[For sangerin. "Dead Irish Poets." CJ/Abbey/Donna/Amy. R. Drunk.]
There's good wine *and* there's good wine. This is the kind of wine that's chief excellent quality is that it making you very drunk very quickly.
If they weren't drunk, CJ would shy away from the First Lady's touch, but this is excellent wine, and Abbey's kisses have always been intoxication.
If they weren't drunk, Donna wouldn't be staring at Amy's legs with wanton longing, but this is excellent wine, and it's been noted that Amy's legs go all the way down to the floor.
CJ's hand is already halfway up Amy's skirt when she realizes that expression is meaningless.
[For raedbard. Early. Josh/Sam/Toby/CJ. PG. Circle.]
One Analogy in Four Parts
Their love is:
Sam, whose tight collar chokes his fear. He's never been here before; the newness brightens his face with innocence they would die to preserve a moment longer.
Josh, who looks one direction and thinks the other, loosens his shirt and rolls up his sleeves and isn't afraid to make a mess with his life if it means another vote.
Toby, silent and sad, looking and never touching while CJ and Josh wrestle Sam to the couch and untie his tie and unleash his smile.
CJ, whose smile leaves circular lipstick stains on their cheeks to remind them.
[For mayhap. BSC crossover. CJ/Claudia. PG. They have the same name.]
Someone's Idea of a Joke
"C'mon, CJ; you'll find things to discuss. You've got the same name!"
"Yes, Josh, I've found that's often worked."
"Look, we're doing something to support the arts."
"Yes, but, money, right? I was hoping I wouldn't have to actually, physically, support artwork."
"I'm pretty sure they've got walls for that."
"I'll just have to shake her hand, right?"
"This is in no way an attempt to set me up on a blind date?"
"I guess that's a possibility, too."
"I hate you, Joshua."
"It's good to know."
"She's too young for me."
"I'm sure you'll find that's not true."
[for hermionesviolin. Terribly AU. CJ/Tara. PG Daisy.]
She loves me; she loves me not. Tara's fingers round a flower every day, counting time in daisy petals till CJ's next trip West.
"This isn't working. I can't stand... I can't stand it when I'm away from you, and I can't do anything when I'm near you.... What are these?"
"I -- I counted days," Tara says, and tries to hide the potpourri with her body, but CJ is catlike over Tara's shoulder.
"It smells good," CJ says. "Could I take them with me?"
"Like a reminder?"
"Something like. I was thinking more like a promise."
She loves me.