#erm. I low key wanna turn this into a script lmao

[aerielz]

come and untangle me one of these days

- a dream. a mistake. company, to make it better.

This is for and because of everyone in the original Flower Shop!AU post notes, specially @claudiasjeancregg and @stars-on-the-cuffs-of-her-jeans. You guys went waaaay too fast and I’m still trying to put Donna in here let alone everyone else, but I do hope everyone enjoys this! Title from Come and Find Me, by Josh Ritter. I feel like everything I’ll ever write for this AU will be somehow based off this song, tbh.

fandom: the west wing pairings: JD, CJ/Toby wc: 2453 rating: gen tag: flowershop au

He wakes up at the crack of dawn, stirred by some weird dream he can’t quite remember — some bittersweet memory. The coffee he takes washes away the sweetness and he’s left with only the bitter of it, stuck to the back of his throat.

He leaves the house, then. The streets are still somewhat deserted, but, much like his hometown, DC never really sleeps. Toby walks the five minutes from his house to the shop, and watches as the sun comes up behind the Capitol dome.

Walking into the storefront proves itself a bigger hazard than his own mood, though, as he is almost run over by a flurry of blonde as soon as he steps through the threshold— “Wow.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!,” Donna is already there, crossing quickly towards a table under the wall-to-wall window with a spray bottle in hand and talking into a phone she holds with her shoulder. “Oh— no, no, don’t worry, that was just Mr. Ziegler. Yes, of course. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll let him know, don’t— tomorrow? That should be hard, how about Saturday? Okay. Okay, thank you so much, Dr. Bartlett.”

“Donna,” he says when she hangs up.

“Shouldn’t we receive a shipment of sunflowers this weekend?” She sprays a mist over an arrangement of daisies.

It's too early for this. Too early for and her energy and her incessant talking, but somehow Toby can never be mad at Donna. Even when she sends congratulatory arrangements to funerals by accident. Even when she turns around still spraying, causing him to find himself inside a cloud.

“Donna—”

“We’ll sure need them, Dr. Bartlett just called saying that Liz will be home for the weekend.”

"How many times I have to tell you to never call me Mr. Ziegler?"

"Should I call you Mr. Grumpy, then?"

"It's Mr. nothing, Donna."

"Oh, c'mon. Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” she jokes. But her quip lacks the bite and the sparkle, and Toby finally notices it — she was here before sunup, too.

He barely has time to register the conversation and that last fact when the bell above the door rings behind him. His heart skips a beat.

Donna looks up to check and her eyes widen, just a little bit. Just enough.

“Oh, God, no, not him,” he mutters to himself.

“Can anyone tell me what magnolias are supposed to stand for?”

Toby sighs, closing his eyes.

“This is a flower shop,” he says, turning around, “can’t say much about trees.”

Josh Lyman, arrogant extraordinaire, flashes a smirk, shrugging apologetically. "Maybe you should start thinking about expanding."

He swagger his way further into the shop, stopping just beside him.

“I—,” she says, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, “Well, actually flowers from magnolias are very common in bridal bouquets. They’re these beautiful, delicate, things, they’re supposed to be all about purity and nobility.”

This is why he keeps her here, Toby thinks. For every fact about flowers that he doesn’t know, Donna knows five he’s pretty sure no one but her knows about. But she looks down to the floor, and Toby thinks she sounds sad, somehow.

“Well, that..." Josh’s smirk quickly turns into a grimace. "That makes sense."

“The more you know,” he says, clapping his hands against his legs. "Well, you got your answer, then."

"Yeah, maybe... maybe we should focus on some other flower," Josh says.

Toby is more than ready to focus on showing Josh the door when—

The bell rings again.

Sam walks in, saying, "Oh. And here I was thinking I was gonna be the first."

Toby runs a hand over his face and takes a glance at his wristwatch. It’s barely seven. "Why are you all even up?"

"No reason," Josh answers. It's way too quick, but he's not about to question him.

"The magnolias, they..." Donna looks up directly at Josh, "Why you ask?"

"I— uh."

"Magnolias!," chimes in Sam, leaving his shoulder bag in a corner and sitting on top of the sales counter, right beside Donna, "Such pretty flowers! We're doing bridal bouquets, now? We should, the marriage stuff really is great business."

"Oh, God, no," Josh mutters.

"It really is!,” Sam continues, “There’s definitely money in the sector, and it’s not like it’s an unpleasant job. Donna here, for example, would love it. Anyone with a knack for romance would, really.”

“You work the afternoon shift,” Toby tells Sam, exasperated and already so, so, tired. “On weekends. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I have no idea, Josh was the one who called me.”

“And you came?”

"Absolutely," says Sam, almost triumphant. “I mean why not?”

“I can think of at least, I don’t know, twenty reasons.”

“Well, I like to help my friends when I can, Toby. For the same reasons I think we should really start doing weddings.”

“Unbelievable,” he cries out, “How did we even get to this point of the conversation, we are not doing weddings, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m a romantic—”

“Yeah, that explains it.”

“—and you know what, I think you are one, too. I think most, if not all, of us here are. Or you're gonna tell me you wouldn't like the sight of the love of your life, surrounded by blooms and blossoms, walking her way towards you? Or, or— maybe doing that walk yourself, that would probably be quite an experience, right? C’mon, Donna, you look like someone who dreams about a big wedding, tell ‘em."

"I... really rather not."

"God, kill me. Right now," Josh mutters a bit too loud, "Just kill me."

Toby notices, strangely enough, that Donna seems to second that thought, but the impression barely has time to settle in because at that exact moment the door opens again. But instead of the light, almost quiet, chime of the bell, they hear a sharp shrill and a loud thud, from the door connecting violently with the wall.

"Joshua Lyman, I will have you hanged," a familiar voice booms.

"I didn’t mean literally," Josh whispers to no one.

"What the actual f— I mean, really, I am never leaving you in charge of the schedule again. Amy just called me asking for your head and I’m pretty sure Joey wants your nuts served on sterling silver — why the hell did you think it was a good idea to have everyone here at like six in the morning, Joshua?"

“Look—”

“Choose your next words carefully because in order for you to keep your internal organs on the inside of your body this will have to be really good.”

His answer ends up not coming in words at all, but in a pleading look — the wide eyes of a man who needs help.

The room awaits silently for Josh's defense, but Toby is looking at CJ, who, for some reason, seems to have a monopoly on his attention whenever she's in the room. And so he catches the moment when her gazes subtly travel to Donna's face. He follows just as carefully, to find her sniffling quietly, cleaning her eyes with the sleeves of her cardigan.

CJ swallows and tracks her eyes back to Josh. Something passes between the two, some understanding, that Toby is not privy to.

“Well." She sighs, rage completely gone. Everyone looks at her. "Since we’re here... maybe... we could all just have something nice to eat...? My treat.”

Josh is visibly relieved.

"I'll take you up on that," Sam says, "I haven't eaten a thing yet."

"You left home without eating?," Donna asks.

"I'm not used to waking up this early."

"Well, let's put some kind of food inside you then," CJ says.

"And coffee," he completes.

They all walk to the nearest café together, finding Bonnie on her bike on her way to work. She unmounts and joins them. Ginger arrives later, when they're all making a fuss over latte flavours, chipping in too. Seasonal spices are seasonal, that's why they're special!, cries out Donna. Nonsense, says Josh, what if I want pumpkin spice all year round, what's wrong with that?

Toby is equal parts impressed and not at all by Josh having an elaborate coffee order. He's hanging back behind the group, watching them have fun with nothing but their own friendship, when CJ finds him.

"What about you, Tobus, gonna drown yourself in cinnamon and allspice, too?," she asks.

He lets himself laugh, "I don't think I have it in me to drink something that complicated."

"A simple man, huh."

"You could say that," he tries and fails to hide a smile.

"I have just the thing."

She enters the line and comes back two minutes later, shoving a blueberry muffin into his hands.

"You didn't have to."

She's the one smiling, then. "I know."

CJ looks up ahead at the rest of their party and her gaze falls on Donna, going soft when she watches how openly the woman laughs while trying to argue some sense into Josh about something as innocuous as coffee.

“Why do I have the impression you know something about my own employee that I don’t...?," Toby asks, then takes a bite from his muffin. It's a bit too sweet for him, but it tastes good. It feels good, like replenishing something inside him.

“I... might.”

“CJ.”

“I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Those flower arrangements, you like them a lot, right.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“It’s why I’ll never be a professional baseball player.”

“Could've had a chance with the Red Socks team of nineteen—”

“You don’t know anything about baseball, stop obfuscating.”

She sighs, sagging.

“She was supposed to be getting married today.”

Toby chokes on a piece of his muffin. CJ gives him a slap on the back.

“Married?”, he all but yells, between coughs.

“Keep your voice down!”

“What do you mean married?,” he whisper-yells, “You’re telling me she was supposed to marry that asshole?”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Voice of experience?”

“I’m a tattoo artist, Tobias, I have seen things.”

"Married," he repeats. "Married! She's, what, twenty-five? And she's supposed to be getting married to— to a guy who wanted her to throw her entire life away to—"

"I shouldn't have told you anything."

"—what, pay his bills?!"

He breathes in deeply and takes a big bite out of his muffin, knowing the sugar will help him cool down.

It must be quite a picture, his beard covered in crumbs while he munches angrily, because CJ looks at him like she’s about to burst into laughter.

“What?”

"I swear to god between you and Josh the girl’s got more protection than a mafia daughter.”

"Josh knows?," that explains a lot, he thinks. "You're not very good at keeping secrets are you."

"Listen pal, I am very good at it, I just... She needed help, okay?"

"And you think we’re the right people to help her?"

He's not being skeptical, he really isn't. But Donna’s far away from home, and she’s bound to be missing more substantial support. It is true that CJ has a way of making him feel better by just being there, though, and to be fair it is a general talent of hers. Regardless of his protests both her and Josh, they do this, somehow. They arrive, arguing over something tiny, and he forgets he’s worried about anything.

"Yeah, I mean," she shrugs, "isn’t that what friends are for?"

Toby looks up ahead at the people who came around the shop, and all the way here, too, just to keep each other company.

“I think it might work,” CJ concludes.

Between their party and the sugar in his system, he can’t remember what was it that upset him so much that morning.

They all sit on a big table outside the shop, still discussing seasonal lattes. Sam remembers some of his favorites, recalling one or two that never came back another year. Ginger and Bonnie share hot chocolate recipes, and Donna makes notes.

The sun settles itself in the sky and shines down warmly. The District starts moving faster, getting into the gears of the day.

Their regular opening hour approaches.

CJ rises from her place beside Toby and motions with her head for Josh to follow her.

“It's been nice to be robbed blind by a coffee shop chain for your benefit, but we better get to work.”

“Thanks for coming around,” Donna tells her, “I've been having a couple of rough days and…this helped.”

“You should come up to the shop, if it happens again,” CJ says. “Just to hang around. There's always someone there to keep you company.”

“Come today, even,” Josh completes, “I think Amy might not murder me if there’s witnesses.”

“Today's probably not gonna happen,” Donna answers, “We'll be doing some new arrangements, for a while, Dr. Bartlett called.”

“MD or PhD?”

“It’s a lot of work anyway, so does it really matter?”

Josh smiles, shaking his head, “I guess not.”

Is there someone he didn't call?, Toby thinks.

Josh and CJ bid the rest of the table goodbye and head in the direction of their shop. The conversation around them resumes, but Donna is chewing on her lips instead of jumping in to refute Sam's argumentation over croissants.

She steals a glance to watch their backs retreat on the sidewalk, but, before they can get too far, Donna bolts from her seat and stops Josh with a hand on his forearm.

“Josh.”

He stops and looks back. “Yeah?”

She hesitates. When she speaks, it is just loud enough for him to hear.

"Why did you ask about the magnolias?"

She notices she’s still holding him by his shirt and lets go of it, but Josh slides his hand into hers. "Someone came into the shop yesterday to get them done. They reminded me of you.”

He gives her hand a squeeze, that she returns. They share a smile.

“Maybe I could come around tomorrow?,” she says.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Yeah, I think I’d like that. See you tomorrow, then.”

A few steps behind Josh, CJ is watching them, too.

She finds Toby's gaze, when Josh releases Donna's hand to join her. And gives him a wink.

He laughs at the ridiculousness of it, at how warm it makes him feel. But something in the gesture between him makes him believe that there are better days ahead. For all of them.

He turns back to the table around him and when Donna sits down he finally gives in— “You’re all delusional, black forest is just chocolate and cherry, it tastes the same anywhere.”

—starting another round of protests that leads to laughter and lively conversation that lasts the rest of the day.