Life’s Little Whirlwinds
By Cappuccino Girl
Genre: CJ/Sam. Angst. Drama.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All this time, and they still don’t belong to me.
Notes: You know, I still can’t quite comprehend the fact that this is it.
I’ve written this series, a series which has become such an incredible
part of me, and it’s so difficult to write those magic words ‘The
End’, as I don’t want to leave it behind. The situation and characters
might return in a continuing series if I get enough requests, and feel inspired,
but for now it’s complete.
Thanks: My beta readers, how fabulous are you? I can’t thank you enough.
You have made this creative journey what it is, and I owe you, big-time! The
Readers, your feedback is what has kept me motivated when I had writer’s
block and didn’t know where to go. It is wonderful and appreciated more
than you can probably imagine.
Summary: I somehow told a large group of the senior staff about our relationship,
which I know was your worst nightmare incarnate, yet here we are again, and
all you want is to get me horizontal.
She’s going down, down the escalator and back to reality. Confrontations
with colleagues. Outsmarting the press. The familiar rat race within the White
House. She can see the conveyor belts of the baggage claim, praying that her
suitcase will be there soon as this is the part she hates most about flying
with a commercial airline. She had been too exhausted to organise anything before
she left, even for personal convenience, and now she must wait when she wishes
she’d been at home ten hours ago.
“Hey there, beautiful.” A familiar voice fills her ears. Other noises
cease and all she hears are those gorgeous words, and when she lifts her head
and steps away from the escalator, he is standing there before her. Without
uttering a word, she wraps her arms around him, kissing him softly on the mouth.
Longing to display her feelings with more than heartfelt phrases, she still
shows restraint, for she knows the airport is as public as a location can be.
“I can’t believe you came to- You came to pick me up,” she says,
in awe of the simple gesture which means the world.
He strokes his fingers over her hand before taking it, and walking with her
towards the baggage claim. “Isn’t that what couples should do?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never been good with ‘shoulds’
and ‘shouldn’ts’.” She smiles as they hold hands, waiting
for her luggage, she realises that his presence is bliss, like that first sip
of coffee in the morning.
“I know,” he murmors before going to grab the bags he recognises from
her living room a week ago.
They wander to his car together. He’s carrying two bags, and she’s
wheeling her suitcase, as she insisted on taking something herself. When they
reach his silver BMW at the far corner of the parking garage, he sets the bags
down and fumbles around for the keys. She slips her hands into his coat pocket,
grasping his hand, preventing the search, and it’s just the two of them
standing face to face.
She sighs, and gazes deeply into his eyes. “Sam, I... I feel- I’m
so sorry, sorry for the hurt, and the yelling, and all the other shitty things
I did. It’s just... I’m so scared that something outside my control
might cause me to lose you that I put up all these guard rails, but some how
I go and fuck things up myself, and I-”
“Claudia,” he whispers. “I know. I know your fears, and your
interminable professionalism. Some things you never have to explain. I always
know the meaning.”
“Oh God, Sam, I’ve been such an asshole.” She buries her face
in his shoulder, her tears dampening his coat.
Rather than agreeing like she thinks he should, he just strokes her hair and
replies softly, “I wish you wouldn’t cry. You’re so pretty when
you smile.”
~* *~
She sighs heavily, letting her bags thud onto the living room floor, then kneeling
down to pet her cat, which has been weaving around her legs, meowing demandingly.
Once Sam has closed the door, he adds the black suitcase to the pile and discards
his coat. She stands up, kicks off her shoes and saunters towards him, and he
can feel his breath quicken at her approach. Her eyes sparkle for the first
time in weeks, and it takes every last inch of his control not to drag her into
the bedroom and never get up again.
“CJ,” he says firmly.
“What? What, what, what?” she purrs, showering him with kisses, her
hands on his ass.
He pulls back. “Look, I think we need to talk first.”
“Oh, I’m good at talk, Samuel.”
“Yes, I know, but we really need to discuss things.” He attempts to
lead her to the couch, doing his best not to trip over the bags on the floor.
“Such as?” she questions, voice sultry.
“Less than ten days ago you stormed out of here, cursing me, and then I
somehow told a large group of the senior staff about our relationship, which
I know was your worst nightmare incarnate, yet here we are again, and all you
want is to get me horizontal.”
Her expression changes and she sinks into the sofa, patting the space beside
her. He joins her, and she leans into him, savoring their closeness.
“We can’t go on like this, Claudia, constant fighting and making up.
We can’t, and I won’t.” He turns her face towards him so he can
observe her reaction.
Turning slightly so her back is against one of the armrests, she replies, “I
think this can work, you and me. I mean, the main tension factor is gone now
that you’ve told Leo.”
“Is it? Is it really gone?”
She moves her feet up onto the couch and wraps her arms around her legs, almost
rocking. “Yes.”
“And should the press find out, what then? Will I have you breaking emotionally,
letting all your frustrations out on me again? You have to understand me here;
we’ve been walking on some pretty thin ice these past few weeks.”
His eyes are honest, and she can see the hurt in his face, yet she feels pain
in her own chest.
“It’s not easy Sam, having all these labels attached to you just for
loving someone.”
He shifts slightly, his confusion visible. “What labels, CJ? The only ones
I’m seeing are those which you automatically assume people will stick on
you.”
She leans her head on her hands, eyes narrowing. “You just don’t get
it do you?”
He lets out a deep breath, praying inside that the ice won’t break. “I’m
younger than you are. We are colleagues. We both have public profiles to consider.”
She pushes her hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear before speaking.
“So you do understand.”
“No, CJ, I don’t. So what if I’m five years younger than you,
that we happen to be colleagues who work at the White House, and that the public
might be marginally interested. Why should you give a flying fuck about that?”
“We both know that politics is perception, and it will reflect badly on
this administration,” she exclaims.
“Yes, if we make out in the back of cars, or have phone-sex and someone
has footage, it just might,” he remarks.
“Don’t trivialise this.”
“I’m not. Jesus, CJ, why don’t you think people can understand
that love is an involuntary reflex? You should have been there when I told Leo,
and Toby, and Josh.”
She rolls her eyes at him. “Well, be glad I wasn’t, because you probably
wouldn’t be standing anymore.”
He smiles and leans over to her. “They weren’t angry. Sure, they were
surprised, but most of all they were pleased, and Toby, well...”
She kisses him softly on the lips. “He called me, you know. Said how happy
he was for me, and I went crazy, and he just stopped me, and told me- I do believe
his words were ‘Don’t be childish.’”
Her eyes observe his mouth, watching as he laughs, as he talks. “That sounds
like him.” He pauses, gazes into her precious eyes. “Promise to get
through the bumps together?”
She wraps her arms around his neck, and their lips meet, tongues intertwine,
and it’s the best answer he could ever have wished for.
~* *~
The alarm clock went off fifteen minutes ago, at least she thinks it did. It
could have been half an hour, but the covers are so comfortable, and the sheets
smell fabulously of Sam. Her and Sam, and last night, and this morning.
“Come on, it’s so late already,” he tells her as he wanders out
of the bathroom, tugging on some clean black pants, and a white shirt.
“Oh shit, is it that late?” she exclaims, rubbing her eyes until the
glowing numbers on the clock return her to reality.
Tossing the covers reluctantly across the bed, she moves towards the steam-filled
bathroom, and when she isn’t looking, he sneaks up behind her and kisses
her shoulders.
“Morning,” he smiles.
“Is this a request to join me?” she giggles, eyebrows raised flirtatiously.
“It would be if we weren’t so damn late,” he says before shoving
her under the hot spray. Her laughter echoes through the room as he leaves for
the kitchen.
~* *~
She staggers into the kitchen, dressed in her bathrobe, wet hair up in a clip.
Once she’s sure no-one is watching, she snatches the bagel from the counter,
and curls up in the seat on the window ledge. She flicks the heavy curtains
out of the way, and as they fall into place in front of her, forming a half
barrier between her and the room, she begins to savor her new conquest.
The sound of bare feet on tiles indicate his presence, and she holds her breath
for a moment. “Hey, I’m sure I made a bagel and left it here and now...”
His voice trails off, and she can picture his eyes dancing around the room in
confusion.
After waiting a moment, she sneaks her head out from behind the curtain. “Would
you be looking for this one?” she asks, pointing to the plate in her other
hand.
“Yes. “ He pauses before stating the obvious. “That was my breakfast,
you know.”
“Oh, was it? It tastes really good,” she says mischievously as she
struts towards him, demonstratively licking her fingers.
His eyes follow her intently, enjoying the total absence of her inhibitions.
“I thought you didn’t ‘do’ breakfast.”
“I decided to take your advice,” she remarks, taking another bite
before adding, “It’s lacking strawberry jam.”
He continues to watch her, completely enthralled. “I made that, you know,
so that _I_ could eat it.”
“I’m enjoying it for you,” she beams.
“I can see that, but I want my bagel.”
“It’s mine now,” she retorts, dipping her finger into the cream
cheese and smearing it onto his nose.
With one swoop, he lunges for her plate, and she yelps gleefully, dashing around
the kitchen table, hair coming undone and forming wet strands around her face.
They dodge each other around the kitchen counter, he darting one way, she skipping
the other, as he tries to grab the bagel from her.
“I need my breakfast,” he states when he pauses for a breath and to
admire her in all her post-shower attractiveness.
She raises her eyebrows seductively. “So, come and get it.”
He rushes around the counter towards her, but before he can get close enough
to reach the plate, she’s dashed out of the kitchen door, laughing hysterically.
“CJ,” he calls, running after her.
A loud crashing sound is accompanied by a slew of swearing, and when he reaches
the bedroom, she is face down on the floor, the two bagel halves beside her.
“Damn rugs,” she exclaims as she rolls over to look up at him.
He’s standing there in the doorway, his laughter spirited. Kneeling down
to pick up his intended food, he reaches over her sprawled body, but before
he can even reach one of the halves, she’s pulled him down beside her,
and is starting to unbutton his shirt.
“We can make better use of our time than with breakfast, surely?”
she whispers, licking the cream cheese from his nose.
A puzzled expression on his face, he comments, “We don’t have any.”
“Hey, you’re the one who told everyone that we’re together, so
I’m just embracing the benefits of official coupledom here,” she tells
him in-between kisses.
“You won’t get any complaints out of me.”
He undoes the already lose tie of her bathrobe, and they roll over on the floor,
a mess of skin and cotton and towelling, attempting to dodge the still scattered
bagels.
~* *~
“Well, California certainly seems to agree with you,” Carol smirks
as CJ waltzes past her desk.
“Hmm?” She looks over to her secretary, marginally confused. “I
don’t think I follow.”
“When I think of all the family chaos you must have been through these
past weeks, you do look positively radiant, considering...” Carol offers
innocently, handing CJ an array of multicolored folders.
“My mom’s recovering well. I’m, you know, fine, and it’s
a beautiful day outside. What more could one wish for,” she says dreamily,
heading to her office while Carol answers the telephone.
“Okay... Yes, she is here, just came in. I can put you through, John.”
Carol places her hand over the receiver, and calls out to her boss. “CJ,
John’s on the phone.”
“Thanks. I’ll take it in here.”
Once the door has been closed behind her, she casually slings the folders onto
the chair and admires the sun shining through the window, wishing she could
be lazing outside on the lawn. Resigned to her working fate, she reaches over
the desk to pick up the phone.
“Morning John. How are things?” She twirls the phone cord around her
index finger and takes a long sip of her coffee while her colleague informs
her of the day’s happenings. Gradually, the smile painted across her face
fades, and it takes all her restraint not to spit out the coffee in her mouth.
“Are you sure of this? Who was there? Shit. Yeah, thanks. Get back to me
if you have any more, okay?”
She places the receiver down quickly, disgusted at the news it has brought her.
“Carol,” she calls urgently from the doorway of her office. “Is
Leo in?”
Her assistant stops thumbing through her agenda. “Should be. Why?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she blurts. “Umm, can you get the staff
to assemble in my office in fifteen minutes?”
Carol nods. “I’ll do my best.”
~* *~
“Why am I here?” Sam asks, grimacing.
“Because I told you to be,” CJ states sourly.
“I have work to do.”
She removes her glasses and glares sternly at him. “Yeah, no shit. So do
I, but our priorities have shifted slightly for today.”
“I have a meeting with Congressman Davis in twenty minutes,” he pouts.
Leo clears his throat, and the two turn their heads to look at him. “I
assume you are having this mind-numbing conversation in here for a reason, but
I’d greatly appreciate it if you could include me in your ramblings.”
Taking a seat, CJ proceeds to explain. “I got a phone call from John. Apparently
a journalist for the New York Times was at National Airport yesterday, as was
I...” she pauses for a moment to glance over at Sam, who is shifting uncomfortably
in his seat. ”... And Sam.”
Leo nods, writing something on the pad of paper before him.
“John says the issue will probably arise at the press briefing today,”
she sighs, defeated.
“And please explain to me why I am supposed to care about this?” Leo
questions, eyes flicking between the pair seated opposite him.
“It is clearly a staff issue,” CJ says in her best professional tone.
“So? The White House does not comment on the personal lives of its staff.
You know that. I know that. Why the urgency, CJ?” Leo places his pencil
down, and gives her a fatherly look.
“I just wanted you to know that this might come up, that’s all,”
she says, feeling exposed as even Leo can see through her.
“Thank you.” Leo rises from his chair and moves over to the two. “I
don’t condone your actions, as you know, but I will always be supportive
of your wish for privacy.”
She smiles, first at Leo, and then at Sam. “Okay,” she nods, heading
towards the door.
~* *~
They’ve culminated, these months of sorrows and joys that life’s little
whirlwinds threw at her, and she’s come out standing tall as ever, in spite
of the tripping and falling. It’ll never stop, never has done, and surely
never will, but as long as she can make it to the eye of the storm, where the
weather’s beautiful, then all the struggles seem worthwhile.
He’s hurt her more than she can remember being hurt before, but she injured
him back, stabbed him to the very core of his being, yet their wounds seem to
have healed somehow. The scars remain as tiny mementoes of duels past, and she’s
grateful that she has those to hold onto, for it makes everything all the more
real. He’s real, genuine, and they’ll go home together, wake up together,
and fight and make love together.
She closes her notebook, and places the pens and disks into the top desk drawer.
The necessary items she shoves into her bag, and pulls her coat effortlessly
from its hanger, tossing it over her arm before switching the light off.
It’s past midnight, and the halls are empty but for a few staffers whisking
off to complete a last minute errand. She gingerly pokes her head around his
door.
“Samuel,” she smiles.
“Hey. I’m just about ready.”
“No hurry.” Standing in the doorway, she watches him as he runs down
his mental checklist, grabbing almost forgotten memos from the pile on his desk.
His hands flail around a little, trying to locate something he can’t even
remember. She loves his erratic ways, how he can be so unprepared, yet can spontaniously
create such perfect speeches that make her heart pound.
Moving towards the hallway, he glances around the room, checking for something
he might have forgotten, but it’s all a show, as he can think of nothing
but her standing with her back against the door frame, watching him.
As much as he’d like to prolong the moment, he closes the door behind him,
and takes her hand, gazing into her gentle eyes. “So, how was your day?”
~ the end~
______________________________________________
feedback as always to cappuccinogirlie@hotmail.com
visit the author’s website at www.cappuccinnogirl.com
______________________________________________
Complicated: A Series
1. Complicated Piece
2. Abandoned Communication
3. A Teasing Distance
4. The Boy-From-Next-Door Routine
5. And So They Part
6. Constant Becomes Variable
7. Life’s Little Whirlwinds
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