TWW FIC :: "Forever" [CJ/Ainsley, PG13]
Title: Forever
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Author's Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Pairing: CJ/Ainsley
Rating: PG13 [language]
Date: 4-7 October 2007
Word Count: 2000
Written for: two_of_us_fic Challenge 2007
Summary: Honesty really is the cornerstone of a successful relationship; a lesson that has to be learned over and over sometimes.
Sequel to: "Just Might Find" and "Room With A View"
Warning: Established lesbian couple. Don't like it? Don't read it.
Spoilers (if any): Post-series AU
Disclaimer: "The West Wing", the characters and situations depicted are the property of Warner Bros. Television, John Wells Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. This site is in no way affiliated with "The West Wing", NBC, or any representatives of Allison Janney or Emily Procter. This site contains stories between two mature, consenting adult females.
Prompt:
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
-- "Happiness Is A Warm Gun", The Beatles
Author's Notes: I wanted to write CJ/Ainsley for this challenge, just as I had last year. When I got my lyrics prompt, I got worried at the very masculine tone. It took me forever to try to figure out what I wanted to do, and then I got this idea just a few days ago, the day the stories were initially due, and I ran from there.
CJ and Ainsley are probably one of my more favorite pairings to write...and one of my more difficult ones, simply because of the language of their speech. But it always does my heart good to be able to pull off a story for them. This is only the third story for this couple, and I'm realizing just how much I want to write more for them...
Dedication: My muses, for never letting me down...
Many thanks to ctorres for getting me to write this pairing in the first damned place!
Beta: shatterpath, as usual
"Forever"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Standing in the doorway, I can't help but stare at my lover. She has her back to me while she methodically chops and dices vegetables for what appears to be... Okay, I'm not actually sure what she's planning to make. Other than a huge mess of decimated vegetables. Obviously, she's obsessed about something. Food has always been one of her primary sources of comfort. But when she starts reducing random food to basically mush, there's definitely something upsetting her.
Thinking back, nothing comes to mind as being any kind of issue to cause this extreme distress. A quick glance at the calendar confirms that I haven't missed an anniversary or a birthday recently. Maybe it's something work-related that's got her so upset.
"Hey, hon," I say brightly, making my presence known. She stiffens slightly, but continues to destroy the vegetables. "What's cooking, hot stuff?"
"Soup," is her only reply.
"Great! I love it when you make soup. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No thank you."
I come closer, setting my hand in the small of her back. "You sure, Ainsley?" I ask, trying to catch her eye. "I don't mind."
"Well, I do," she replies, shifting away from my touch.
Okay then... "Is something wrong?"
"Everything's fine."
"Okay, nothing's wrong. So... Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, CJ."
"You sure?" I ask, moving to touch her shoulder. "You don't sound okay, honey."
"I'm fine, CJ," she repeats, whirling around to face me. I manage to move just in time to miss the knife slicing through my stomach. "Why is it that you feel the need to press the issue when there's no issue? I said I'm fine, nothing's wrong, and I don't want your help. Can you not respect my wishes, CJ?"
I just stare at Ainsley for a long moment, completely stunned by how unhinged she's becoming as she continues to rant. She's waving the knife around as she goes, and I finally can't take it any longer. "You know what? I'm outta here. If you want to keep this to yourself, then fine. When you're ready to act like my lover, share in this relationship like we're supposed to, you know where I am."
Without waiting for her to reply, I turn around and head for the door. I honestly don't know if I care anymore what's upsetting her. I love Ainsley, but I won't stick around to be her verbal punching bag. If she wants to be a stubborn jackass, fine. She can call me when she's calmed down and ready to talk. I'm just about to the front door when I hear a strangled cry of my name from the kitchen. Without hesitation, I turn and sprint into the kitchen to find Ainsley clutching her hand, blood on the counter and her clothes.
"Ainsley!" I move to her side and grab for her hand, dragging her to the sink to clean up the blood. "What happened?"
She shakes her head, flinching at the cold water splashing across the cut slicing into her thumb. Noticing that the cut isn't nearly as deep as I'd feared initially, I let out the terrified breath I've been holding. Her cheeks are slick with tears, and she won't meet my gaze. I keep rinsing the wound until I'm sure it's cleaned out, then I grab the dishtowel to wrap around her hand.
"This is all your fault," she whispers, briefly meeting my gaze before her eyes drop back to her hand.
"How do you figure that?" I purposely keep my tone light, hoping to finally get at what's upset her. With a practiced ease, I lead her into the living room. Once we get settled on the couch, I carefully unwrap the towel from her hand to look at her thumb again.
"If you'd been honest with me, I wouldn't have gotten so upset." When she says it, I nod slowly, still not quite sure what she's talking about, and get up to find Band-Aids and Neosporin. "I know you have a long history with him, and I completely understand that, but I thought I meant something to you. And then all those phone calls, all the messages. I understand that there's a certain safety in a relationship with him. You always did have a soft spot for him, and let him get away with a lot of rather insubordinate behavior in the press room. I suppose I should have known that you'd still harbor some kind of feelings for him, even after you left the White House. But I thought I meant something to you, CJ. I thought we said we'd be honest with each other, no matter what."
I walk back into the living room to stare at her. "Ainsley, what in God's name are you talking about?"
"You and the affair you're having." She's beginning to wind up into another babbling rant. Great. "I mean, the messages alone are reason enough for me to suspect you're having an affair with him. Why else would he be calling so many times to get in touch with you, sounding more and more eager and earnest to see you, speak with you? I know what you're like in bed, CJ, so I can understand why he'd want to keep seeing you. What I don't understand is how you can possibly be so damned flippant about the fact that you're cheating on me. Is this really because I made you wait nearly six months after Jed Bartlet's funeral before I felt comfortable with my grief to start a relationship with you? It doesn't matter that we've spent the last two years together, that I've been completely and utterly devoted to you, no matter what. All that matters is that he's come calling for you and you fall prey to the siren's song of his presence. I mean, multiple calls a day, CJ? How desperate have you made him over the years?"
"What? Ainsley, who the hell are you talking about?"
"Dan--"
And I start to laugh. Hard enough that it bends me over double, and I wheeze, "I'm gonna kill him."
"CJ! How can you possibly find this even remotely amusing?" The more indignant she gets, the harder I laugh. "This isn't funny! This is a very serious situation. I don't get involved with people lightly, CJ. I don't give my heart away promiscuously. The fact that you're taking that and stomping on it by having an affair with a man, and that man in particular, is a complete travesty and a slap in the face to what I feel for you. I've decided this is unequivocally, exclusively, and egregiously your fault, Claudia Jean Cregg, and I expect you to fix it!"
The look on her face brings me up short. She's absolutely not smiling or joking at all. Not even a little bit. I force myself to take half a dozen deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. I can't fuck this up. It doesn't matter that I'm going to be killing a certain reporter I know. If I lose Ainsley over this, I'm done. And if that happens, Danny Concannon truly is a dead man. I make my way back to the couch, setting the first aid supplies on the coffee table. I take a moment or two to cover her wound. At least I learned enough from Abbey Bartlet to know that Ainsley won't need any stitches. The cut stopped bleeding fairly quickly and already appears to be trying to close up. Once she's fixed up, I don't have any further distractions from this situation.
"Ainsley, I'm..." I sigh heavily, pinching at the bridge of my nose. "Why didn't you give me the messages from Danny? What on earth could possibly have given you the idea that I'm having an affair with him just because he's calling me a lot? I'll have you know that I've been playing phone tag with him for the past three weeks on a project he's working on. With Santos running for re-election, he wants to do an article on where all of us that worked with the Bartlet Administration are. He wants to focus on me, simply because I'm the first woman to go from Press Secretary to Chief of Staff, particularly because the former Chief of Staff was running for election as Vice President and then died, as you well remember. You've even said that I went from the most visible woman in American politics to the most powerful with one fell swoop. That is what he's been trying to contact me about."
"Oh," she says in a soft voice, not meeting my gaze. "CJ, I--"
"And why the hell would you think I'm having an affair with Danny? Do you remember how head over heels I am for you, Ainsley? I would never willingly do anything to jeopardize that." She gets up and heads into the kitchen; I'm hot on her heels, not willing to let her off the hook this easily. Not after what she just put me through. "Don't run away, Ainsley. You were willing to get into this when I was the one in the hot seat. Doesn't feel so good, does it?" When she doesn't answer right away, I continue. "Ainsley, why didn't you tell me about Danny's messages?"
I'm unable to help myself from feeling the pang of hurt at how rigidly she's holding herself. Despite the extent of her misunderstandings, I still love her and don't want to see her suffering. She works slowly at cleaning up the decimated vegetation. "I didn't want to face the thought of you leaving me," she finally admits. I can hear the tears in her voice. "I know about your history with Danny Concannon, and I got worried."
"And you couldn't talk to me about it?" Before I realize it, I've got her trapped between the counter and my body. "I would never cheat on you, Ainsley. If I'm ever tempted, you will be the first person I talk to, no questions asked. You mean more to me than some random dalliance I could have. I don't come home to them; I come home to you. It's your picture that sits on my desk, not his."
She presses her face against my chest, and I can feel the tears seeping into my shirt. "But why would he call you here? He kept saying he missed y-- Your phone tag," she says in an embarrassed tone. "He was calling you back here, thinking he would catch you."
"That would be my guess. And I'll bet he got this number from that idiot of a temporary assistant I got rid of two weeks ago. She couldn't keep my schedule straight to save her soul. I'll call Danny tomorrow and make sure he has my cell number to call me."
"I'm sorry, CJ," she murmurs raggedly, resisting when I curl a finger under her chin in an attempt to catch her gaze.
"Look at me, Ainsley," I whisper huskily, feeling my own tears stinging in the backs of my eyes. "I'm not mad at you. I'm tempted to kick your ass for not coming to me with this fear, but I'm not mad at you, not any more."
She raises watery green eyes to meet mine. "But you were."
"Well, yeah, and you were mad at me. I think we're even now, don't you?" I ask in a gentle tone, almost teasing. "Or did you want to fight some more?" It's enough to get a brief smile out of her. "Maybe throw some of this vegetable mush at me? Or we can go hit up the paint ball park? Kick each other's asses?" She shakes her head, leaning back into my embrace again. "What'll it take to get past this, Ainsley? Just how long will I have to say that I love you and never want to live my life without you before you believe me?"
"Forever."
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Author's Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Pairing: CJ/Ainsley
Rating: PG13 [language]
Date: 4-7 October 2007
Word Count: 2000
Written for: two_of_us_fic Challenge 2007
Summary: Honesty really is the cornerstone of a successful relationship; a lesson that has to be learned over and over sometimes.
Sequel to: "Just Might Find" and "Room With A View"
Warning: Established lesbian couple. Don't like it? Don't read it.
Spoilers (if any): Post-series AU
Disclaimer: "The West Wing", the characters and situations depicted are the property of Warner Bros. Television, John Wells Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. This site is in no way affiliated with "The West Wing", NBC, or any representatives of Allison Janney or Emily Procter. This site contains stories between two mature, consenting adult females.
Prompt:
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
-- "Happiness Is A Warm Gun", The Beatles
Author's Notes: I wanted to write CJ/Ainsley for this challenge, just as I had last year. When I got my lyrics prompt, I got worried at the very masculine tone. It took me forever to try to figure out what I wanted to do, and then I got this idea just a few days ago, the day the stories were initially due, and I ran from there.
CJ and Ainsley are probably one of my more favorite pairings to write...and one of my more difficult ones, simply because of the language of their speech. But it always does my heart good to be able to pull off a story for them. This is only the third story for this couple, and I'm realizing just how much I want to write more for them...
Dedication: My muses, for never letting me down...
Many thanks to ctorres for getting me to write this pairing in the first damned place!
Beta: shatterpath, as usual
"Forever"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Standing in the doorway, I can't help but stare at my lover. She has her back to me while she methodically chops and dices vegetables for what appears to be... Okay, I'm not actually sure what she's planning to make. Other than a huge mess of decimated vegetables. Obviously, she's obsessed about something. Food has always been one of her primary sources of comfort. But when she starts reducing random food to basically mush, there's definitely something upsetting her.
Thinking back, nothing comes to mind as being any kind of issue to cause this extreme distress. A quick glance at the calendar confirms that I haven't missed an anniversary or a birthday recently. Maybe it's something work-related that's got her so upset.
"Hey, hon," I say brightly, making my presence known. She stiffens slightly, but continues to destroy the vegetables. "What's cooking, hot stuff?"
"Soup," is her only reply.
"Great! I love it when you make soup. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No thank you."
I come closer, setting my hand in the small of her back. "You sure, Ainsley?" I ask, trying to catch her eye. "I don't mind."
"Well, I do," she replies, shifting away from my touch.
Okay then... "Is something wrong?"
"Everything's fine."
"Okay, nothing's wrong. So... Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, CJ."
"You sure?" I ask, moving to touch her shoulder. "You don't sound okay, honey."
"I'm fine, CJ," she repeats, whirling around to face me. I manage to move just in time to miss the knife slicing through my stomach. "Why is it that you feel the need to press the issue when there's no issue? I said I'm fine, nothing's wrong, and I don't want your help. Can you not respect my wishes, CJ?"
I just stare at Ainsley for a long moment, completely stunned by how unhinged she's becoming as she continues to rant. She's waving the knife around as she goes, and I finally can't take it any longer. "You know what? I'm outta here. If you want to keep this to yourself, then fine. When you're ready to act like my lover, share in this relationship like we're supposed to, you know where I am."
Without waiting for her to reply, I turn around and head for the door. I honestly don't know if I care anymore what's upsetting her. I love Ainsley, but I won't stick around to be her verbal punching bag. If she wants to be a stubborn jackass, fine. She can call me when she's calmed down and ready to talk. I'm just about to the front door when I hear a strangled cry of my name from the kitchen. Without hesitation, I turn and sprint into the kitchen to find Ainsley clutching her hand, blood on the counter and her clothes.
"Ainsley!" I move to her side and grab for her hand, dragging her to the sink to clean up the blood. "What happened?"
She shakes her head, flinching at the cold water splashing across the cut slicing into her thumb. Noticing that the cut isn't nearly as deep as I'd feared initially, I let out the terrified breath I've been holding. Her cheeks are slick with tears, and she won't meet my gaze. I keep rinsing the wound until I'm sure it's cleaned out, then I grab the dishtowel to wrap around her hand.
"This is all your fault," she whispers, briefly meeting my gaze before her eyes drop back to her hand.
"How do you figure that?" I purposely keep my tone light, hoping to finally get at what's upset her. With a practiced ease, I lead her into the living room. Once we get settled on the couch, I carefully unwrap the towel from her hand to look at her thumb again.
"If you'd been honest with me, I wouldn't have gotten so upset." When she says it, I nod slowly, still not quite sure what she's talking about, and get up to find Band-Aids and Neosporin. "I know you have a long history with him, and I completely understand that, but I thought I meant something to you. And then all those phone calls, all the messages. I understand that there's a certain safety in a relationship with him. You always did have a soft spot for him, and let him get away with a lot of rather insubordinate behavior in the press room. I suppose I should have known that you'd still harbor some kind of feelings for him, even after you left the White House. But I thought I meant something to you, CJ. I thought we said we'd be honest with each other, no matter what."
I walk back into the living room to stare at her. "Ainsley, what in God's name are you talking about?"
"You and the affair you're having." She's beginning to wind up into another babbling rant. Great. "I mean, the messages alone are reason enough for me to suspect you're having an affair with him. Why else would he be calling so many times to get in touch with you, sounding more and more eager and earnest to see you, speak with you? I know what you're like in bed, CJ, so I can understand why he'd want to keep seeing you. What I don't understand is how you can possibly be so damned flippant about the fact that you're cheating on me. Is this really because I made you wait nearly six months after Jed Bartlet's funeral before I felt comfortable with my grief to start a relationship with you? It doesn't matter that we've spent the last two years together, that I've been completely and utterly devoted to you, no matter what. All that matters is that he's come calling for you and you fall prey to the siren's song of his presence. I mean, multiple calls a day, CJ? How desperate have you made him over the years?"
"What? Ainsley, who the hell are you talking about?"
"Dan--"
And I start to laugh. Hard enough that it bends me over double, and I wheeze, "I'm gonna kill him."
"CJ! How can you possibly find this even remotely amusing?" The more indignant she gets, the harder I laugh. "This isn't funny! This is a very serious situation. I don't get involved with people lightly, CJ. I don't give my heart away promiscuously. The fact that you're taking that and stomping on it by having an affair with a man, and that man in particular, is a complete travesty and a slap in the face to what I feel for you. I've decided this is unequivocally, exclusively, and egregiously your fault, Claudia Jean Cregg, and I expect you to fix it!"
The look on her face brings me up short. She's absolutely not smiling or joking at all. Not even a little bit. I force myself to take half a dozen deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. I can't fuck this up. It doesn't matter that I'm going to be killing a certain reporter I know. If I lose Ainsley over this, I'm done. And if that happens, Danny Concannon truly is a dead man. I make my way back to the couch, setting the first aid supplies on the coffee table. I take a moment or two to cover her wound. At least I learned enough from Abbey Bartlet to know that Ainsley won't need any stitches. The cut stopped bleeding fairly quickly and already appears to be trying to close up. Once she's fixed up, I don't have any further distractions from this situation.
"Ainsley, I'm..." I sigh heavily, pinching at the bridge of my nose. "Why didn't you give me the messages from Danny? What on earth could possibly have given you the idea that I'm having an affair with him just because he's calling me a lot? I'll have you know that I've been playing phone tag with him for the past three weeks on a project he's working on. With Santos running for re-election, he wants to do an article on where all of us that worked with the Bartlet Administration are. He wants to focus on me, simply because I'm the first woman to go from Press Secretary to Chief of Staff, particularly because the former Chief of Staff was running for election as Vice President and then died, as you well remember. You've even said that I went from the most visible woman in American politics to the most powerful with one fell swoop. That is what he's been trying to contact me about."
"Oh," she says in a soft voice, not meeting my gaze. "CJ, I--"
"And why the hell would you think I'm having an affair with Danny? Do you remember how head over heels I am for you, Ainsley? I would never willingly do anything to jeopardize that." She gets up and heads into the kitchen; I'm hot on her heels, not willing to let her off the hook this easily. Not after what she just put me through. "Don't run away, Ainsley. You were willing to get into this when I was the one in the hot seat. Doesn't feel so good, does it?" When she doesn't answer right away, I continue. "Ainsley, why didn't you tell me about Danny's messages?"
I'm unable to help myself from feeling the pang of hurt at how rigidly she's holding herself. Despite the extent of her misunderstandings, I still love her and don't want to see her suffering. She works slowly at cleaning up the decimated vegetation. "I didn't want to face the thought of you leaving me," she finally admits. I can hear the tears in her voice. "I know about your history with Danny Concannon, and I got worried."
"And you couldn't talk to me about it?" Before I realize it, I've got her trapped between the counter and my body. "I would never cheat on you, Ainsley. If I'm ever tempted, you will be the first person I talk to, no questions asked. You mean more to me than some random dalliance I could have. I don't come home to them; I come home to you. It's your picture that sits on my desk, not his."
She presses her face against my chest, and I can feel the tears seeping into my shirt. "But why would he call you here? He kept saying he missed y-- Your phone tag," she says in an embarrassed tone. "He was calling you back here, thinking he would catch you."
"That would be my guess. And I'll bet he got this number from that idiot of a temporary assistant I got rid of two weeks ago. She couldn't keep my schedule straight to save her soul. I'll call Danny tomorrow and make sure he has my cell number to call me."
"I'm sorry, CJ," she murmurs raggedly, resisting when I curl a finger under her chin in an attempt to catch her gaze.
"Look at me, Ainsley," I whisper huskily, feeling my own tears stinging in the backs of my eyes. "I'm not mad at you. I'm tempted to kick your ass for not coming to me with this fear, but I'm not mad at you, not any more."
She raises watery green eyes to meet mine. "But you were."
"Well, yeah, and you were mad at me. I think we're even now, don't you?" I ask in a gentle tone, almost teasing. "Or did you want to fight some more?" It's enough to get a brief smile out of her. "Maybe throw some of this vegetable mush at me? Or we can go hit up the paint ball park? Kick each other's asses?" She shakes her head, leaning back into my embrace again. "What'll it take to get past this, Ainsley? Just how long will I have to say that I love you and never want to live my life without you before you believe me?"
"Forever."