DISCLAIMER: As per all my work – not mine, no money whatsoever, just some writing fun and hopefully reading pleasure….they are all.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It may help if you know that a Grasshopper is a cocktail.....
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Happy Meals and Grasshoppers
By ncruuk
It was late at night in the West Wing and, whilst far from deserted, being fully staffed with police, Marines and Secret Service Agents, the absence of all the clerical staff did make the building feel deserted. Striding out of her office, past the empty desks which in a few short hours would once again be filled with eager young staffers ready to work small administrative miracles for their bosses, CJ enjoyed the relative quiet and stillness of the bullpen as she set about finding a photocopying machine.
"Great, we're god knows how many gazillion in debt and some clever dick thinks it's prudent to save 50 cents on electricity by turning off the copier..." groused CJ, her earlier charitable thoughts about the Communications 'little people' evaporating in a moment as she found the on button and waited for the photocopier to get its shit together ready to copy her three newspaper cuttings which instinct told her would be good for the spin boys to read with their morning muffins.
As she waited, she found her mind wandering as she started to notice things about this particular part of the bullpen that she rarely spent any time in at all, and certainly not when she was in a position to admire the sconce work and plaster detail. Her musings were cut short however, by the faint click of feminine heels on marble corridor floor which were gradually, albeit carefully and slowly, getting nearer. Mentally reviewing all those she knew to be in this part of the building who would be wearing such a heel, CJ eliminated herself, because she was standing still, and Donna, because there wasn't the accompanying soft shoe shuffle of Josh as he tormented her, which left, according to CJ's check list, only Abbey Bartlett and...
The faint hum of a Gilbert and Sullivan song confirmed the identity, causing CJ to relax once more, only for it to be replaced with barely concealed amusement as the hum turned to actual singing and the faint clack of heels was replaced by the sight and sound of Ainsley Hayes walking up the corridor, singing quietly to herself. But none of that was what was causing CJ's amusement.
"Hello CJ...." drawled Ainsley, recognising her lover who was now propped casually up against the copier.
"Hey...having fun?" asked CJ, trying desperately not to laugh.
"Almost, although my entertainment and delight would be improved greatly if I could persuade a certain individual who, despite their political preferences, is someone who I have a lot of feeling for, and I rather enjoy kissing, is currently standing some distance from me, if that person could be persuaded to kiss me..."
The normally verbose Ainsley's natural conversation style favoured lengthy sentences with many sub-clauses which, whilst CJ found easy to untangle during normal working hours, often became incomprehensible when CJ was either tired or sober to an obviously slightly tipsy Ainsley.
"Ah....you had fun?"
"I did...and I brought you a present. You can't get grasshoppers as take out...." pouted Ainsley holding out her gift to her lover, sad that she hadn't managed a proper treat.
"Thank you...I think..." began CJ, carefully accepting the large helium filled balloon that Ainsley handed to her, wondering what on earth she'd been up to - hadn't she been just going out for drinks with friends?
"I had a Happy Meal...." continued Ainsley, content to walk with CJ back to her office, now the photocopying was complete.
"A Happy Meal?" CJ was confused, but had a feeling that explained the balloon which, on closer inspection, seemed to be branded 'McDonalds'.
"I didn't eat lunch..." explained Ainsley, collapsing on CJ's couch and enjoying the long arms that snaked around her, the balloon forgotten as it floated up to the ceiling.
"Sounds like you didn't eat dinner either..." observed CJ, deciding that home was now infinitely more attractive than it had been two hours ago...
NEXT MORNING:
"CJ?"
"Yes Josh?"
"Why's there a balloon in your office?"
"Get out..."
The End