C.J. Cregg, M.F.T
west wing. c.j./josh (however, josh/joey romantically), analysis. pg. for pinkinks
"Is it weird with Kenny there," she whispers.
a/n: Hey getting to the alphabet prompts. I'm back… even though I never told anyone I was leaving. For that I apologize.
"Hey, how's that whole Joey Lucas thing working out for you?" C.J. sits behind her desk and moves her glasses from her nose to her head. Josh stands in the doorway.
"Should I walk out and then come back in because that sounds like it was coming from somewhere I am not." He has this crooked look on his face and she smirks wanting to feel lopsided too.
"Sit down, mon ami," she invites and points to the space between the resident chairs in front of her desk. He flops down onto the couch instead.
"Do you even speak French?"
"I do not," she clicks her tongue, "I bet Joey Lucas speaks French."
"Well, I'm not sure how much speech would be involved, but I get what you're saying. She's quite fluent in Latin."
"Oh, dead language kind of girl. I like that."
"You, as well as the President, I'm sure."
Her hand twists and turns underneath her chin. "Is it weird with Kenny there," she whispers.
He gives her a rude look and considers not answering the question. Stretching his arms out and along the back of the couch he says, "He has a house and a girlfriend or wife or something."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Really," her voice arches slightly and her head tilts.
"Why are you so surprised by this? It's Kenny's job to interrupt. Not his life."
"Well, I can make an argument for that."
"C.J., as alarming as it may be, the rest of the population is capable of having a life outside of work."
"I'm assuming Joey Lucas taught you this."
"Why can't you just call her Joey?"
"It rolls off the tongue."
Josh closes his eyes and rubs his forehead, "This.. This isn't what I came here for."
"Aw, really? I think we're having a good time."
"Well, one's good time is another's hell so.."
"I don't think that's a real thing," she squints.
"We can't talk about this."
"Why?"
"Because you interrogate --"
"-- It's simple curiosity."
"Well, you're "curiosity" develops into nosiness and the next thing I know you start analyzing everything like, like a goddamn psychiatrist!" Josh huffs with his eyebrows are to the roof, his face is flushed. C.J. remains cool, eyeing him as if to say 'feel better now?'
After a moment she says, "Psychologist."
"What?"
"I think you mean psychologist."
"What difference does it make?"
She sips her water and shakes her head. "You don't need medication."
"Okay, that's it," he announces slapping his palms down on the cushions before launching upward. "I'm getting the hell out of here before I analyze your ass back to Ohio."
"Is it weird with Kenny there," she whispers.
a/n: Hey getting to the alphabet prompts. I'm back… even though I never told anyone I was leaving. For that I apologize.
"Hey, how's that whole Joey Lucas thing working out for you?" C.J. sits behind her desk and moves her glasses from her nose to her head. Josh stands in the doorway.
"Should I walk out and then come back in because that sounds like it was coming from somewhere I am not." He has this crooked look on his face and she smirks wanting to feel lopsided too.
"Sit down, mon ami," she invites and points to the space between the resident chairs in front of her desk. He flops down onto the couch instead.
"Do you even speak French?"
"I do not," she clicks her tongue, "I bet Joey Lucas speaks French."
"Well, I'm not sure how much speech would be involved, but I get what you're saying. She's quite fluent in Latin."
"Oh, dead language kind of girl. I like that."
"You, as well as the President, I'm sure."
Her hand twists and turns underneath her chin. "Is it weird with Kenny there," she whispers.
He gives her a rude look and considers not answering the question. Stretching his arms out and along the back of the couch he says, "He has a house and a girlfriend or wife or something."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Really," her voice arches slightly and her head tilts.
"Why are you so surprised by this? It's Kenny's job to interrupt. Not his life."
"Well, I can make an argument for that."
"C.J., as alarming as it may be, the rest of the population is capable of having a life outside of work."
"I'm assuming Joey Lucas taught you this."
"Why can't you just call her Joey?"
"It rolls off the tongue."
Josh closes his eyes and rubs his forehead, "This.. This isn't what I came here for."
"Aw, really? I think we're having a good time."
"Well, one's good time is another's hell so.."
"I don't think that's a real thing," she squints.
"We can't talk about this."
"Why?"
"Because you interrogate --"
"-- It's simple curiosity."
"Well, you're "curiosity" develops into nosiness and the next thing I know you start analyzing everything like, like a goddamn psychiatrist!" Josh huffs with his eyebrows are to the roof, his face is flushed. C.J. remains cool, eyeing him as if to say 'feel better now?'
After a moment she says, "Psychologist."
"What?"
"I think you mean psychologist."
"What difference does it make?"
She sips her water and shakes her head. "You don't need medication."
"Okay, that's it," he announces slapping his palms down on the cushions before launching upward. "I'm getting the hell out of here before I analyze your ass back to Ohio."