Fic: WW: angels, hitman, timbaktu (repost)
Title: angels, hitman, timbaktu
Author:
ellixian
Characters: CJ, Josh (friendship)
Category: PG
Spoilers: None at all. This is probably set at some point in Season 1 though.
Summary: Josh is very, very bored indeed.
Concrit: Sure - hit me with it!
Disclaimer: I took CJ and Josh out for a couple of hours and we got totally smashed and it was lots of fun. But now I'm returning them to Aaron Sorkin - they're his creations, after all!
Originally posted: May 14, 2001 (in Yahoo!Groups, as 'gaityr') - look at me, writing in past tense and everything!
A/N: In honour of all the WW love that's been floating around lately - I promise I'm working on new House!fic, but right now, there's definitely a lot of nostalgia and love for old-school WW. When I first started out as a fan, I thought it would be impossible to write good WW fic. I'm not pretending to have done so here, because this is purely fluff and banter written for the sake of banter, but at least I had lots of fun doing it. Plus, CJ and Josh? I LOVE THEIR SNARK, more than is strictly healthy. Now if I can only unlock my decades-old laptop and unearth the CJ/Toby and Jed/Abbey fics I know I wrote back when my love for this show was so, so strong...
- - - - -
"Hey, CJ!" he called as he noticed her barreling down the hallway. "Minute of your time?"
She paused momentarily, eyes still trained on the sheaf of notes in her hand. "Let me think about that, Josh. Uhhhh..." She flipped a page, then looked up at him over the rims of her spectacles. "No."
"Oh come on, CJ!" he whined, chasing after her as she began to stride down the corridor again. "Just a minute."
"Josh, I really don't have time for this. I'm going over my notes for the briefing I have to give in about ten minutes." She was still reading and half-running at the same time, and Josh jogged along beside her, a bright-eyed puppy trying to get her attention.
"I just need to ask you a question, just one."
She checked her watch. "Nine minutes, Josh. I can't give you one."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued, "I've given you one before, and oddly enough, have always and without fail lived to regret it. If I gave you one now, and knowing the exact sort of inane question you're going to ask me, I'd end up telling the Washington Post that I don't have a proper answer to their question because I spent the other eight minutes of my prep time cleaning your blood off my shoes."
"I'm hurt, CJ," he responded blandly. "Wounded, in fact. What makes you think this isn't work-related?"
"I think the fact that you've been bouncing around Donna's desk for the past two hours is a pretty good indication that you're high on caffeine or sugar or something equally disturbingly artificial. That, and the fact that you're obviously bored."
"Donna's my assistant! I couldn't have been talking to her about work things?"
"Go away, Josh," she sighed, and pushed open the door to her office. Once at her desk, she picked up a pencil and started scribbling on one of the papers in her hand. "It's not 254, it's..." She looked up. "Still here, I see."
He was standing in the doorway, grinning at her. "Can I wait in your office 'til you're done?"
She rolled her eyes and dropped down in her swivel chair, tapping the space bar on her laptop. The screensaver (goldfish swimming in a bowl) dissolved away. "As long as you don't drool all over the afghan."
"I'm house-trained," he declared proudly, bounding over to her couch and settling himself down on it.
"Good for you," she muttered absentmindedly, pulling up her e-mail to check for any last-minute instructions from Leo. "You know, you're in a good mood today." Her eyes flicked quickly down the list of new e-mails: spam, Josh, Dad, spam, Josh, Josh, Carol, spam, Josh...
Josh had started humming to himself as he looked idly around her office, and she glared up at him. "Went on a little e-mailing spree, Joshua?"
"It makes my friends feel popular, Claudia," he responded cheerily, and as she started to shoot venom at him from her eyes, he quickly added, "...Jean."
"Okay, so we've established that you're bored. Out of your skull. Don't you have any legitimate work to do?" Clicking on one of his e-mails, CJ groaned. "Instead of sending me chain letters?"
"They're not chain letters; I merely forwarded them as an expression of my deep affection for you and all the people I work with," he said defensively.
"I noticed Mandy isn't on that list."
He ignored her. "Besides, I'm all done today. All done. Donna said she'd call me the minute something lands in my inbox."
"Remind me to buy her lunch at some point."
"Why?" he asked, jumping to his feet and wandering over to her desk.
"For not committing first-degree murder. For putting up with you on a day like today, she should be rewarded. She should get the Nobel Peace Prize. Hell no, she should be made a saint." Just then, CJ remembered a rather unfortunate typo Toby had pointed out in one of the press releases, and she rifled through her papers, pencil in hand.
"For your information, Donna likes me and does not think I'm a pain, as you evidently do."
"Pain in the neck, pain in the ass, whatever you want to call it, Josh, you're it. Aha!" She crossed out the word 'falsies' and scrawled 'falsifies' in its place. Then she turned back to her laptop and clicked on Carol's e-mail.
"You know, you say I have a lot of time on my hands, but look at you."
CJ looked up at him, and arched an eyebrow. "I'm actually doing work here, Josh."
"Yeah, right now you are. But is your goldfish about to give a press conference that I didn't know about?" He pointed at the bowl, which was filled with red, blue and white sand. Gail was swimming breezily past a miniature lectern flanked by two American flags.
She opened her mouth and tried to think of something to say in response, but instead shrugged and returned to scanning Carol's e-mail. "I am done talking to you now."
"Not forever, I hope," he replied cheerfully. "You still have to answer my question. And you have to answer honestly."
"Honestly, Josh?" She quickly deleted the spam mails, took off her glasses and turned to stare at him again. "Honestly, I couldn't care less."
"You haven't even heard the question yet!" he protested.
"I already know my answer," she shot back, getting to her feet. "And to protect your delicate shell-like ears, I'm going to go before I tell you exactly what it is. There's a whole press corps waiting for me to enlighten them on all things connected with the Bartlet administration."
"You're really not going to tell me what you think?"
"Alright, I've got time for that." She scooped up her papers, and picked up her glasses. Then she smiled sweetly at him. "I think you should be shot. And I think I should be the one who pulls the trigger."
"Oh, that's great, that's real nice, CJ. Ever think of taking a job as a hitman for the Mafia?"
"I'm mulling it over - it would certainly pay better than what I'm doing right now," she called back, as she strode out of her office. "And it's not like I haven't had offers..."
"You're pretty frightening, you know that?"
"Thanks. I take pride in it."
He ran out after her, trying to match her long strides down the corridor towards the press room. "Okay, all joking aside, I know you're just dying to find out what I was going to ask you."
"Absolutely writhing in suspense."
"So even though you haven't really been polite to me all day, and you're basically just a really tall, really mean person, I'm going to ask it anyway."
She paused just outside the press room, and turned sharply on her heel. He almost ran right into her. "This had better be good, Josh," she told him warningly, "or you'll be spending the rest of your life hiding from my wrath in Timbaktu."
"Okay. Okay." He grinned at her, proudly, then cleared his throat. "You ready? Ready?"
"Josh..."
"How many angels do you think can fit on the head of a pin?"
If her eyes weren't screwed properly into her head, he could have sworn they would have fallen straight out of their sockets.
"Okay, Josh. Okay. Remember this. After I'm done here, you die. Okay? I will personally show you pain and bring you to the gates of Hell. Not necessarily in that order. So if you were planning to leave the country anytime soon, I'd say you'd better move your plans up to the next fifteen minutes."
She turned to walk into the press room, and he waited a few seconds before calling her back. "Hey, CJ?"
"Yeah?" She looked back at him.
"Aside from killing me horribly, you're done for the day, right? Do you have plans after this?"
She cocked her head to the side, then shook it. "No..."
"Wanna go bug Toby?"
The accompanying grin he flashed at her was irresistible.
Author:
ellixian
Characters: CJ, Josh (friendship)
Category: PG
Spoilers: None at all. This is probably set at some point in Season 1 though.
Summary: Josh is very, very bored indeed.
Concrit: Sure - hit me with it!
Disclaimer: I took CJ and Josh out for a couple of hours and we got totally smashed and it was lots of fun. But now I'm returning them to Aaron Sorkin - they're his creations, after all!
Originally posted: May 14, 2001 (in Yahoo!Groups, as 'gaityr') - look at me, writing in past tense and everything!
A/N: In honour of all the WW love that's been floating around lately - I promise I'm working on new House!fic, but right now, there's definitely a lot of nostalgia and love for old-school WW. When I first started out as a fan, I thought it would be impossible to write good WW fic. I'm not pretending to have done so here, because this is purely fluff and banter written for the sake of banter, but at least I had lots of fun doing it. Plus, CJ and Josh? I LOVE THEIR SNARK, more than is strictly healthy. Now if I can only unlock my decades-old laptop and unearth the CJ/Toby and Jed/Abbey fics I know I wrote back when my love for this show was so, so strong...
- - - - -
"Hey, CJ!" he called as he noticed her barreling down the hallway. "Minute of your time?"
She paused momentarily, eyes still trained on the sheaf of notes in her hand. "Let me think about that, Josh. Uhhhh..." She flipped a page, then looked up at him over the rims of her spectacles. "No."
"Oh come on, CJ!" he whined, chasing after her as she began to stride down the corridor again. "Just a minute."
"Josh, I really don't have time for this. I'm going over my notes for the briefing I have to give in about ten minutes." She was still reading and half-running at the same time, and Josh jogged along beside her, a bright-eyed puppy trying to get her attention.
"I just need to ask you a question, just one."
She checked her watch. "Nine minutes, Josh. I can't give you one."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued, "I've given you one before, and oddly enough, have always and without fail lived to regret it. If I gave you one now, and knowing the exact sort of inane question you're going to ask me, I'd end up telling the Washington Post that I don't have a proper answer to their question because I spent the other eight minutes of my prep time cleaning your blood off my shoes."
"I'm hurt, CJ," he responded blandly. "Wounded, in fact. What makes you think this isn't work-related?"
"I think the fact that you've been bouncing around Donna's desk for the past two hours is a pretty good indication that you're high on caffeine or sugar or something equally disturbingly artificial. That, and the fact that you're obviously bored."
"Donna's my assistant! I couldn't have been talking to her about work things?"
"Go away, Josh," she sighed, and pushed open the door to her office. Once at her desk, she picked up a pencil and started scribbling on one of the papers in her hand. "It's not 254, it's..." She looked up. "Still here, I see."
He was standing in the doorway, grinning at her. "Can I wait in your office 'til you're done?"
She rolled her eyes and dropped down in her swivel chair, tapping the space bar on her laptop. The screensaver (goldfish swimming in a bowl) dissolved away. "As long as you don't drool all over the afghan."
"I'm house-trained," he declared proudly, bounding over to her couch and settling himself down on it.
"Good for you," she muttered absentmindedly, pulling up her e-mail to check for any last-minute instructions from Leo. "You know, you're in a good mood today." Her eyes flicked quickly down the list of new e-mails: spam, Josh, Dad, spam, Josh, Josh, Carol, spam, Josh...
Josh had started humming to himself as he looked idly around her office, and she glared up at him. "Went on a little e-mailing spree, Joshua?"
"It makes my friends feel popular, Claudia," he responded cheerily, and as she started to shoot venom at him from her eyes, he quickly added, "...Jean."
"Okay, so we've established that you're bored. Out of your skull. Don't you have any legitimate work to do?" Clicking on one of his e-mails, CJ groaned. "Instead of sending me chain letters?"
"They're not chain letters; I merely forwarded them as an expression of my deep affection for you and all the people I work with," he said defensively.
"I noticed Mandy isn't on that list."
He ignored her. "Besides, I'm all done today. All done. Donna said she'd call me the minute something lands in my inbox."
"Remind me to buy her lunch at some point."
"Why?" he asked, jumping to his feet and wandering over to her desk.
"For not committing first-degree murder. For putting up with you on a day like today, she should be rewarded. She should get the Nobel Peace Prize. Hell no, she should be made a saint." Just then, CJ remembered a rather unfortunate typo Toby had pointed out in one of the press releases, and she rifled through her papers, pencil in hand.
"For your information, Donna likes me and does not think I'm a pain, as you evidently do."
"Pain in the neck, pain in the ass, whatever you want to call it, Josh, you're it. Aha!" She crossed out the word 'falsies' and scrawled 'falsifies' in its place. Then she turned back to her laptop and clicked on Carol's e-mail.
"You know, you say I have a lot of time on my hands, but look at you."
CJ looked up at him, and arched an eyebrow. "I'm actually doing work here, Josh."
"Yeah, right now you are. But is your goldfish about to give a press conference that I didn't know about?" He pointed at the bowl, which was filled with red, blue and white sand. Gail was swimming breezily past a miniature lectern flanked by two American flags.
She opened her mouth and tried to think of something to say in response, but instead shrugged and returned to scanning Carol's e-mail. "I am done talking to you now."
"Not forever, I hope," he replied cheerfully. "You still have to answer my question. And you have to answer honestly."
"Honestly, Josh?" She quickly deleted the spam mails, took off her glasses and turned to stare at him again. "Honestly, I couldn't care less."
"You haven't even heard the question yet!" he protested.
"I already know my answer," she shot back, getting to her feet. "And to protect your delicate shell-like ears, I'm going to go before I tell you exactly what it is. There's a whole press corps waiting for me to enlighten them on all things connected with the Bartlet administration."
"You're really not going to tell me what you think?"
"Alright, I've got time for that." She scooped up her papers, and picked up her glasses. Then she smiled sweetly at him. "I think you should be shot. And I think I should be the one who pulls the trigger."
"Oh, that's great, that's real nice, CJ. Ever think of taking a job as a hitman for the Mafia?"
"I'm mulling it over - it would certainly pay better than what I'm doing right now," she called back, as she strode out of her office. "And it's not like I haven't had offers..."
"You're pretty frightening, you know that?"
"Thanks. I take pride in it."
He ran out after her, trying to match her long strides down the corridor towards the press room. "Okay, all joking aside, I know you're just dying to find out what I was going to ask you."
"Absolutely writhing in suspense."
"So even though you haven't really been polite to me all day, and you're basically just a really tall, really mean person, I'm going to ask it anyway."
She paused just outside the press room, and turned sharply on her heel. He almost ran right into her. "This had better be good, Josh," she told him warningly, "or you'll be spending the rest of your life hiding from my wrath in Timbaktu."
"Okay. Okay." He grinned at her, proudly, then cleared his throat. "You ready? Ready?"
"Josh..."
"How many angels do you think can fit on the head of a pin?"
If her eyes weren't screwed properly into her head, he could have sworn they would have fallen straight out of their sockets.
"Okay, Josh. Okay. Remember this. After I'm done here, you die. Okay? I will personally show you pain and bring you to the gates of Hell. Not necessarily in that order. So if you were planning to leave the country anytime soon, I'd say you'd better move your plans up to the next fifteen minutes."
She turned to walk into the press room, and he waited a few seconds before calling her back. "Hey, CJ?"
"Yeah?" She looked back at him.
"Aside from killing me horribly, you're done for the day, right? Do you have plans after this?"
She cocked her head to the side, then shook it. "No..."
"Wanna go bug Toby?"
The accompanying grin he flashed at her was irresistible.