Title: A Tale Of Love And Darkness: Mitchell L. Gainesborough
Summary: “We’re here to congratulate you." Josh and CJ are love, basically.
Notes: written for </a></b></a>![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
roga for the </a></b></a>![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
purimgifts ficathon. Mitchell L. Gainesborough is, in fact, an invention of mine.
A Tale Of Love And Darkness: Mitchell L. Gainsborough
“What are you two up to?“ CJ asked suspiciously as she entered her office after the final briefing of the day. Josh was sitting on her desk, happily munching on a handful of the ever-present package of cheese-and-onion Goldfish on her desk, while Toby was sitting on the couch, looking doleful as usual.
“We’re here to congratulate you,” Josh grinned, reaching behind his back to produce a bottle of Prosecco, which CJ had no trouble recognizing as part of the gift bag from the President’s recent trip to Venice for the G8 summit.
“For what?” She asked, suspiciously.
“For still being here,” Toby supplied, in a bored voice. “It was Josh’s idea.”
CJ gave Josh a pointed look. “Explain.”
“You,” Josh continued, still grinning, “have lasted longer in your job than Mitchell L. Gainsborough, the shortest person to ever hold the job of White House press secretary.”
“I don’t…”
“He was a spokesperson for Eisenhower, and he only lasted from the Inauguration to March 4th, 1953, which, of course, is today,” Josh explained. “So see? If you get fired tomorrow, you won’t be…”
“Oh go to hell, both of you!” CJ exclaimed.
“I told you she wouldn’t think it was funny,” Toby commented, rising quickly.
“CJ…” Josh pleaded, but scattered at the look on her face.
“Joshua!” His dimpled face reappeared in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Leave the booze.” Josh, clearly not wanting to brave entry into her office, hastened to place the green bottle onto the floor and fled for cover. Despite herself, CJ smiled.
Hours later, a knock on her door brought CJ back from the daze she’d fallen into when revising a press release about fishing subsidies had failed to grasp her attention. “Yeah?”
“Hi,” Josh muttered, looking genuinely contrite. “You still here?”
“As long as cod’s caught, apparently,” CJ shrugged. “Fishing subsidies,” she explained, at the blank look on his face. “Though I suppose there are better fish-related jokes out there.” Josh was still just looking at her. “Joshua?” She prodded, gently.
“I wanted to…” He sighed, heavily. “I’m sorry about the thing.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re sorry?”
“I am.”
“About the thing?”
“Yes.”
CJ shook her head. “Go away.”
“CJ!”
“I mean it. Go away before I throw something at you.”
Josh’s shoulders sagged as he turned to retreat.
Five minutes later, he was back. “Josh, I-“ CJ warned, but he steamrolled over her: “I’m sorry you didn’t think what we did this morning was funny; we wanted to do something nice for you, because you span the thing about the unemployment figures so well, and the thing about Mitchell Gainsborough is actually true and I thought that was a nice lead into how much we appreciate you and I’m sorry you didn’t feel that way.” He looked up, fearful. “Are you still pissed?”
CJ was beaming. “I wasn’t, really. Only a little.”
‘”But we’re good.”
CJ nodded. “Mitchell L. Gainsborough, huh?”
“We’d never,” Josh assured. “Nobody can do what you do.”
CJ laughed, wryly. “Which is what?”
“You know.” Josh coloured slightly. “Flirt.”
“Excuse me?”
“With the press,” Josh hastened to explain. “You do that thing, with the laughing and the coy answers and…” He shrugged. “They love you.”
CJ blushed. “They do not.”
“Oh, believe me,” Josh laughed. “I had a beer with Danny Concannon on Saturday and he-“
CJ’s blush intensified. “That’s just Danny,” she muttered. “He gets under my skin for fun.”
“Not just fun, I think,” Josh smirked. “You headed home?”
“Soon,” CJ shrugged. “I suppose I need to deal with Flounder and Sebastian first, though.”
“We need to work on your repertoire of fish jokes,” Josh laughed.
“Josh?” He was already halfway out the doorway when she called his name. “Why today?”
“What?”
“We survived the unemployment thing like a week ago. Why be nice to me today?”
Josh looked at his feet. “No reason.”
“Josh.”
“CJ, really, there’s no-“
“Joshua.“
“It’s Purim,” Josh burst out, despite himself. “It’s Purim, and that used to be my sister’s favourite holiday and I always did something nice for her, and now she’s dead and you remind me of her, a lot, and I just-“ He took a deep, gasping breath. CJ wordlessly got out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him. Josh let her, burying his face in her shoulder for just a second.
“That,” CJ whispered, “is the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
Josh smiled, a little wobbly but still, a recognizable smile. “Thanks.”
“C’mon,” CJ told him, reaching for the bottle of Prosecco on her desk. “Let fish be fish, this calls for celebration.”
With a growing smile, Josh followed her out of her office.
Summary: “We’re here to congratulate you." Josh and CJ are love, basically.
Notes: written for </a></b></a>
roga for the </a></b></a>purimgifts ficathon. Mitchell L. Gainesborough is, in fact, an invention of mine. A Tale Of Love And Darkness: Mitchell L. Gainsborough
“What are you two up to?“ CJ asked suspiciously as she entered her office after the final briefing of the day. Josh was sitting on her desk, happily munching on a handful of the ever-present package of cheese-and-onion Goldfish on her desk, while Toby was sitting on the couch, looking doleful as usual.
“We’re here to congratulate you,” Josh grinned, reaching behind his back to produce a bottle of Prosecco, which CJ had no trouble recognizing as part of the gift bag from the President’s recent trip to Venice for the G8 summit.
“For what?” She asked, suspiciously.
“For still being here,” Toby supplied, in a bored voice. “It was Josh’s idea.”
CJ gave Josh a pointed look. “Explain.”
“You,” Josh continued, still grinning, “have lasted longer in your job than Mitchell L. Gainsborough, the shortest person to ever hold the job of White House press secretary.”
“I don’t…”
“He was a spokesperson for Eisenhower, and he only lasted from the Inauguration to March 4th, 1953, which, of course, is today,” Josh explained. “So see? If you get fired tomorrow, you won’t be…”
“Oh go to hell, both of you!” CJ exclaimed.
“I told you she wouldn’t think it was funny,” Toby commented, rising quickly.
“CJ…” Josh pleaded, but scattered at the look on her face.
“Joshua!” His dimpled face reappeared in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Leave the booze.” Josh, clearly not wanting to brave entry into her office, hastened to place the green bottle onto the floor and fled for cover. Despite herself, CJ smiled.
Hours later, a knock on her door brought CJ back from the daze she’d fallen into when revising a press release about fishing subsidies had failed to grasp her attention. “Yeah?”
“Hi,” Josh muttered, looking genuinely contrite. “You still here?”
“As long as cod’s caught, apparently,” CJ shrugged. “Fishing subsidies,” she explained, at the blank look on his face. “Though I suppose there are better fish-related jokes out there.” Josh was still just looking at her. “Joshua?” She prodded, gently.
“I wanted to…” He sighed, heavily. “I’m sorry about the thing.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re sorry?”
“I am.”
“About the thing?”
“Yes.”
CJ shook her head. “Go away.”
“CJ!”
“I mean it. Go away before I throw something at you.”
Josh’s shoulders sagged as he turned to retreat.
Five minutes later, he was back. “Josh, I-“ CJ warned, but he steamrolled over her: “I’m sorry you didn’t think what we did this morning was funny; we wanted to do something nice for you, because you span the thing about the unemployment figures so well, and the thing about Mitchell Gainsborough is actually true and I thought that was a nice lead into how much we appreciate you and I’m sorry you didn’t feel that way.” He looked up, fearful. “Are you still pissed?”
CJ was beaming. “I wasn’t, really. Only a little.”
‘”But we’re good.”
CJ nodded. “Mitchell L. Gainsborough, huh?”
“We’d never,” Josh assured. “Nobody can do what you do.”
CJ laughed, wryly. “Which is what?”
“You know.” Josh coloured slightly. “Flirt.”
“Excuse me?”
“With the press,” Josh hastened to explain. “You do that thing, with the laughing and the coy answers and…” He shrugged. “They love you.”
CJ blushed. “They do not.”
“Oh, believe me,” Josh laughed. “I had a beer with Danny Concannon on Saturday and he-“
CJ’s blush intensified. “That’s just Danny,” she muttered. “He gets under my skin for fun.”
“Not just fun, I think,” Josh smirked. “You headed home?”
“Soon,” CJ shrugged. “I suppose I need to deal with Flounder and Sebastian first, though.”
“We need to work on your repertoire of fish jokes,” Josh laughed.
“Josh?” He was already halfway out the doorway when she called his name. “Why today?”
“What?”
“We survived the unemployment thing like a week ago. Why be nice to me today?”
Josh looked at his feet. “No reason.”
“Josh.”
“CJ, really, there’s no-“
“Joshua.“
“It’s Purim,” Josh burst out, despite himself. “It’s Purim, and that used to be my sister’s favourite holiday and I always did something nice for her, and now she’s dead and you remind me of her, a lot, and I just-“ He took a deep, gasping breath. CJ wordlessly got out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him. Josh let her, burying his face in her shoulder for just a second.
“That,” CJ whispered, “is the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
Josh smiled, a little wobbly but still, a recognizable smile. “Thanks.”
“C’mon,” CJ told him, reaching for the bottle of Prosecco on her desk. “Let fish be fish, this calls for celebration.”
With a growing smile, Josh followed her out of her office.
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