Work Text:
Disclaimer: The characters from the show aren't mine, they belong to others. No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you don't recognise are mine. Feedback would be nice, positive feedback would be nicer. Enjoy!
Category: Toby fic
Rating: G
Characters: Everyone
Series: No
Spoilers: None - pure PWP
Summary: Toby moves into the 21st Century with his new toy. But was it a good idea to bring it to work?
Archive: Just tell me where it's going
Additional -stuff': This is my response to a challenge "Crushes. . . everybody has them. . . some bordering on obsession. So, challenge is to write someone having a crush on a musician."
Title: Ol' blue eyes
Friday
-Toby, what you working on?'
Leo sighed as Toby failed to acknowledge him. Leo resorted to repeatedly flicking the light on and off. Ever since his birthday the week before Toby had bought his personal CD player into the office. And while eating his lunch, he listened to it, eyes closed except when he was reaching for his sandwich, lying on the couch in his office, oblivious to anything going on around him.
Sam had interrupted Toby a couple of days earlier by shaking his boss's shoulder and had been yelled at for scaring Toby half to death.
Josh's approach had been more subtle. He had reached down and flicked the on/off switch to off. He had been yelled at for risking damage to the disc in the machine.
CJ had gone for the direct approach, standing behind Toby and ripping his headphones off. For some reason, Toby hadn't yelled at her half as loudly as he had at Sam or Josh.
For his safety, and for the sake of everyone else in the West Wing, by Friday morning, the President had got everyone together and warned them to be careful when approaching Toby when he was hooked up to his CD player.
-The last thing the Administration needs is a headline in the Post -Communications Director dies while listening to...' Bartlet had paused at that point. -Toby, what do you listen to?'
-Frank Sinatra, Sir.'
Jed, Leo and CJ nodded appreciatively. -Good choice Toby.'
Sam and Josh were less impressed. Sam smiled understandingly, but Josh blurted out: -Isn't he dead?'
The three older members of the Senior Staff and the President turned their eyes to Josh. -You have something against performers who are no longer with us Josh?'
-Er, no Sir, it's just, well, I kinda figured Toby for something more modern.'
-Like Limp Bizkit.' Sam supplied helpfully.
Leo scowled. -You do know that that isn't the correct spelling of -biscuit', right Sam?'
Sam shot Leo a look.
Josh shook his head. -Not that modern. Just, you know, maybe seventies.'
CJ smiled. -Janis Joplin.'
-Who died of a drug overdose.' Leo said grimly.
-But was a great singer.'
-You want great singers, try Maria Callas.' Leo suggested.
Again Sam and Josh were lost. -Who?'
Bartlet sighed. -Okay. Tomorrow, someone bring in a CD player, and everyone bring in their favorite CD. We'll have them on while we work.'
Everyone started to walk away, when Josh remembered something. -Er, Sir, we didn't get to hear your favorite singer.'
Bartlet smiled. -Wait and see Josh, wait and see. And I don't remember hearing your favorite recording artist.'
Josh laughed. -I guess you'll just have to wait and see too Sir.'
Saturday
Josh heaved the CD/radio/cassette player onto the desk in the middle of the West Wing. Plugging it in, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a CD case. Walking across the room, Bartlet frowned. -Who says you get to go first Josh?'
-Well Sir, I kinda figured as I bought it in...'
-You'd let me go first. Thanks Josh.'
Reluctantly, Josh replaced the CD in his briefcase and allowed the President to place his disk in the machine.
Within moments, CJ, Toby and Leo, all gathered in Toby's office to discuss an upcoming Presidential address, stopped talking and listened to...
While Bartlet retrieved his CD, Josh asked: -The Corrs, Sir?'
-Yeah Josh. Abbey kept on at me to listen to their music, and now I'm really keen on them.'
-Er, okay, Sir. Whatever. Who goes next?'
-I think Leo.'
Leo opened the CD case he had brought with him, and the room filled with the sound of what sounded to Josh and Sam like opera. They just didn't know which one. Or who it was.
Toby smiled appreciatively. -Mmm. Traviata.'
-Yup. It was either that or Marriage of Figaro, but I couldn't find the CD and I was running late.'
-CJ?'
-Josh, I do not want to hear your opinion on my choice, okay?'
Josh looked crushed. As if he would. -Okay.' Hurt, Josh walked into Sam's office just as the Beatles' Penny Lane started up.
Walking into Sam's office a few minutes later, CJ was surprised to find Josh and Sam humming along to the song. -Great choice Claudia Jean.'
-Thank you Josh.'
-Better than Sinatra, anyway.' Josh muttered under his breath.
-I heard that Josh.' Toby snapped from the doorway.
-You were supposed to.' Josh lied, getting up and walking back to his own office.
-Josh, Sam, who wants to go next?'
-I do.' Sam asserted. -That way Josh's choice won't ruin you for mine.'
-How do you know what I bought?' Josh challenged.
-Josh, I've been to your apartment. I've seen your CD collection, okay?'
Josh was forced to concede the point. His CD collection was extensive, but the artistic range was a little on the narrow side.
Seconds later, the strains of Mozart's Requiem filled the air. Josh wasn't a classical music fan, but he'd heard the music often enough at Sam's to be able to continue to work undistracted through the familiar background sounds.
-Josh, I think it's your turn.'
-At last Sir.'
-Well?'
Josh hid the CD case cover with his body, quickly placing the CD in the machine and closing the lid.
-What the...?' Leo pulled his door closed, blocking out the sound coming from the outer office. Moments later, Sam, Toby and the President followed his example. Josh stood in the middle of the office, Donna at his side until she, too, found Josh's choice of music not to her taste and walked quickly back to her desk.
-Charlie, is there much more of that?' Bartlet shook his head, trying to concentrate on the briefing document in front of him. -Yes Sir. About another dozen songs.'
-Next time I have an idea, Charlie, remind me of this, okay?'
Charlie laughed. -Yes Sir.'
Bracing himself, Bartlet walked quickly from his office to Josh's. He paused in the doorway, watching Josh playing air guitar and twisting his body in time to the music, if that was what it was, in a way Bartlet considered might be life-threatening.
Eventually realising he was being watched, Josh stopped his gyrations and said sheepishly: -Didn't you ever want to be someone else Sir? Elvis, or...'
-No Josh. Not Elvis.'
-The Corrs personal masseur?'
Bartlet laughed. -Yeah maybe.'
-I just wanted to be...'
The sudden increase in volume cut off whatever Josh had been about to say. Both men stood unmoving as the discordant notes of the Sex Pistols crashed their way through the song on the CD which was the one Josh treasured over all the other discs in his comprehensive British punk rock collection. Waiting for the volume to drop again, Josh closed his eyes and pictured the piles of CD's. And he had but one thought. Johnny Rotten rules.
End