In the Moments After
Title: In the Moments After
WC: 600
Characters: CJ and Toby
Rating: PG
Summary: Toby goes to see CJ after her press conference at the end of Women of Qumar
He waited, patiently, until she was done with the press conference, outside her door, watching her on the television. And still her light tap on his shoulder surprised him; he didn't ask permission to walk in, just did so, gently shutting the door behind him. Neither one said anything as she fixed papers and fed Gail; the whole time Toby waited, hands patiently interlocked behind his back. When she looked up, he dipped his head, surprised, embarrassed at how much hurt was behind her eyes.
"Talk to me, CJ, please," he said softly, opening his arms to embrace the words.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Maybe a little." Beat. "No, you're not in trouble. I'm just here as a friend." Beat. "CJ, please."
She slammed her fist on the desk, holding back tears, "I just … It's just not fair."
"No," Toby agreed quietly. "It's not." Beat. "CJ, what's really going on?"
"Nothing."
"I don't think blowing up at the National Security Adviser counts as nothing."
"It's just … not fair."
Toby allowed himself a small smile, "The world's not fair CJ."
"And so we just sit here and … let them beat women?"
"We take it one day at a time." He holds up his finger, one. "One day. Today we might have slipped a little, but CJ, we can't … we can't just save the world in one day."
"Why not?"
"If, for no other reason, because it's already tomorrow in Australia."
"But these women! Toby! These women … they …"
Toby moved forward, touched her arm, "CJ, please, talk to me."
And she fell then, broke the wall of emotion she had been trying to keep; he caught her, lead her to the couch, his hands gentle on her shoulders, "Claudia?" Asked softly, in a terrified manner. He was afraid of her, of her falling, of what she was so emotionally wrapped up in. He was scared of the truth, of a fragile friend, of suddenly being unable to find the right words- to find any words- that might bring some comfort.
"I live here, and they live there, and …" She shook her head. "It's just not just at all."
He isn't sure that there's nothing more to it than that, he spoke again, still quiet, "CJ?"
"Don't you hate to be an American sometimes?"
"Pardon?"
"We live here, in this life of unimaginable luxury, and what do they have? The sin of being born in a country that only sees them as submissive machines of their husbands! And no-one cares! No-one gives a damn about the women in these countries who are beaten day in and day out. Instead, women here get all hyped up about whether rap is demeaning or not! No-one cares- no-one can see this as a human rights issue."
He spoke carefully, his words soft, gently. Trying not to be pressuring too much, "Did something … happen?"
CJ looked confused by the question, then shook her head, "No, no Toby. Nothing like that."
She spoke more casually, "My father never hit me, you know."
"Yeah?"
"He'd yell, but he never raised a hand to me. Your father hit you?"
Beat. "Sometimes."
"A boyfriend hit me, once." Beat. "College. I dumped him two days before he graduated."
"He hit you?"
"Yeah," CJ answered, lost again.
"They beat women, Toby."
"He hit you?" Low. Dangerous.
"Toby." Warning.
"He hit you." He dropped the question, held her gaze intently.
"Once. It was a long time ago." She sounded tired.
"They beat women, Toby."
"Yeah," he said softly, just as tired and as lost she was.
WC: 600
Characters: CJ and Toby
Rating: PG
Summary: Toby goes to see CJ after her press conference at the end of Women of Qumar
He waited, patiently, until she was done with the press conference, outside her door, watching her on the television. And still her light tap on his shoulder surprised him; he didn't ask permission to walk in, just did so, gently shutting the door behind him. Neither one said anything as she fixed papers and fed Gail; the whole time Toby waited, hands patiently interlocked behind his back. When she looked up, he dipped his head, surprised, embarrassed at how much hurt was behind her eyes.
"Talk to me, CJ, please," he said softly, opening his arms to embrace the words.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Maybe a little." Beat. "No, you're not in trouble. I'm just here as a friend." Beat. "CJ, please."
She slammed her fist on the desk, holding back tears, "I just … It's just not fair."
"No," Toby agreed quietly. "It's not." Beat. "CJ, what's really going on?"
"Nothing."
"I don't think blowing up at the National Security Adviser counts as nothing."
"It's just … not fair."
Toby allowed himself a small smile, "The world's not fair CJ."
"And so we just sit here and … let them beat women?"
"We take it one day at a time." He holds up his finger, one. "One day. Today we might have slipped a little, but CJ, we can't … we can't just save the world in one day."
"Why not?"
"If, for no other reason, because it's already tomorrow in Australia."
"But these women! Toby! These women … they …"
Toby moved forward, touched her arm, "CJ, please, talk to me."
And she fell then, broke the wall of emotion she had been trying to keep; he caught her, lead her to the couch, his hands gentle on her shoulders, "Claudia?" Asked softly, in a terrified manner. He was afraid of her, of her falling, of what she was so emotionally wrapped up in. He was scared of the truth, of a fragile friend, of suddenly being unable to find the right words- to find any words- that might bring some comfort.
"I live here, and they live there, and …" She shook her head. "It's just not just at all."
He isn't sure that there's nothing more to it than that, he spoke again, still quiet, "CJ?"
"Don't you hate to be an American sometimes?"
"Pardon?"
"We live here, in this life of unimaginable luxury, and what do they have? The sin of being born in a country that only sees them as submissive machines of their husbands! And no-one cares! No-one gives a damn about the women in these countries who are beaten day in and day out. Instead, women here get all hyped up about whether rap is demeaning or not! No-one cares- no-one can see this as a human rights issue."
He spoke carefully, his words soft, gently. Trying not to be pressuring too much, "Did something … happen?"
CJ looked confused by the question, then shook her head, "No, no Toby. Nothing like that."
She spoke more casually, "My father never hit me, you know."
"Yeah?"
"He'd yell, but he never raised a hand to me. Your father hit you?"
Beat. "Sometimes."
"A boyfriend hit me, once." Beat. "College. I dumped him two days before he graduated."
"He hit you?"
"Yeah," CJ answered, lost again.
"They beat women, Toby."
"He hit you?" Low. Dangerous.
"Toby." Warning.
"He hit you." He dropped the question, held her gaze intently.
"Once. It was a long time ago." She sounded tired.
"They beat women, Toby."
"Yeah," he said softly, just as tired and as lost she was.