Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2010-12-08 01:00 am
scripted_sra) wrote2010-12-08 01:00 am
Entry tags:
The West Wing/Corlionis | Conversations | PG | Gen
Title: Conversations
Fandom: The West Wing/Polyfaceted
Rating: PG
Pairing: None.
Summary: Toby has a surprising conversation.
Word Count: 820
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
Claimer: Part of this I co-own. Mostly just Isabella. =P
A/N: Utterly self-indulgent. Timelines have been fucked with beyond recognition. I am very random. Posted solely to amuse me and one other person. =P
"Jack Daniel's, rocks," Toby tells the bartender, and the woman who's just sat down on the stool next to him smiles approvingly.
"I'll have what he's having," she says.
Toby tips his glass to her when their drinks arrive, and she returns the gesture. For a second, he's mesmerized; she's beautiful, yes, but there's something familiar about her that he can't quite place. Before he can say anything, she beats him to it: "You look familiar."
"Toby Ziegler," he says. "I'm—"
"White House Communications Director! I knew I recognized you," she interrupts with a nod. "You and the other guy you work with—Sam Seaborn? You write some impressive speeches."
"Well, you know, it gets us all the women," he says, and she grins.
"I should think so."
"You from here?" he asks, and she shakes her head.
"New York. Here on business." She takes a sip of her whiskey, drinking it effortlessly. "I like this president. He seems like a noble guy."
Toby pauses. "He is," he says at last. "So we can count on your vote?"
"What, like I'd vote for Ritchie?" She shakes her head. "Wish you guys could do more about gay rights, though. Should've seen my older brother tear apart our offices when the president signed that Marriage Recognition Act."
"He had to sign it. The veto would've been overridden if he hadn't. It—"
"Would make him look weak, yeah, I understand how politics work." She shrugs. "Still sucked, though."
"Yes," he replies. "Yes, it did." After a moment, he says, "You look familiar to me as well. And I haven't asked your name."
"It's Isabella," she says. "And I bet I look familiar. One of your impressive speeches called my family, I believe the exact quote was, "This criminal enterprise that is vast and expansive, a scourge on our fine nation, made up of petty murderers flaunting our laws and crowning themselves royalty."
That stops him cold. "Isabella Corlioni," he says, tone cool. "Shouldn't you be in, I don't know, prison somewhere?"
She laughs. "Nope. Free as a bird. Isn't it great?"
"You and your sister murdered dozens of people."
"Allegedly," she says. "Those charges were dismissed." She takes another drink. "You have kids?"
"No."
"Well, if you ever do, ask yourself what you'd do if one of them got kidnapped. Then see if you can judge me quite so harshly."
"And your organization has never done the same?"
She gives him a sharp look. "What do you think we are, monsters? We don't fuck with people's kids. Most of us have kids ourselves."
For some reason, Toby is absolutely certain she's telling the truth. "Did you come here on purpose?" he asks.
"Into this bar? Sort of. I saw you walk in, anyway. Wasn't planned." She shrugs. "I don't know. You've always struck me as someone who might be interesting to talk to."
"Gee," he says, "I hope I haven't disappointed you."
She smirks. "Not in the least." Shrugging, she finishes her drink and throws a few bills down on the bar. "I'll go. For his drink, too," she says to the bartender as she stands. He starts to object, but she holds up a hand. "It's the closest I'm going to be able to get to a campaign donation. Unless you think that'd be a good idea." She raises an eyebrow. He tries not to blanch.
"Please don't do that."
"Wasn't going to," she says. "Though, come to think of it, maybe I should make a donation to Ritchie's campaign."
Caught off guard, Toby laughs, just once. He eyes her appraisingly, and she smirks, tips an imaginary hat to him, and leaves.
*
"Toby, you're never going to believe this." Josh and Sam both look like they've just won the lottery and made out with a couple of supermodels simultaneously. He finds it very unsettling.
"You two are...happy. This displeases me," he says, pushing past them on his way to his office.
"You'll be happy too once we tell you this news," Josh promises. "Guess what group just made a donation to Ritchie's campaign?" He's practically vibrating with excitement. "An insurance company out of Detroit that turns out to be a subsidiary of Corlioni Enterprises. One that might be a front for a car theft and insurance fraud ring. The Ritchie campaign took money from the mob."
Toby pauses, instantly recalling that meeting in the bar, despite the fact that it was weeks ago. "They actually took the money?"
"That's the thing. The donation was just enough to slide under the radar. Probably thought no one else would notice." Sam looks smug.
No, Toby thinks. She was hoping you'd notice. "Don't make it a thing," he says then. "Let this come out on its own."
Josh and Sam each give him the same exact surprised look. That's disturbing. "Really?" Sam asks.
"Really."
Ignoring their dumbfounded expressions, he heads into his office, looking thoughtful.
Fandom: The West Wing/Polyfaceted
Rating: PG
Pairing: None.
Summary: Toby has a surprising conversation.
Word Count: 820
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
Claimer: Part of this I co-own. Mostly just Isabella. =P
A/N: Utterly self-indulgent. Timelines have been fucked with beyond recognition. I am very random. Posted solely to amuse me and one other person. =P
"Jack Daniel's, rocks," Toby tells the bartender, and the woman who's just sat down on the stool next to him smiles approvingly.
"I'll have what he's having," she says.
Toby tips his glass to her when their drinks arrive, and she returns the gesture. For a second, he's mesmerized; she's beautiful, yes, but there's something familiar about her that he can't quite place. Before he can say anything, she beats him to it: "You look familiar."
"Toby Ziegler," he says. "I'm—"
"White House Communications Director! I knew I recognized you," she interrupts with a nod. "You and the other guy you work with—Sam Seaborn? You write some impressive speeches."
"Well, you know, it gets us all the women," he says, and she grins.
"I should think so."
"You from here?" he asks, and she shakes her head.
"New York. Here on business." She takes a sip of her whiskey, drinking it effortlessly. "I like this president. He seems like a noble guy."
Toby pauses. "He is," he says at last. "So we can count on your vote?"
"What, like I'd vote for Ritchie?" She shakes her head. "Wish you guys could do more about gay rights, though. Should've seen my older brother tear apart our offices when the president signed that Marriage Recognition Act."
"He had to sign it. The veto would've been overridden if he hadn't. It—"
"Would make him look weak, yeah, I understand how politics work." She shrugs. "Still sucked, though."
"Yes," he replies. "Yes, it did." After a moment, he says, "You look familiar to me as well. And I haven't asked your name."
"It's Isabella," she says. "And I bet I look familiar. One of your impressive speeches called my family, I believe the exact quote was, "This criminal enterprise that is vast and expansive, a scourge on our fine nation, made up of petty murderers flaunting our laws and crowning themselves royalty."
That stops him cold. "Isabella Corlioni," he says, tone cool. "Shouldn't you be in, I don't know, prison somewhere?"
She laughs. "Nope. Free as a bird. Isn't it great?"
"You and your sister murdered dozens of people."
"Allegedly," she says. "Those charges were dismissed." She takes another drink. "You have kids?"
"No."
"Well, if you ever do, ask yourself what you'd do if one of them got kidnapped. Then see if you can judge me quite so harshly."
"And your organization has never done the same?"
She gives him a sharp look. "What do you think we are, monsters? We don't fuck with people's kids. Most of us have kids ourselves."
For some reason, Toby is absolutely certain she's telling the truth. "Did you come here on purpose?" he asks.
"Into this bar? Sort of. I saw you walk in, anyway. Wasn't planned." She shrugs. "I don't know. You've always struck me as someone who might be interesting to talk to."
"Gee," he says, "I hope I haven't disappointed you."
She smirks. "Not in the least." Shrugging, she finishes her drink and throws a few bills down on the bar. "I'll go. For his drink, too," she says to the bartender as she stands. He starts to object, but she holds up a hand. "It's the closest I'm going to be able to get to a campaign donation. Unless you think that'd be a good idea." She raises an eyebrow. He tries not to blanch.
"Please don't do that."
"Wasn't going to," she says. "Though, come to think of it, maybe I should make a donation to Ritchie's campaign."
Caught off guard, Toby laughs, just once. He eyes her appraisingly, and she smirks, tips an imaginary hat to him, and leaves.
"Toby, you're never going to believe this." Josh and Sam both look like they've just won the lottery and made out with a couple of supermodels simultaneously. He finds it very unsettling.
"You two are...happy. This displeases me," he says, pushing past them on his way to his office.
"You'll be happy too once we tell you this news," Josh promises. "Guess what group just made a donation to Ritchie's campaign?" He's practically vibrating with excitement. "An insurance company out of Detroit that turns out to be a subsidiary of Corlioni Enterprises. One that might be a front for a car theft and insurance fraud ring. The Ritchie campaign took money from the mob."
Toby pauses, instantly recalling that meeting in the bar, despite the fact that it was weeks ago. "They actually took the money?"
"That's the thing. The donation was just enough to slide under the radar. Probably thought no one else would notice." Sam looks smug.
No, Toby thinks. She was hoping you'd notice. "Don't make it a thing," he says then. "Let this come out on its own."
Josh and Sam each give him the same exact surprised look. That's disturbing. "Really?" Sam asks.
"Really."
Ignoring their dumbfounded expressions, he heads into his office, looking thoughtful.
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LOL FUCKING PERFECT. Love it so hard.
("Pft, fucker, we are royalty. Your citizens crowned us--they did business with us. We fought our way up to our position, just the same as you.")
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(*snerk* Oh Nic. Toby's father worked for Murder, Inc., good luck convincing him. =P)