WIP: WW - Part the Second *g*
Jul. 6th, 2003 03:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereHmmm... I'm tired, my tenses are slipping and I should have made my way into the wide world a couple hours ago. *yawn*
Why do WW fics invariably feel like a page of dialogue? These boys talk, and in my attempt to get it written down, I don't think I manage to set the scene at all. All the same, here's the next bit. The first bit can be found here.
***
WW: Untitled Josh/Sam fic
He sighed. "Ainsley could help."
"No. I can do it." There was something there. Something about the determined flint to his voice, the steel in that blue gaze. It was in the tense set of Sam's shoulders, and the white knuckled grip on his pen. "Besides, Tribbey's office is working on their own recommendations. I get to review theirs afterwards."
"Then come back to the office later. Do it then. But come out with me now." Josh knew he'd won by the small defeated sigh, by the slouching of shirt-covered shoulders. He couldn't resist smirking and added, "Since you're paying, you might as well drive."
"Fine." At least that got a quick smile out of Sam, slightly too sharp around the edges but a smile nonetheless. Sam shrugged his shoulders into his dark coat and rifled in his briefcase, retrieving his wallet and keys.
"You're not going to tidy your desk?"
"Nah. I'll come back in later and do it." Sam flicked off his office light, and then said, "Okay, let's go."
Sam strode down the hallways and past security in silence, with Josh easily keeping pace, occasionally glancing at his friend. Charcoal suit and pale grey shirt, the strong line of his jaw tense, the movements just a little too controlled for Sam. He looked tired and a little stressed, almost as if he had been waiting for a fight all day, but none of the other staff seemed to notice. He wondered if maybe he was seeing something that wasn't there. A new side-effect of PTSD: jumping straight to mild panic when people show up unannounced at your door. He had to smile at that thought.
Sam noticed the smile, asking, "What?" Josh just shook his head. How do you explain to someone that you think you may be developing a fear of unexpected visitors?
The night air was crisp as he waited for Sam to unlock his car doors. "C'mon man, it's freezing out here," Josh said, blowing on his hands as Sam managed to drop his keys and bent to pick them up.
"Why didn't you wear your coat?"
Josh jumped in the car the second the central locking clicked. "It was warm this morning. I didn't need it." Sam raised an eyebrow at this, so he continued. "Okay, I forgot it, and I figured it wasn't worth going back to get it. But it was warm this morning." Sam looked at him disbelievingly and started the car.
When they pulled up to a diner a few minutes later, Josh couldn't resist a wisecrack. "So we're dining a la Denny's? And I thought you had taste."
"You expected me to pay for an expensive meal for you?" Sam's tone was slightly incredulous but mischief gleamed in his eyes.
"I should have known better."
"Just be glad we're not getting hot dogs." As they stepped into the climate-controlled diner, Josh appreciated the warmth. Finding a booth near the window, they sat quickly, and for once Josh was surprised by speedy service. The waitress came up to them, a sandy blonde who looked like she'd barely started college, and then impersonally asked them for their order.
"Hamburger with the lot. Fries and a coffee." Josh ordered without looking at the menu. He'd had enough meals in these places to know they always have a hamburger with the lot, and that generally it's pretty good. Sam was still deliberating over the menu. "Are you ordering anytime soon?"
"So speaks he of the sensitive constitution." Sam said, without looking up.
"Yeah, well, that's alcohol, not food. Besides, which one of us has ordered?" Sam looked up and glared at him, but it had no real malice behind it. "C'mon, Sam, you're holding up," he paused for a second to read the waitress's nametag, "Michelle." The comment earned him a set of smiles, a sweet one from Michelle (nice to see the Lyman charm still working) and an indulgent one from Sam.
"Fine. Go ahead," Sam said, handing the menu to Michelle. "I'm at your gastronomical mercy."
He turned to Michelle and ordered. "Make that two hamburgers with the lot, with fries and coffee. One without onions," he finished, gesturing to Sam. After writing the order down, she left them alone.
"I can't believe you remembered I don't like onions on hamburgers," Sam said, vaguely impressed.
"I remember a lot," Josh replied softly, and surprised himself. Shaking his head, he blamed it on the lack of sleep. He knew better than to allow conversations with Sam to become too... fond. "So what time did you get in this morning? Bonnie said you were in before her."
"Yeah. Couldn't get to sleep, so I decided to just go straight in. Might as well work if I'm awake." Sam looked down at the table, playing with the packets of sugar.
"So what was the big deal?"
Sam's head shot up, and there was a flash of surprise, or guilt, before he shook his head. "Nothing."
"You woke me up for nothing? In that case, you're a pretty lousy friend, Sam." Or maybe that should have been a pretty, lousy friend, Josh thought, watching the harsh lights play on Sam's rather classical bone structure. The guy had always been too attractive for his own good, and Josh was happy to be distracted from his thoughts by the arrival of food. The chips were a bit too hot, the coffee was a bit too cold, but the hamburger was good. "So?"
"It was just... You know how it is. You can't sleep, you toss and turn in the early hours of the morning, and then you have an epiphany. One of those late night revelations that makes perfect sense and you have the irrational urge to share it with someone."
"Well, now that I'm awake, please feel free to share," Josh said as he picked up his hamburger.
Sam picked at his fries, slowly eating one in three bites. "The Chaos Theory is right. You know about the Chaos Theory, right?"
Josh shook his head and swallowed. "Nope. I know as much about science as I do about wildlife. I make up for it with charm, good looks and a thorough knowledge of our political system."
"Well, the basic idea is that even in chaos, you find patterns. Sometimes the patterns are too extensive, or too infinitesimal, to be seen and understood, but they're still there." He watched Sam warm to his topic, occasionally pointing with his fries to draw attention to a point. "Even in the midst of absolutely pandemonium, the universe still follows rules, there's still a system in place. It only looks chaotic to those outside."
"And my knowledge of politics comes back into play. So basically, the universe is like Congress. It makes sense, but only if you know the rules it works by. Otherwise, it just looks like a mess."
Sam beams at him. "Exactly. The system is always there, and even when things appear random, they're done for a reason. It follows a set course of probability, and everything within the system works towards that." Sam stopped for a sip of his coffee and grimaced at the taste. "However, the end result will always depend on what the rules are and the initial conditions. How it starts has a big effect on how it finishes."
"Okay... what? Run that by me again."
"If you have the wrong initial conditions, the results will always be wrong. The universe follows the system but it relies upon the original circumstances. It's like doing a complex algebra equation and solving for x." Josh nodded at this comment; mathematics was something he could follow easily. "So, you get given the equation, and you know the rules. You apply the rules, and each step you take is reasoned and logical, but the answer is wrong. So what do you do?" Sam waited for Josh to speak.
"You sit down and do it again. Or look over what you've done to find the mistake." This was simple stuff. He wondered if he was actually going to have to solve the equation to prove Sam's point.
"You check your workings, and each step. Each step is right, but the answer's still wrong. It doesn't matter how many times you calculate it, or how many different ways you follow the rules, the answers still wrong."
"Why?"
"Because when you were given the equation, you thought the eight was a six. So every time you worked it out, you applied the rules to the six and got the wrong answer. It doesn't matter how many times you try it, the answer will always be wrong because the initial conditions were wrong."
"In that case, Donna's handwriting was wrong. It wasn't anything to do with me."
"Exactly. You took the right steps and you did the best that you knew how to do. Each small choice that you made was right, but in the end, the final decision was always wrong. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't make it work, because you were always at a disadvantage. You never knew how it should have been. So you couldn't make it right, regardless of how much you wanted to." For a moment, Josh was mesmerised by the conviction, the certainty, in Sam's low voice.
Then he had the sudden realisation that Sam hasn't been talking about abstract theories, and he hadn't been imagining that something was wrong. "What happened?"
Sam just shook his head, closing his eyes for a long second as he turned towards the window. "It doesn't matter." He stopped, and Josh could almost see Sam physically pull himself together. Then Sam looked down at the untouched hamburger sitting on his plate, the now cold coffee and the few scattered fries. "Josh, I'm really not hungry and I've got work to do..."
"Sam."
Sam didn't look at him, and just pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow, Josh," Sam said as he stood up to leave.
"Sam, could you give me a lift back?" He quickly emptied his cup, and picked up the last handful of fries.
"What?"
"I didn't drive out here. My car's back at the White House."
"Oh." Sam looked slightly shocked, as if he'd forgotten about that fact as he made his hasty retreat. "Sure. You ready to go?"
"Yeah." Josh stood up as Sam gave a twenty to the waitress, and then followed Sam to his car. "It's still freezing, you know." He said it because he couldn't think of anything else to say, but it was enough to make Sam look him in the eye and attempt a smile.
"Tomorrow morning, remember your coat."
***
Fixed up the obvious errors, because posting without spellchecking is just lazy. Still, I'm working on five hours sleep, so if there's any stupid errors, please let me know. (There's bound to be a few past to present tense changes still in there.)
Hmmm... I'll probably write more of this night (ideally ending in something a little smutty) but we'll see. If I try not to overthink and overplan it, I may actually get it finished. *g*
Okay, time for Real Life. Bring on the cute young queer things. (Well, they'll be uni-student queer boys and girls, so there's a possiblity for cute and young.) I'm trying to get enthused. All I want to do is to crawl into bed...
ETA: So, I've edited it a bit, but I still haven't had a shower. RL just has nothing that intrigues me as much as fandom... at this particular moment in time, at least.
ETA2: Fixed a few more errors that Signe spotted. Thanks. (Sometimes, it's hard to believe I have even basic knowledge of grammar and sentence construction. *g*)
Why do WW fics invariably feel like a page of dialogue? These boys talk, and in my attempt to get it written down, I don't think I manage to set the scene at all. All the same, here's the next bit. The first bit can be found here.
***
WW: Untitled Josh/Sam fic
He sighed. "Ainsley could help."
"No. I can do it." There was something there. Something about the determined flint to his voice, the steel in that blue gaze. It was in the tense set of Sam's shoulders, and the white knuckled grip on his pen. "Besides, Tribbey's office is working on their own recommendations. I get to review theirs afterwards."
"Then come back to the office later. Do it then. But come out with me now." Josh knew he'd won by the small defeated sigh, by the slouching of shirt-covered shoulders. He couldn't resist smirking and added, "Since you're paying, you might as well drive."
"Fine." At least that got a quick smile out of Sam, slightly too sharp around the edges but a smile nonetheless. Sam shrugged his shoulders into his dark coat and rifled in his briefcase, retrieving his wallet and keys.
"You're not going to tidy your desk?"
"Nah. I'll come back in later and do it." Sam flicked off his office light, and then said, "Okay, let's go."
Sam strode down the hallways and past security in silence, with Josh easily keeping pace, occasionally glancing at his friend. Charcoal suit and pale grey shirt, the strong line of his jaw tense, the movements just a little too controlled for Sam. He looked tired and a little stressed, almost as if he had been waiting for a fight all day, but none of the other staff seemed to notice. He wondered if maybe he was seeing something that wasn't there. A new side-effect of PTSD: jumping straight to mild panic when people show up unannounced at your door. He had to smile at that thought.
Sam noticed the smile, asking, "What?" Josh just shook his head. How do you explain to someone that you think you may be developing a fear of unexpected visitors?
The night air was crisp as he waited for Sam to unlock his car doors. "C'mon man, it's freezing out here," Josh said, blowing on his hands as Sam managed to drop his keys and bent to pick them up.
"Why didn't you wear your coat?"
Josh jumped in the car the second the central locking clicked. "It was warm this morning. I didn't need it." Sam raised an eyebrow at this, so he continued. "Okay, I forgot it, and I figured it wasn't worth going back to get it. But it was warm this morning." Sam looked at him disbelievingly and started the car.
When they pulled up to a diner a few minutes later, Josh couldn't resist a wisecrack. "So we're dining a la Denny's? And I thought you had taste."
"You expected me to pay for an expensive meal for you?" Sam's tone was slightly incredulous but mischief gleamed in his eyes.
"I should have known better."
"Just be glad we're not getting hot dogs." As they stepped into the climate-controlled diner, Josh appreciated the warmth. Finding a booth near the window, they sat quickly, and for once Josh was surprised by speedy service. The waitress came up to them, a sandy blonde who looked like she'd barely started college, and then impersonally asked them for their order.
"Hamburger with the lot. Fries and a coffee." Josh ordered without looking at the menu. He'd had enough meals in these places to know they always have a hamburger with the lot, and that generally it's pretty good. Sam was still deliberating over the menu. "Are you ordering anytime soon?"
"So speaks he of the sensitive constitution." Sam said, without looking up.
"Yeah, well, that's alcohol, not food. Besides, which one of us has ordered?" Sam looked up and glared at him, but it had no real malice behind it. "C'mon, Sam, you're holding up," he paused for a second to read the waitress's nametag, "Michelle." The comment earned him a set of smiles, a sweet one from Michelle (nice to see the Lyman charm still working) and an indulgent one from Sam.
"Fine. Go ahead," Sam said, handing the menu to Michelle. "I'm at your gastronomical mercy."
He turned to Michelle and ordered. "Make that two hamburgers with the lot, with fries and coffee. One without onions," he finished, gesturing to Sam. After writing the order down, she left them alone.
"I can't believe you remembered I don't like onions on hamburgers," Sam said, vaguely impressed.
"I remember a lot," Josh replied softly, and surprised himself. Shaking his head, he blamed it on the lack of sleep. He knew better than to allow conversations with Sam to become too... fond. "So what time did you get in this morning? Bonnie said you were in before her."
"Yeah. Couldn't get to sleep, so I decided to just go straight in. Might as well work if I'm awake." Sam looked down at the table, playing with the packets of sugar.
"So what was the big deal?"
Sam's head shot up, and there was a flash of surprise, or guilt, before he shook his head. "Nothing."
"You woke me up for nothing? In that case, you're a pretty lousy friend, Sam." Or maybe that should have been a pretty, lousy friend, Josh thought, watching the harsh lights play on Sam's rather classical bone structure. The guy had always been too attractive for his own good, and Josh was happy to be distracted from his thoughts by the arrival of food. The chips were a bit too hot, the coffee was a bit too cold, but the hamburger was good. "So?"
"It was just... You know how it is. You can't sleep, you toss and turn in the early hours of the morning, and then you have an epiphany. One of those late night revelations that makes perfect sense and you have the irrational urge to share it with someone."
"Well, now that I'm awake, please feel free to share," Josh said as he picked up his hamburger.
Sam picked at his fries, slowly eating one in three bites. "The Chaos Theory is right. You know about the Chaos Theory, right?"
Josh shook his head and swallowed. "Nope. I know as much about science as I do about wildlife. I make up for it with charm, good looks and a thorough knowledge of our political system."
"Well, the basic idea is that even in chaos, you find patterns. Sometimes the patterns are too extensive, or too infinitesimal, to be seen and understood, but they're still there." He watched Sam warm to his topic, occasionally pointing with his fries to draw attention to a point. "Even in the midst of absolutely pandemonium, the universe still follows rules, there's still a system in place. It only looks chaotic to those outside."
"And my knowledge of politics comes back into play. So basically, the universe is like Congress. It makes sense, but only if you know the rules it works by. Otherwise, it just looks like a mess."
Sam beams at him. "Exactly. The system is always there, and even when things appear random, they're done for a reason. It follows a set course of probability, and everything within the system works towards that." Sam stopped for a sip of his coffee and grimaced at the taste. "However, the end result will always depend on what the rules are and the initial conditions. How it starts has a big effect on how it finishes."
"Okay... what? Run that by me again."
"If you have the wrong initial conditions, the results will always be wrong. The universe follows the system but it relies upon the original circumstances. It's like doing a complex algebra equation and solving for x." Josh nodded at this comment; mathematics was something he could follow easily. "So, you get given the equation, and you know the rules. You apply the rules, and each step you take is reasoned and logical, but the answer is wrong. So what do you do?" Sam waited for Josh to speak.
"You sit down and do it again. Or look over what you've done to find the mistake." This was simple stuff. He wondered if he was actually going to have to solve the equation to prove Sam's point.
"You check your workings, and each step. Each step is right, but the answer's still wrong. It doesn't matter how many times you calculate it, or how many different ways you follow the rules, the answers still wrong."
"Why?"
"Because when you were given the equation, you thought the eight was a six. So every time you worked it out, you applied the rules to the six and got the wrong answer. It doesn't matter how many times you try it, the answer will always be wrong because the initial conditions were wrong."
"In that case, Donna's handwriting was wrong. It wasn't anything to do with me."
"Exactly. You took the right steps and you did the best that you knew how to do. Each small choice that you made was right, but in the end, the final decision was always wrong. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't make it work, because you were always at a disadvantage. You never knew how it should have been. So you couldn't make it right, regardless of how much you wanted to." For a moment, Josh was mesmerised by the conviction, the certainty, in Sam's low voice.
Then he had the sudden realisation that Sam hasn't been talking about abstract theories, and he hadn't been imagining that something was wrong. "What happened?"
Sam just shook his head, closing his eyes for a long second as he turned towards the window. "It doesn't matter." He stopped, and Josh could almost see Sam physically pull himself together. Then Sam looked down at the untouched hamburger sitting on his plate, the now cold coffee and the few scattered fries. "Josh, I'm really not hungry and I've got work to do..."
"Sam."
Sam didn't look at him, and just pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow, Josh," Sam said as he stood up to leave.
"Sam, could you give me a lift back?" He quickly emptied his cup, and picked up the last handful of fries.
"What?"
"I didn't drive out here. My car's back at the White House."
"Oh." Sam looked slightly shocked, as if he'd forgotten about that fact as he made his hasty retreat. "Sure. You ready to go?"
"Yeah." Josh stood up as Sam gave a twenty to the waitress, and then followed Sam to his car. "It's still freezing, you know." He said it because he couldn't think of anything else to say, but it was enough to make Sam look him in the eye and attempt a smile.
"Tomorrow morning, remember your coat."
***
Fixed up the obvious errors, because posting without spellchecking is just lazy. Still, I'm working on five hours sleep, so if there's any stupid errors, please let me know. (There's bound to be a few past to present tense changes still in there.)
Hmmm... I'll probably write more of this night (ideally ending in something a little smutty) but we'll see. If I try not to overthink and overplan it, I may actually get it finished. *g*
Okay, time for Real Life. Bring on the cute young queer things. (Well, they'll be uni-student queer boys and girls, so there's a possiblity for cute and young.) I'm trying to get enthused. All I want to do is to crawl into bed...
ETA: So, I've edited it a bit, but I still haven't had a shower. RL just has nothing that intrigues me as much as fandom... at this particular moment in time, at least.
ETA2: Fixed a few more errors that Signe spotted. Thanks. (Sometimes, it's hard to believe I have even basic knowledge of grammar and sentence construction. *g*)
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WIP part 2
Date: 2003-07-06 02:57 am (UTC)I loved the little word play in Josh's mind: Or maybe that should have been a pretty, lousy friend, Josh thought, and the way he flirts with the waitress.
A couple of typos spotted:
"Sam, you could give me a lift back." should probably be "Sam, could you give me a lift back?" and You check you workings should be You check your workings.
Re: WIP part 2
Date: 2003-07-06 08:52 am (UTC)They're both math geeks. Anyone who stops to try to work out the probability of a reporter getting called in a poll, is a math geek. *g*
To me it works wonderfully well as a dialogue driven story, because that's how the characters are - words are important to them.
Thank you. It's always a concern I have with WW fic is that it's all dialogue. Personally, I love stories where you get that physical sense of what they're doing, of where they are, blended into the rest of the story. When I write WW, I get an idea of the dialogue, but have more trouble with the scenery. And I have the fear that it'll end up sounding like, "Sam said...; Josh said...; Sam said...;" and really boring.
So, basically, a big hug for the reassurance!
I loved the little word play in Josh's mind: Or maybe that should have been a pretty, lousy friend, Josh thought, and the way he flirts with the waitress.
Yay! I wasn't sure if it would work (the pretty thing), so yay. And, he's a natural flirt. Josh can't help it. Although, I have to say that Sam's pretty charming too.
A couple of typos spotted...
*grrrr* You have no idea how many times I edited and reposted this entry, because I kept spotting little mistakes. At least I seem to have picked up on most of the tense changes.
Thanks for pointing those two out. *g*