Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Saywer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)

Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather.

Rating: The entire series is being posted under “Adult”, even if the chapter isn’t, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys.

Disclaimer: These guys don’t belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don’t get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills.

A/N: I was reading a fic called "Attonement" by DaniBannani and in it, Toby called CJ "Jeanie". The idea stuck with me and I liked the nickname, so I credit her with the idea, even though I know there are others who have had similiar ideas, including the guys on West Wing.

Excerpts from Cry to Heaven, written by Anne Rice; Copyright 1982, Ballantine Books.

New York City, NY

He didn’t know why he was holding his breath while watching the election coverage. They weren’t going to win, that had been made obvious about two hours ago. And still he sat here, waiting for them to officially call the night. Around him, staffers packed the office into boxes and pushed the more sensitive documents through the one shredder they’d been able to get their hands on. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see CJ working quietly in his office, but on what exactly he wasn’t sure.

In the last twenty-four hours, he’d been witness to their candidate blowing up at her in ways that shouldn’t be legal. Although she’d kept her head held high for the duration of the scathing talking to, he knew enough to understand that the tougher set to her shoulders only meant she was going to keep from letting emotion cloud this moment for her. She had to, if anything, keep her composure. He also knew that her PR firm would give her a similar talking to, and he wondered, for the millionth time, why she had given up that position with the Women’s Leadership Conference.

Tearing himself away from the TV, Toby made his way to the small office he’d been given to use. She was sitting at his desk, looking through memos, and trying to not let it show how upset she was over tonight’s loss. “Hey …”

When she looked up at him, her blue eyes full of the same defeat he was feeling, he came in all the way and closed the door behind him. “CJ,” he started off, quietly, “it happens. That’s politics.”

“Toby … don’t start, okay.” She looked back down at the memos, anything to try and feel productive in these last few moments. “Did he give the speech?”

“Are you kidding? He’s going to hold out until the very end.” Toby snorted. “And you should be there when he does.”

“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same. I’m going to go home, open a beer, and just try and figure out how I’m going to go into work in the morning.” She refused to look up at him, knowing that he would be watching her, wondering if somewhere in there he was going to be coming too.

Toby sighed, grumbling, wishing for the love of everything Holy that he could understand that complicated mind of hers. So he just stood up, leaving her to her memos, and went hunting down their candidate.

CJ waited until the door closed behind him before looking up again, watching his retreating figure through the office. She hadn’t wanted him to get up and leave, but she couldn’t sit there with him either. Hating herself for not being able to figure herself out and for making him go through it too. She liked him, and she hated that too. She liked that when he rolled off of her, he always touched her stomach, as if making sure he hadn’t crushed her. She liked that when he wanted her on top of him, he’d tug her hips in a way that almost seemed like he was begging. She liked that he never stayed the night, or asked her to. She liked that this desk she was sitting at had been the site of more of their sexual encounters than any other place they frequented.

Maybe that was why she’d sought out his office. She didn’t know and she wasn’t in the mood to start exploring those aspects of herself right now. Right now, she had memos to go through and start getting rid of.

Halfway across the office, he turned, feeling those eyes staring into his back. She sat there, looking through the window of his office, meeting his eyes with her own. He hated to admit how much he liked her. He liked how she argued with him, no matter the issue, even if she agreed with him. He liked how when they were in bed together she understood his silent signals and that she called his name when she came. He liked that she didn’t stay the night, and she never asked to. He liked that the desk she was sitting at was covered in her. And when he started back toward her again, this time the connection was interrupted by the candidate, bellowing that it was time for the concession speech. Sighing, Toby followed. CJ was just going to have to wait.

“I’m not sure yet. What about you?” His eyes found hers and his hand slipped lower, slowly tracing the bony lines of her hips.

“I still have a job. Remember, the PR firm you guys hired?” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I still work for them.”

“See, you did it the right way.” His fingers continued their downward search, coming to rest on her inner thigh, caressing lightly, and smirking a bit as he watched her try not to squirm. He loved teasing her and tormenting her, and it happened more here than at her place. There she was in control, and the sex tended to be far more athletic and demanding. But this was his apartment, his bed, and on his turf, he made the rules for what went on in bed. At least, he liked to think he did. And, lying here, there was a rule he wanted to break, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. So, rather than getting her to ask another question so that he could avoid the last one, he leaned in, kissing her again, claiming her mouth and her body for his own.

Sunlight filtered through the small window in the apartment, casting long shadows through the room and telling the roaches that it was time to find somewhere else to play for a while. Curled up on the small couch bed were two figures, wrapped tightly in each other, sleeping comfortably.

Toby opened his eyes first, almost frightened by the scent of the woman in his arms. She’d never stayed the night before, but last night, it had seemed natural to fall asleep in each other’s arms. No conversation had been had about it, no arguing, they’d just fallen asleep together, talking, and hardly moved from how they’d been holding each other. And just like that, the rule had been broken. Toby looked down at her alabaster skin, and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, amazed at his own tenderness toward her. Going into the evening, he’d assumed everything would fall apart, with the ending of the campaign came the ending of the sex. But now, holding her, he was so glad she’d stayed.

She stirred lightly at his touch, and when she opened her eyes, they were filled with the same panic he’d first felt when he’d woken only a few moments ago. And, as he had, she relaxed, and snuggled closer to him. “Well …” she said softly, “this takes us to a whole new level, doesn’t it.”

“Yeah …” He whispered, still lightly caressing her skin. “Of course, I’m also not keeping you here if you don’t want to be.”

“Toby …” looking up at him, she forced him to meet her eyes. “Shut up.” She didn’t know what she wanted, and waking up here had been the farthest thing from her mind. She had liked their good little world, but that world had ended with the concession speech last night, so it only made sense that something about their relationship would change as well. She just hadn’t been expecting this.

He laughed, lightly, and kissed her nose. “Okay, but then what, hm?” The laughter continued when she hit him, hard, on the arm and he just rolled over her, slipping a leg between her knees and sliding her willing legs apart.

“I’m going to be late for work, Toby,” she moaned as he kissed her neck. “I still have to head back to my apartment and get clothes …”

“So you’ll be late,” he growled. “They’ll understand.”

“Yeah …” she hissed as he entered her, digging her nails into his back. “I’m sorry, but I was late because my lover was having his way with me…”

“Exactly,” he murmured in time to his first thrust, before silencing her arguments with his lips. They didn’t speak again until she cried his name as she climaxed and he grunted her own as he poured himself into her. It was always in this moment that he wondered about birth control and if she’d ever get pregnant. He had a passing idea she was on the pill, but they’d never talked about it. So, when she finally rolled out of bed, pulling on her clothes, he watched, wondering what this really meant. “CJ?” She turned back to him, blouse half buttoned, hair messed, and got out of bed, slowly, completely unaware of his nakedness compared to her fully dressed state. Totally unsure of what to do next, he stroked her hair back behind her ears, “Call me when you get home from work tonight. We’ll go out or something, okay?”

Blushing slightly, she just nodded and smiled. “Pick me up at my place at nine, okay?”

“Yeah.” It came out more as a question than he wanted it to.

“Yeah.” Kissing him softly, she moved to slip her shoes on, grab her briefcase, and hurry out before she was even later for work. Toby just sat on the edge of his bed, smelling her on the sheets, and wondering what was next for him.

He had known only routine hunger and cruelty among the large peasant brood to which we was born the eleventh child. And all of his life, Guido remembered he was given his first good meal and soft bed by those who made him a eunuch.”

Honestly, Toby wasn’t sure if he cared at all about what she was reading to him, but he did know that the very thought made him hurt. He hadn’t had the chance yet to pick up this latest of the Anne Rice books, though, and he liked that CJ liked her. And even better, he liked that her idea of going out was ordering pizza in and staying in either of their beds, reading to each other from random passages of books from authors they shared a love for. Rice was a guilty, secret pleasure of his. He liked how cerebral she was, how even if the story was beyond even the most logical realm of comprehension, she still made you think. “Are you really sure you want to be talking about eunuchs while I’m lying here on your bed?” Reaching for another piece of pizza, he chuckled at the glare she threw him.

“You said you hadn’t read this one yet.”

“I want to know where in your world you find the time to read like you do. Getting through your undergrad and grad school in five years, and then working like you do.”

“A woman has her ways, Tobus.” Chuckling, she closed the book and reached for a piece of pizza for herself. “I think you’re just uncomfortable because we’re talking about men with no balls.”

“It’s not exactly a topic of conversation that sits well with me,” he laughed as CJ reached over and tried to squeeze him through his boxer shorts. “Stop that.”

“Okay, fine.” Giggling, she reached for the book again. “It was a beautiful room to which he was taken in the mountain town of Caracena. It had a real floor of smooth stone tiles, and on the wall Guido saw a ticking clock for the first tie in his life and was frightened of it. The soft-spoken men who had taken him from his mother’s hands asked him to sing for them. And afterwards rewarded him with a red wine full of honey.” Looking up, she closed the book again. “That sounds good, actually.”

“You have red wine and honey?”

“No, but there’s another beer in the fridge. Bring it to me.” She giggled again as he rolled his eyes at her but headed for the tiny kitchenette to get fresh beers for both of them. Watching as he rooted around for the cold drinks, CJ sighed softly, wondering how she’d managed to find herself in a situation like this again. Not since Ben had decided “they were better apart” had she dared to let herself even think about being with someone else, let alone finding herself in an actual relationship. And now she was reading Anne Rice to him and wanting to answer his questions about the scar on her forehead and the other one on her arm. She wanted to know why he only talked about his sisters, when there was also a brother in there as well. But instead, she just took the beer he handed back to her and opened the book again, fully intending to read, until Toby reached across the bed, closed the book, and gently pushed her down onto the mattress.

Over the next couple of months, the transition from lovers to a couple was almost seamless – something else CJ didn’t quite understand. Toby took a job with the political office for the public school system; CJ continued her upward trek in the PR firm. And when he took a job with one of the members of the New York assembly, they argued over the woman’s politics, and Toby kept threatening her with a job if she wouldn’t shut up. It was perfect.

“Are you ever going to tell me about this?” Pulling her closer into his arms, Toby nuzzled at her forehead, kissing the faded scar.

“Are you ever going to stop asking?”

“Well, you could tell me, and then I’d have no reason to ask.” But the tone wasn’t nearly as snappish as the words. Something about how she’d pulled away told him it wasn’t a case of falling out of a tree as a child.

“Toby …” she sighed and rolled away, keeping the blanket wrapped over her body, and letting her hand draw absently on the floor. “It’s …”

“Yeah?” Knowing better than to push her, he just waited. If she clamed up, she clamed up and he’d wait a few more months to ask again. But he had to know. She knew about his scars from the war, the protests, from just living the life he had been born in to. And he knew nothing, and it bothered him. But he just waited, tracing her spine with his fingertips, waiting to see if she would turn and distract him, or reach for the book, or finally tell him the truth about why her anger was so thinly veiled every time they heard of a woman being harmed at the hands of another. He had his own theories, but had a feeling that all of them were tragically off base.

“It’s old history, Toby. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I don’t worry, I wonder.” It was a lie, and they both knew it. He did worry about it, because whatever it was had changed her forever. But he just nodded, and chuckled as she reached under the futon for the discarded copy of Cry to Heaven.

“It was raining,” she began, “One of the last rains of the spring, perhaps. Because it was so warm nobody much minded. The piazza was silver and then a silvery blue in the rain, and from time to time the great stone floor seemed a solid sheet of shimmering water …” She shivered a bit, remembering without wanting to.

“CJ?” He looked at her, seeing the change in her blue eyes as they darkened even more. “Baby?” He almost never called her that, and she was the only one he’d ever give the name to. “What is it?”

“The rain …” she sighed softly, looking away from him, reaching up to touch the scar again. “It never rained there, but that day it did.” And he just sat, quietly.

“Anisah!” CJ giggled as she chased her friend across the hotel courtyard. “Anisah, I am NOT going out there in that downpour, and you shouldn’t either!”

“We shouldn’t go out at all.” Anisah laughed as she peeked out into the main street, unconsciously adjusting her veil over her head.

“Yeah, it’s raining.” CJ laughed and peeked her head out next to Anisah’s. Three days left in the country and it had finally decided to start raining. Finally. CJ actually missed the bay and the hills and she was so tired of sand she could scream. On the upside, she was getting to be very good at soccer. Basketball had been her sport in high school, and she missed playing a bit, but was glad she wasn’t a member of the team now. If she had been, she wouldn’t be here right now, with Anisah.

“I can’t believe we’re heading back in three days.” Anisah sighed and curled up into the small chair near the door.

“It’s been nice to be back home?” Curling up next to her, CJ smiled over at her friend.

“San Francisco is home, but being here has taught me so much about my own culture. It’s something that gets so lost back in the States.” She sighed.

“Yeah.” She tilted her head at her friend. “Hopefully we can eventually get a president to change that.”

Anisah just giggled. “Yeah, right. It’s a culture clash, Ceej. You know that.” She shook her head at her friend and smiled. “But I’m really glad you came along on this trip.”

“So am I. I had absolutely no idea about anything before I did this.” CJ grinned. “Anyway, if that one guy we met yesterday is any indication of the men here, I’m just going to stay and tell Ben to forget himself.” Anisah dissolved into giggles.

“I think he liked you too.” She grinned, teasingly.

“What was his name again?”

“Naji.” Anisah smiled, “And get the idea out of your head right now, Miss Cregg. The last thing we need is some incident involving an American girl and a Qumari boy. This isn’t the summer love story from Grease.” It was CJ’s turn to dissolve into giggles.

The two women barely looked up as another woman slipped through the courtyard. Dressed traditionally, she kept her head bowed and made a point to avoid the two American women. From what Hanan had heard of their conversation, she knew exactly whom they were referring to in their giggles, and she didn’t want her brother anywhere near them. But she just kept walking.

From the corner of her eye, CJ noticed the younger woman and looked over, wondering how much English the woman spoke and if she should call her into their conversation. But the woman was making a point to ignore her completely, and she had to respect that. So she turned back to Anisah’s giggling. “You’d never think we were just a semester away from getting our graduate degrees,” CJ said as she caught her friend’s eyes again. “And here we are, giggling like schoolgirls.”

“We are schoolgirls. Just, older ones.” The words caused them to both collapse into laughter again. Anisah looked over and called out to the woman crossing the courtyard, smiling, recognizing her from the night before. “You’re Hanan, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“We’re the same age, don’t you dare call me ma’am.” Anisah grinned, “This is CJ, I’m Anisah.”

“I remember.” Hanan offered them a small smile. She liked the women; she just didn’t want them to get in trouble. And she needed to get back to where Naji was waiting for her. They weren’t supposed to be unaccompanied. “I should go …”

CJ just offered her a smile. “You late for something? Cause it’s awful messy out there right now and,” she peeked out the window, “whoever was waiting for you isn’t now. Hold out until the storm passes. I promise, I don’t bite. I can’t speak for Anisah, though.”

Despite herself, Hanan giggled lightly and nodded, moving a bit closer to the women. CJ was right, her brother wasn’t out there. He was probably in the coffee shop, shooting dice, and waiting for the storm to pass. So she moved over, and sat, and was soon laughing right along with the American women.

“You got away with spending a summer in the Middle East?” Toby blinked at her, amazed.

“Yeah. And even got graded for it.” She chuckled a bit, reaching for the mostly empty beer bottle, wishing that she hadn’t started telling him about it. She missed Hanan, and Anisah was back in LA. “Spent the summer in Israel and Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq, Egypt, and even Qumar. We had the most amazing guides and I met a woman whom I’m still friends with.”

Toby actually smiled, listening to the excitement creep back into her voice. He wanted to ask if she’d met someone there, had some forbidden romance with an Arabic man that would still make her blush to tell it. It hadn’t been all that long since she’d received that Masters Degree she was so proud of. “And?”

She sighed and shook her head. “It isn’t …” Slowly, she pulled out of bed, searching for the book she’d abandoned.

Toby just took it from her, setting it back down, under the bed, and reached for her, gently pulling her into his arms. “It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to tell me everything.” He just kissed the top of her head. “Really, you don’t have to. It’s not like I’m going anywhere any time soon.”

She looked up at him then, smiling softly, “Careful, it’s words like that will send me running.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if you wanted to run, you’d have left already. And anyway, no matter where you go, I’ll always be able to find you.” He smiled softly, still wondering how it was that he’d managed to fall in love with her. And if he’d ever have the courage to tell her how he felt.

Sometimes she really hated how well he knew her. And even more, she loved the fact that if she did run, she wanted him to come after her. Looking back into his deep brown eyes, CJ leaned up to kiss him softly, forgetting about the book, Qumar, and everything except his hands and lips on her body.

2005 ~ Washington DC

She giggled a bit at the kiss they’d found themselves in and pulled out of his arms, reaching for her cigarettes. After a minute she got to her feet, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to go change. I still have those sweats here, right?”

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, “Can I watch?”

CJ kicked him, did absolutely no damage, and then just shook her head. “Stay where you are, Pokey.” Discarding the cigarette before lighting it, she disappeared back into the bedroom to pull on the old, ratted sweat suit that seemed too big now. She didn’t know if it was because she’d lost weight or the material was just so stretched out from the years of wear. But the tank top she wore with it was new and pulled tightly over her chest and the jacket was still the most comfortable thing she owned. Pulling on a pair of his socks to keep her feet warm, CJ padded back down the hallway and chuckled as she walked in in time to find him pouring scotch into the glasses. “Going to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”

“Well, I contemplated the drunk thing, anyway.” Giving her a smile, he sighed a bit, “You really shouldn’t wear that around me, and it’s that outfit that will get me to take advantage of you.”

“I’d be naked otherwise, Pokey. And that’s not for right now, I don’t think.”

Sighing dramatically, he just nodded and leaned back into the couch, leaving the scotch untouched on the coffee table. CJ wandered through the living room, again picking up her cigarettes and this time lighting one, inhaling the sweet scent of the smoke. Her eyes lingered on a picture of the twins and she stopped, touching their small faces with her finger. Toby watched her, seeing the pain of her own memories added to the pain she felt for David’s children. And he let her to her silent thoughts for a while, knowing she would speak when she was ready. Whether she spoke to what was really on her mind or started talking about something completely random, he had no idea. But he wasn’t going to push her either. He knew better than that. “Our child …” she sighed, “would be all grown up … was it really twenty years ago?”

“Just about.” He watched her carefully. “You really would have been a good mom, CJ. Even if it means that life would have been a hell of a lot of different for all of us.”

She chuckled, but her eyes weren’t twinkling, and he knew she was feeling the punches all over again, the jutting of the door as she slammed into it, Naji’s fists on her, the knife at her throat, the break in her ankle as she tried to run from him, tripping over her skirts and he wished, for the millionth time, that he had known her then, had been able to stop it from happening.

He felt, along with her, the searing pain of the miscarriage she’d suffered after leaving him to go to LA, feeling it like he had the first time she’d told him. Remembering the heartache of Andi’s miscarriage – at least he’d been there for Andi. CJ had been alone. She looked at him. “What are you going to do when we’re done, Toby?”

He processed her randomness, thinking, but the answer was right there, in front of him. “I think I have a Senate race in me yet.”

She looked at him, shaking her head. “Toby …”

“Don’t think about it right now. Right now you’ve got a country to run. Right now, actually, you need to sit down right here and talk to me. But I know what my plans are.” He patted the couch and smiled again when she came to sit next to him. She chuckled a little bit and curled up into the corner of the couch, looking at the two glasses of scotch. Neither raised a hand to pick them up.

She moved closer to him, her feet across his lap and he was rubbing her arches through his socks. “Why do you wear those four inch heels?”

“Because they make my legs look fabulous.”

“Your legs are already fabulous.” Grinning over at her, he laughed as she puffed a breath of smoke in his general direction. “So what’s the real reason?”

“I like heels, Tobus. They are strong they are sexy and damnit if I don’t look fantastic in them.” She grinned at him and reached over to stub out the cigarette, choking a bit on the lingering smoke.

“Yeah, you do look fantastic in them.” He continued to rub her feet, sighing softly. “So, Cliff Calley?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t get me started on that smug, self-righteous –“

“And yet you hired him. How did you get him to say yes?”

“I told him the White House was like the mob. All family and responsible for even more death and destruction.” She flashed him a grin and leaned back into the cushions some more. “I told him to show up tomorrow morning and deal with personnel, and that I’d see him in the afternoon and he was coming to Seattle.”

“You think he’ll show up?”

CJ looked at him. “It doesn’t matter the man in the office – when the President asks you to serve, you serve.”

“Well …” Toby grinned, knowing she was right. “So, you asked it before but never answered it. What do you want to be doing with yourself next year?”

Sighing, CJ looked at her hands, feeling the age. “Honest to God, I have no idea.”

“If we get a Democrat into the White House, you know you’ll have a seat at the table.”

“Do I really want one?”

“Of course you do.” He looked at her, seeing the answer in her eyes. “Of course you do. Because if you didn’t you’d have walked away a long time ago. You accepted the promotion ---“

“The President of the United States asked me to serve.”

“And you said yes. You want a seat at the table.”

“Doesn’t this go against everything we just said?”

“No. Because you do want a seat at the table. You want to make a difference. And you know I’m right. You couldn’t be happy back into the private sector.”

“I’ve thought about teaching.” She said it, quietly, simply.

He looked at her, blinking, completely surprised. “Really?”

“We’ve been the Education Administration for eight years, Toby. Maybe it’s time we lead by example.”

“How’s your dad, CJ?”

“That’s not the point, Toby.”

“I know. But …”

“It’s only a thought. I’ll probably take some time, get adjusted. The lawyers didn’t eat up all of my money back during the MS investigation, so my portfolio is enough for me to live on for the rest of my life if I wanted to. I think I’m just going to take some time and try to get readjusted to not getting up at 4:30 in the morning.”

“Yeah …” He looked at her, realizing again just how much she was out of his league and thinking that maybe Tommy was a better choice for her. So, he just started to rub her feet again, looking at her carefully though hooded eyes. Her mind wasn’t really here, and it wasn’t on the apartment in LA, or even on the twins, although her own eyes were fixated on the picture across the room. Right now she was in grad school. His fingers paused, tracing over the telltale scars on her ankle, only he knew where they were and he watched her flinch, involuntarily, at the touch. Privately, he wondered if he was still the only man she let touch her there.

“It’s going to happen, Toby. The relations are going to be solidified, and to make sure we keep what we need, we’re going to have to give them what they want, and that means giving in to the list of people we don’t want back in this country.” Her voice was heavy, lost, and he could only keep tracing the scars, over and over again. How a woman this powerful, this confident in everything could be reduced to something like this, after so long, mystified him.

“Yeah.” He just agreed with her.

“We don’t comment when women are killed anymore.”

“Have we ever?” They both flinched at the tone in his voice.

“Talk about David to me.”

“I don’t want to.” His fingers gripped around her ankle and she tugged her foot away, glaring a bit at him for breaking that sacred trust. Tugging her leg back into his lap, his fingers became gentle again as he tried to wipe away the mental bruising. “I don’t want to,” he answered her unasked question, “because tomorrow morning you’re getting on a plane to fly to Seattle to deal with a budget meeting and then coming back here to deal with a list of people that State is willing to let into the country. Somewhere in there, you need to get Cliff Calley ready to go. So you’re going to get up off of this couch and go to my bedroom and sleep.”

“Toby …” She looked at him, her eyes wide. And he reached down and tugged her into a sitting position, pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on the side of her head.

“Go to bed, Jeanie. I’ll be in …” he paused … “If you want me to be …” Her arms tightening around him answered the question and he nuzzled at her neck. “Go on. Go to bed.”