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Later that Night Author: Cat (RhiannonNiamh@aol.com) Summary: Yet another episode addition to "The Midterms." CJ/Toby. Spoilers for "The Midterms", and possibly very minor ones for "In the Shadow of Two Gunmen." It would probably help to read "That Which Lingers Still" first. Disclaimer: They belong to Aaron Sorkin. I'm merely borrowing them, hoping to preserve what's left of my sanity. Archive: Wherever, just let me know :-) Feedback is indeed quite nice. Constructive criticism is welcome. No cricket bats at my head. Feel free to send Toby or Josh though. ;-) For L, my VIBE cohort. This came about after a lengthy discussion about the arm grabbing and our mutual hatred of Allison Janney's legs <g>. I very much appreciate all the feedback on my previous story; you all asked for more so here it is. ********************************************************************* It was nice being outside. C.J. Cregg couldn't remember the last time she'd simply sat outside and done nothing. So here she was, sitting out on the stoop in front of Josh's townhouse, doing nothing. Donna had long since forced Josh inside, only allowing him his one beer, despite his complaining that he, in fact, did NOT have a sensitive system and was quite capable of handling another one. Sam had gone too, in an attempt to placate Josh, distracting him with talk of the election results. Only Toby had remained. So they sat here together, silent, doing nothing. 'It's amazing how many things you notice when you aren't actually doing anything.' C.J. mused. She thought that maybe it was because it was nighttime. Things were always clearer at night, like a heavy fog had lifted. Those hazy particles of dust that you could see in a ray of sunshine during the day…those didn't exist at night. She saw a lot of those dust particles cooped up in her office all the time. There were no such things after the sun had set. She couldn't see the stars; the rain clouds had remained after the storm, the air sizzled with the kind of electricity normally common after summer storms. Usually that sort of energy left things unsettled, poised to jump. But C.J. felt reasonably calm and content, sitting here with her beer and Toby. Odd, considering the news they'd just received. But she knew better than to knock this momentary peace she'd acquired. So she sat back and enjoyed the fall leaves drifting to the ground, the smell of rain in the sky, the faint sounds of Josh and Donna bantering inside, and the company of the man at her side. After a few minutes, she looked down, only to find him staring at her, a contemplative look in his eyes. He ducked his head when their gazes locked, grateful that at least she hadn't caught him staring at her legs. It wasn't as if that was, in and of itself, an appalling act, C.J. did have gorgeous legs. It was one of her many attributes that he wasn't exactly immune to. That didn't mean he wanted her to know about it. He looked back up. She was watching him, head cocked to the side, her face a mixture of inquisitiveness and amusement. An image that many men would probably see as adorable and charming. Toby wasn't many men, not by far, but in this case, he'd grudgingly have to agree with them. Her voice interrupted his reverie. "What is it, Toby?" she asked, a distinct lilt to her words. He had indeed amused her in some way. "What are you so happy about, C.J.?" he grumbled, his feigned irritation an attempt to dislodge the fun she seemed to be having at his expense. From the look she gave him, his attempt had apparently been weak at best. He was losing his touch. Then again, when had C.J. ever been fazed by any of his moods? "Not a single thing," she said serenely, refusing to rise to the bait. He acknowledged her response with an imperceptible upturn to the corner of his mouth. Abruptly he turned serious and looked her straight in the eye, his gaze turning soft. "You do seem happier C.J. You don't look as tired anymore, either," he observed quietly. "I'm glad." She inclined her head in a slight nod, her golden hair brushing along the lapels of her coat. Her fingers played absently with the beer bottle in her hands, rotating it around and around in little circles. "I'm getting there, Toby." She hesitated, her mind going back to their last late night conversation three weeks ago. Remembering the promise she'd extracted from him, she wanted to ask how he was doing, but she wasn't sure how he'd react, especially with the news of the election results fresh in his mind. Before she could open her mouth, he did what he was best at. He threw her off-guard. "I requested a leave of absence," he announced, his voice low and steady. She sat stunned for a few moments, processing the information. She couldn't believe he had actually done it. "You talked to Leo?" she said finally. "No, I talked to the President. He refused my request." Her head shot up. "Why?" "He said that it was time to get up off the mats," Toby answered, his eyes on her hands as she released her death grip on the bottleneck and resumed her twisting. "He is right, you know," she ventured cautiously. "I know." "What else?" she questioned. He turned his head, his heated gaze holding hers. For a long moment, the air was charged, crackling with an invisible current. This time it definitely wasn't the weather. C.J. couldn't seem to look away. Toby had a compelling look in general. Most of the time, she thought that she was used to it. But every so often, the consuming depths of his eyes caught her unprepared. Like now. It was Toby who broke their stare. His gaze shifted around the way she knew it did when he was buying time, gathering his reply. She waited. "He said basically the same thing that you said a few weeks ago. He said that we should keep coming to work every day." "The President's a very wise man." "Yes, he is." They sat in silence. A light breeze had picked up. 'Maybe it'll rain again,' C.J. thought idly, resting her head against the iron-wrought railing behind her and closing her eyes. He watched her for a moment, riveted by the tranquility he saw in her face. She lived a life of ordered chaos, working with them day after day for the most powerful man in the world, constantly weaving through the tangle of politics to the point where most would succumb to the cynicism that loomed in every corner…and yet she seemed to find some sort of peace in something as simple as the breeze on her face. "C.J., I know that I don't say it enough, if ever, and I'm certain that I will forget to say it again in the future, but…thank you," he said suddenly, his words tumbling out in a rush. Slowly, her eyes opened, brilliant and shining under the light cast by the street lamps. She regarded him quietly, seeming to realize that he wasn't done just yet. "You are very important to me," Toby continued softly. "And I'm lucky to have you in my life." They watched each other, Toby with a hint of trepidation, C.J., unblinking, her eyes unnaturally bright. Her lips wavered and then curved into a small smile. Toby let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Slowly, her right hand reached out once again, gracefully settling on his arm, and she squeezed it gently. For an instant, his eyes closed and he thought he could feel the heat of her touch through his heavy coat. Without thinking, he lifted his right hand and placed it over hers, smoothing the back of her hand with his thumb before laying it to rest. He looked out over the street and then leaned his head back, his shoulders sinking as some of the tension left his body. His only witness let out a small sigh and closed her eyes again, her dark lashes damp as they swept across her alabaster skin. Her smile remained, its warmth dancing across her cheeks. "It works both ways Toby," she whispered. And they sat together in silence, content to do nothing more than enjoy each other's company. Finis
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