mall
by Pares
And when he looked up from the newspaper, he saw this kid, scraggly looking, hooded sweatshirt, white kid, early 20s, pale eyes. And he had in his hand a crumpled plastic bag, something in a hot pink, he could almost hear CJ telling him it was really more of a fuschia, and then he realized that it wasn't the color that had caught his eyes, but the *shape*, the snub L-shape of a weapon, and he thought about turning around as if he'd forgotten an umbrella, but the kid caught his eye, and he knew he was screwed."I hate the mall," he muttered, and the kid waved him over with his gun-heavy hand.
Later, when CJ was pacing and snarking at anyone within earshot, she stopped and asked, "How many gun wielding maniacs are *in* this godforsaken town?"
Josh flinched and tucked his chin.
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
Sam was glaring at Ainsley as if she was personally responsible, and Ainsley had her chin up, looking as one imagined any proud believer might look if about to be burned at the stake. Ginger fretted at Toby's desk, silently wringing her hands.
Donna was petting Ginger's shoulder and glancing nervously at CJ, who was rapidly wearing a hole in the floor.
And then Toby walked though the door, CJ took two long steps toward him and then stopped.
"Toby!" and there was clamor, and Josh and Sam and Ginger all touched him as if to make sure he was real, and Donna smiled so hard tears stood in her eyes, and he asked everyone, very quietly, to leave, to please leave his office.
CJ was the last to go, and now that he had only a week's worth of stubble rather than a full curling beard, she could see how weak his chin was, and his soft, drooping mouth.
He crept into CJ's office and closed the door behind him. After a slow breath he said:
"I just wanted. I have to tell you. I-- I love you."
"You what?"
"I had to tell you," he said, staring at the floor and her expensive carpet, and CJ stood up slowly and stalked over to him, hunching her shoulders and crossing her arms.
"You 'had' to tell me? You made a deal with God, and this was, what-- your punishment? Your good deed? The *only* reason I am not smacking you across the face is because I thought you were dead until about ten minutes ago. And the reason I'm going to let this go is because you've just been held at gunpoint for the better part of thirteen hours, and you're probably a little insane right now."
"I'm not insane, CJ. I'm just..." He waved one hand vaguely. "You know. I had to tell you."
And he turned around and walked out.
END
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