claudiajean's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a little bit blinding- WW Inside, Donna Moss was walking around, popping in and out of offices, opening blinds. When she opened the shutters in Toby’s office, a layer of dust flew up and he walked in as she sneezed for the third time. “Don’t you usually bug Josh?” he asked, walking to her desk, while she searched his office for tissues. “Yes.” she said, finding a box on the shelf, hidden behind a television and a coffee mug full of unsharpened pencils. The mug was from Kansas. “What’s in Kansas, Toby?” “Nothing.” he said without looking at her. She left to finish her chore of making the west wing sunnier. “Donna knows that the windows on the ground floor don’t actually open, right?” CJ said, walking in and folding onto Toby’s sofa. He didn’t respond, but slowly closed his lap top. “There is a glare.” “A glare.” “Yes. From the windows. Against my computer screen.” “How unfortunate.” CJ said, standing, deciding not to stay if the conversation was going to continue to be like this. She did, after all, have things to do. “I’m going to get lunch.” “I feel like French.” “I’m glad that you also feel you are invited.” he said, looking for his coat, and spotting it behind hands on hips. “Which you are.” “Good Toby. I feel like French.” He grumbled, because she knew he hated French, and he didn’t know why he was being punished. She chattered while they walked out, and he half listened, but when she asked him later to remember what she said, he was quiet. She ordered the orange duck. He was never very good a remembering phrases in French, he focused so much on English, that other languages got left behind. he ordered something chicken, and hated every bite. She was watching him, rather intently. She had been for most of the meal, but he hadn’t noticed until she was holding the dessert menu and looking above it. She said something. He couldn’t see her lips, so he asked her to repeat it. “I asked where you were today. I feel like I’m sitting her talking to myself.” she said, sipping her water with too much lemon juice squeezed into it. She made a face, like she forgot what it was going to taste like before every sip. It aggravated him for some reason. “I’m just busy. We should get back.” he gave the waitress his credit card when she walked by and CJ set down the dessert menu. “Toby? Is this about-” “No.” she didn’t say anything else, until he was finished signing a receipt and stood to go. “If you want to talk about it, you know, I’m here.” he looked at her with exasperation. “I’m just saying. So are you going to go?” “No.” he said, pushing the crosswalk button more times than necessary. “I’d go with you. So you don’t have to go alone.” she offered. “CJ, she invited me to be polite. She doesn’t actually want me there.” “Toby, we’re talking about Andi here. She was never one to do things because they were polite. It’s her wedding. You should go and be happy for her and get really, really drunk at the reception. Then tell the new husband about the first time you nailed his wife.” he looked at her with a newfound respect. “No.” he stopped outside the entrance to the west wing. “CJ?” “Yes?” “How do you even know about the wedding?” “I got invited too.” “Are you going whether I do or not?” the resumed walking. “I don’t know yet.” “CJ!” “Toby!” they looked at each other, and she reached out to squeeze his arm before they were pulled in 9 different directions, none of them together. Later that night, after Josh had made Donna go close all the blinds, and they stood arguing in the bullpen about natural light versus artificial, after, Sam had gone home laughing, after the president had left to the residence early because his wife was home for the first time in weeks, Toby came to CJ’s office. “We haven’t RSVP-ed. It’s in three days.” he said. She looked up and took off her glasses. “So you’re going?” “We’re going. I don’t want to go if you don’t.” he confirmed. She nodded thoughtfully. “Ok.” he turned to leave, to go home. “Toby?” “Yeah?” “I RSVP-ed us. Two weeks ago.” “I know. Goodnight.” “Night.” end 11:11 a.m. - 2001-08-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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