Author: ballynihinch
Pairing: CJ/Josh
Spoilers: Thru Birnam Woods, but no one knows about Leo’s heart attack yet. I think it definitely creates some irony for A Change Is Going To Come, but maybe that’s just me.
Disclaimers: I don’t own anything related to The West Wing…more’s the pity. I’d enjoy having that much cash just floating around in my bank account…
Feedback: ballynihinch@hotmail.com
Author’s Note: I once wrote a story about Sam’s relationship with Donna. Finally, the other shoe has dropped. Here are Josh and CJ enjoying a night in each other’s company…it’s as close as I could get them to being in something like a French movie.
LES AMOUREUX
It was different this time.
Not good, not bad – just different.
They both had something to prove, and there were plenty of ghosts in the room.
********
He had kissed her before. Quite a few times, actually.
There had been New Years’ parties and victory celebration dances and many mistletoe moments over the years.
There had also been the handful of times when, after getting smashed at some bar, they had shared a cab back into Georgetown or waited for one together, and passed the time with slow, sloppy kisses that left her lips – and other places, too – all wet.
They never crossed any lines at work. The random kissing had never led anywhere, so there had never been any lingering awkwardness at the office.
But there had definitely been times when she had wondered what he might be like in bed.
There had been that one night, for instance, after Joey Lucas had told them about the polling data for the State of the Union, when he had lifted her high into the air and made her squeal, both from shock and delight.
The man had good arms.
Damn fine arms, to be precise.
It wasn’t a romantic thing between them. It was nice, but not needy. When things had happened, she had liked them.
Above all, it was an occasional way to kill off tension and communicate, for once, without words. There were so many words in their lives, it seemed.
And right now, the world was a very tense place indeed.
The summit at Camp David was over. Toby was pissed at everyone. The president and Leo were at each other’s throats. Kate Harper seemed to be everywhere all at once.
Sam was long gone. She missed Spanky. It would have been nice to have had him near during all of this crap.
Ben was away in the Rockies. He hadn’t said when he was coming back – if ever.
And Donna was in Germany with her boyfriend from Belfast – a boyfriend CJ felt she had forced upon Donna because of their conversation the night of the lockdown.
CJ had been as honest as she could be that night, without mentioning exactly *how* she knew about Josh and Donna’s not-so-professional relationship. There were some things Donna didn’t need to know, like how Josh used to get drunk with *her* and vent his frustration about wanting his assistant before going over to Donna’s and terrorizing the cats.
Yes, CJ knew about the cats.
She knew a lot about many things.
But that night, when they got back from Camp David, she *didn’t* know that Josh was going to turn up on her doorstep.
********
She opened the door and rolled her eyes. “What are *you* doing here?”
“Wow. Remind me not to let you write cards for Hallmark. You suck at greetings.”
“I thought you might be Ben.”
His eyebrow quirked upwards. “He’s still not back yet?”
“No. You brought whiskey?” she asked, deftly changing the subject. “Jack Daniels?”
“On a night like this I prefer to call him John.”
He walked past her and put the bottle on the coffee table.
“That bad, huh?”
He shrugged. “The good thing is she’s coming home.”
“With or without the hot photographer?”
“That’s the bad news.”
“Ah. I’ll get us some glasses.”
For long, countless minutes they sat on her green leather couch and drank in silence. The TV was on, but the volume was low. The light from the screen flickered on their faces in the darkness of the room.
When the bottle was nearly half empty, he started talking.
“How are you doing with…you know…the dating thing?”
She knocked back another finger of the fiery liquid before answering. “Well, you found me alone on a Saturday night. What does that tell you?”
“That you might be feeling the way I do? Kinda?”
“I guess. The same, but different.”
The quiet descended once more. It was a comfortable silence, enveloping one in a much needed embrace. The air was full with the solace of shared thoughts.
He stared into the bottom of his glass. It was a good glass – just enough of a solid, heavy weight in the hand to remind one that this was a man’s drink. But he was drinking it with a woman. Maybe he meant ‘man’ in the universal human sense. Maybe it was an equal opportunity kind of scotch.
Maybe he was thinking too much.
“When I got back,” he started, “I liked that hug you gave me. You felt good.”
She looked at the wall in front of her. “Yeah.”
Suddenly he looked up, his eyes hungrily taking in her position on the couch, so far away from his own.
“How much do you want to forget?” he asked quickly.
“Forget what?”
“Just…everything.” He sighed. “Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
When her eyes met his they were soft, almost golden, like the whiskey he held, forgotten, in his hand. Her voice was low and breathy, but it had an edge, too – an edge that kept him on his end of the couch.
“Josh. You’ve run yourself ragged lately. You’ve been through hell. No one’s going to blame you if you feel a bit…defeated…these days.”
He focused on her lips. His tongue darted out briefly to wet his own.
“I don’t know if I’m defeated. I just know I need something real tonight. No limbo, no suppressed feelings, no unresolved sexual tension garbage. Just something solid and warm and…real.”
He leaned in, closing the distance between them.
And God help her, she leaned in too. How could she not? How could any woman in her right mind not be drawn to such a man at such a moment?
“I’m going to kiss you,” he growled softly. His fingers swept up along her cheek, pushing her hair back behind her ear.
“Are you drunk enough to do that?”
“Look, I’m on my own tonight. I’m alone. You’re alone. And you *are* real, CJ. You just are.”
His words were still echoing in her mind when he closed the gap and claimed her lips for his own.
It was different this time from any other time they had kissed. His mouth was ravenous and totally demanding. Guys so often expected her to take the lead – maybe it was the height thing – but not this man.
Not this night.
She was responding to him, running her hands behind his neck and letting her thumbs drift up to play with his ear lobes.
When the kiss ended, they were both panting.
“And Donna?” she asked, still out of breath. “What about Donna? She’s crazy about you.”
He closed his eyes. “I can’t go there. Not yet.”
When he looked at her again she saw desire written all over his face. There was something else there, too, something she couldn’t name but was certainly able to recognise.
“I can’t go there,” he repeated. “Not until – until things change. And I’m not going there tonight.”
“One night, Josh,” she warned. “One. That’s all. Because –”
“Because we both have other things to deal with. I know.”
Laying her hand against her forehead, she half-smiled and rolled her eyes. “I must be really drunk – and totally stressed out.”
“You’re not that drunk.”
“And the stress?”
Now it was his turn to smile. “Ten bucks says that I can make you completely relaxed in less than ten minutes.”
She gave him a look. It wasn’t a happy one.
“If you think for one second that money is about to become involved in this, Joshua Lyman, I’m gonna kick you till you’re dead.”
Momentarily putting his hands up as a shield, he gave in; then his smile became even cockier. “Fine. No money. Bragging rights?”
“You’re on.”
His eyes grew dark. “Cm’ere.”
*****
She ended up on the carpet, her shirt off and thrown in some forgotten corner of the room. It had felt odd to be in front of Josh Lyman in only her bra for all of about eight seconds and then she just got into the moment.
It wasn’t that hard to do.
Josh straddled her thighs and proceeded to give her one of the best damn back rubs she’d had in years. CJ lay on her stomach, her fact cradled against her crossed arms. She often had thought that only people who had been through late-night cramming sessions in their junior year of college truly understood how good a massage after midnight could be. There certainly hadn’t been a man yet to prove her theory wrong…and Josh had had quite the education in both academics and massage technique.
His hands swept from the nape of her neck all the way down to her tailbone. Her slacks were still on, but she felt fairly confident they might not stay that way for much longer. Every so often he sussed out a spot of rigid tension and worked at it with the pads of his fingers. He wasn’t rough, but he was absolutely thorough in a way that made her spine want to melt into nothingness.
He was rubbing a kink in her lower back when she started talking.
“You’re good at this.”
“Years of practice.”
“Ah, there’s my favourite touch of arrogance.”
She heard rather than saw his smirk. “I don’t leave home without it.”
“Do you ever wonder why it hasn’t gotten weird between us?” she asked as his hands switched from near her left hip to her right.
“Because it doesn’t.”
“Yeah, but why not?”
“I don’t know.”
His fingers ceased their ministrations. She missed them when they left her skin. She heard glass scrape against the coffee table and realised he’d stopped to take another sip of scotch.
“I’m glad it doesn’t get weird,” she murmured.
“It’s not like we’ve ever gone beyond the pale, CJ,” he said. His hands came back to touch her again. One of them was slightly moist from the condensation on the glass.
“Just wait, *mi amor*…I’m going to rock your world tonight.”
“Is that a promise or a threat?”
She looked back over her shoulder and met his eyes. They were twinkling at her. “Maybe a bit of both, Joshua. You never know.”
His twinkling eyes took on a more heated tone that made her want to grind her hips down into the carpet. That was one hell of a ‘Come Hither’ look. She could feel it all the way down to her toes.
“It’s not going to get weird,” he promised. “It’s just going to get good. Things at work might be getting weird, but not us. We’re not like that.”
He paused; she could feel his eyes looking at her back. She suddenly felt very aware of her bra strap against her skin.
“I’m not too fond of Kate,” he said.
“Where the hell did that come from?” she asked sharply.
His fingers dug deeper into the fleshy area above her hips. “I’m just talking.”
“O-kay.” CJ was silent for a minute, trying to balance Josh talking shop while he pretty much had her half-naked on the floor of her apartment.
Then again, they *would* be the type to talk about everything and anything during a time like this.
She licked her lips and squashed his fears. “Kate won’t last.”
“People come and go from that building all the time, CJ. Things might change.”
She shook her head and laid her cheek on the carpet. “Josh, nothing’s going to change at work and nothing’s going to change us. I’ll be there in the Press Room holding briefings and decorating Gail’s fishbowl until security evicts me in January 2007.”
He laughed low in his throat. “Good to know.”
Then his hands drifted lower to trace the sides of her spine near her tailbone. Her mouth fell open as she moaned loudly.
“God. Right there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Not two seconds later he had unsnapped her bra and was running his hands slowly up the length of her back, never breaking contact. She pulled the silky material out from beneath her, freeing her breasts completely. Now it was her nipples that were making contact with the carpet pile and she rocked back and forth slightly, increasing the friction.
Her back now bare to him, he increased the length and breadth of his caresses. His hands swept up from the base of her tailbone to the tips of her shoulders and back again. With each downward stroke, Josh’s fingers danced along the plumped edges of her breasts. She sighed, wanting him to touch all of her.
That thought firmly in mind, she scooted back slightly and pressed her ass against the rigid erection at the front of his jeans. He hissed at the sensation and she pushed harder against him, rubbing slightly up and down.
His voice had fallen down into a husky baritone when he spoke. “Relaxed yet?”
“I’m getting there,” she panted.
“Me too.”
“Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“You seem kind of tense, actually. That’s a hell of a lot of hard muscle back there.”
He groaned when she reached one hand behind her to flatten against his length.
“That’s not fair, Claudia Jean,” he whispered. “I’m not done with your massage yet.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah.”
With her ass raised up to press against him, he had more than enough room to reach around and unbutton her pants. He slid the zipper down quickly and then his fingers were boldly pushing aside her panties and threading through her curls.
When he found her clit she moaned and raised up a little higher, giving him as much access as she could while keeping her chest against the ground. She let her one hand fall away from his jeans, needing it to balance and ground herself.
He began to rub her in small circles, pressing harder and then softer, spreading her wetness around as it neared his fingers. At the same time, he began to grind against her ass, curling himself slightly around her as the massage took on its most intimate aspect yet.
Her mind drifted to focus on the vacuum-like smell of the carpet, the curious sensation of her hardened nipples burning with each sway of her body against the textured floor, and the exquisite feel of his cock rocking against her even through the layers of clothing. Most of all, she thought about his hands, the way his fingers were sliding around between her legs, teasing her, making her hot, making everything tighten and react to his touch.
Then he let two of his fingers slip inside her and she lost it, squeezing down hard again and again as he pleasured her into dreamy, bright oblivion.
When she collapsed to the ground, he pulled her back up against him, his one hand still down her pants and the other now palming her breast. He nosed her hair out of the way to kiss her damp neck.
“Bragging rights?” he smirked.
Turning in his arms, she reached down and cupped his hardness through his jeans, not yet conceding.
“I think it’s my turn,” she whispered, before squeezing him and then kissing him full on the mouth.
*****