve got enough for both of us.” She straightened her blouse. “Come on. They’ll miss us.”


***

They went back to the poker game and it was hard to keep the self-satisfied smile off of her lips.

"You're particularly upbeat for someone who's been shot at twice in four years,” Larry commented, passing CJ her cards.

"That's 'cause I have faith."

Larry stared at her as if she had lost her mind. “Faith?"

CJ grinned at him, moving her cards around in her hand, arranging them by suit. "The substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen."

Toby was doing a better job keeping the smile off his face. “I think what he's asking is why most other nights do you think the world's going to hell in a hula hoop but tonight ...” He didn’t have to finish the sentence.

“Faith in what?" Larry asked, still pressing the point, oblivious to the unspoken looks between CJ and Toby.

"In us."

"The people in this room?"

She didn’t even have to look at Toby this time. "And many, many, many others."

END.



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