For the Toby Round. So late am I.
I am so sorry it's late, but here it be. And, because the other one I'm late with will be done by the end of the day, I am off to submit an entry request for the Will round :-)
Tomorrow
By: vegawriters
Characters: Toby & Sam
For: kangeiko who wanted: Toby paired with Josh OR Sam OR CJ OR Jed OR... a grammatical disagreement (yes, I'm that difficult!), a missed deadline, lots of coffee... (see how they all link together? Who didn’t want: sex, (although flirting was actively encouraged!), and not post-s4. with a rating of pg-13. See how I love a challenge? J
A/N: Many apologies for this being so late. I hope it’s worth the wait.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 533
Spoilers: Up to The California 47th, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. But, I like to play with them for free.
Summary: In public, Toby glowered and stormed and drank too much coffee and even Ginger and CJ kept their distance. In private, he cried.
Toby would never admit his love for Sam to anyone but himself. If you pressed about why he was so upset over Sam’s leaving, he’d glare at you and remind you that there were approximately five people who wrote well enough to write for Jed Bartlet and he was losing one of them to a campaign in California that was sure to crash and burn. He wouldn’t say that he was going to miss the late nights when they were the only two left in the communications bullpen. He wouldn’t tell you that the President’s voice was really Sam’s voice and that he thought every politician in the world needed to speak with the optimistic attitude with which Sam approached the world.
In public, Toby glowered and stormed around and drank too much coffee and even Ginger and CJ kept their distance. In private, he cried.
He didn’t cry for a love lost. Sam wasn’t his type, not really. Sam was too young and too vibrant and too full of hope for Toby to really fall in love with him. But, he worshipped the idealism that came from growing up along the Pacific Coast. Maybe there was something, after all, to the California mystique. Toby dreamed, always, of becoming a man he was not and Sam was the prefect idol. Sam was beautiful and classy and the best writer Toby had ever read.
Tomorrow, Sam would be gone for good. Tomorrow, his office would be officially empty. Tomorrow Toby would pretend that they weren’t mere weeks away from the State of the Union or that the speech that the President was giving in three days to the representatives from Catholic Charities wasn’t even drafted. Tomorrow he’d have to concentrate and do it without Sam.
Tonight, he’d cry into his beer.
He’d cry because tomorrow, he couldn’t storm into Sam’s office and demand that the semi-colon in paragraph three be changed to a colon or that the wording at the end was far too passive. Tomorrow, he’d pace and toss his pink rubber balls into the air and try to create the imagery that only Sam knew how to craft. Sam had forgotten about the speech - who could blame him. But Sam forgetting let Toby hate him. The speech was right up Sam’s alley. It was bright and youthful and full of the hope Toby had lost before he was out of elementary school.
Tomorrow he was on his own.
Tonight, Toby had to leave. His office walls were too confining and it wasn’t any fun to be the last one left in the bullpen.
But he wasn’t alone.
He looked up and there was Sam, leaning in the doorway, a half smile on his perfect lips, and a cup of coffee in his hand.
“I have a speech to finish.” Toby turned from the other man, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Yeah, the one I was supposed to write.”
“Don’t you have to pack?”
“It can wait.” Sam stepped into the office. “After all, it was my assignment anyway.”
Tonight, Toby realized, he could let his love linger over bad coffee and grammatical arguments.
Tomorrow, he could cry into his beer.
Tomorrow
By: vegawriters
Characters: Toby & Sam
For: kangeiko who wanted: Toby paired with Josh OR Sam OR CJ OR Jed OR... a grammatical disagreement (yes, I'm that difficult!), a missed deadline, lots of coffee... (see how they all link together? Who didn’t want: sex, (although flirting was actively encouraged!), and not post-s4. with a rating of pg-13. See how I love a challenge? J
A/N: Many apologies for this being so late. I hope it’s worth the wait.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 533
Spoilers: Up to The California 47th, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. But, I like to play with them for free.
Summary: In public, Toby glowered and stormed and drank too much coffee and even Ginger and CJ kept their distance. In private, he cried.
Toby would never admit his love for Sam to anyone but himself. If you pressed about why he was so upset over Sam’s leaving, he’d glare at you and remind you that there were approximately five people who wrote well enough to write for Jed Bartlet and he was losing one of them to a campaign in California that was sure to crash and burn. He wouldn’t say that he was going to miss the late nights when they were the only two left in the communications bullpen. He wouldn’t tell you that the President’s voice was really Sam’s voice and that he thought every politician in the world needed to speak with the optimistic attitude with which Sam approached the world.
In public, Toby glowered and stormed around and drank too much coffee and even Ginger and CJ kept their distance. In private, he cried.
He didn’t cry for a love lost. Sam wasn’t his type, not really. Sam was too young and too vibrant and too full of hope for Toby to really fall in love with him. But, he worshipped the idealism that came from growing up along the Pacific Coast. Maybe there was something, after all, to the California mystique. Toby dreamed, always, of becoming a man he was not and Sam was the prefect idol. Sam was beautiful and classy and the best writer Toby had ever read.
Tomorrow, Sam would be gone for good. Tomorrow, his office would be officially empty. Tomorrow Toby would pretend that they weren’t mere weeks away from the State of the Union or that the speech that the President was giving in three days to the representatives from Catholic Charities wasn’t even drafted. Tomorrow he’d have to concentrate and do it without Sam.
Tonight, he’d cry into his beer.
He’d cry because tomorrow, he couldn’t storm into Sam’s office and demand that the semi-colon in paragraph three be changed to a colon or that the wording at the end was far too passive. Tomorrow, he’d pace and toss his pink rubber balls into the air and try to create the imagery that only Sam knew how to craft. Sam had forgotten about the speech - who could blame him. But Sam forgetting let Toby hate him. The speech was right up Sam’s alley. It was bright and youthful and full of the hope Toby had lost before he was out of elementary school.
Tomorrow he was on his own.
Tonight, Toby had to leave. His office walls were too confining and it wasn’t any fun to be the last one left in the bullpen.
But he wasn’t alone.
He looked up and there was Sam, leaning in the doorway, a half smile on his perfect lips, and a cup of coffee in his hand.
“I have a speech to finish.” Toby turned from the other man, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Yeah, the one I was supposed to write.”
“Don’t you have to pack?”
“It can wait.” Sam stepped into the office. “After all, it was my assignment anyway.”
Tonight, Toby realized, he could let his love linger over bad coffee and grammatical arguments.
Tomorrow, he could cry into his beer.