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Josh looked about him anxiously and whispered. “Well, you’ve got to stop. Stop right now.”
Sam blinked, “Okay. Why?”
Josh jerked his head in the direction of the giant laptop that always seemed to be hovering over their heads. “Because…”
“She’s not…”
Josh nodded.
“But she stopped.”
“Well she started again,”
“Oh bugger. Not a word since February and now she’s off again. Are you sure? How do you know?”
“My mother just died and I’m having a flashback.”
“Josh,” Sam was dismayed. “You put all that behind you.”
“Well, what about you. I’ve just been by your apartment and you need to redecorate in a melancholy colour.”
“Again! But the paints barely dry from the last –“
“And look.” Josh went to the window and pulled back the blinds.
“Raining.” Sam sighed and reluctantly relinquished his balanced breakfast, lit a cigarette and poured himself a Jack Daniels. “Perfect. Right okay. We can do this. It’ll come back to us. It’s probably Christmas. Do you want to go get the lights out of the loft and I’ll get drunk and say something I’ll regret in the morning.”
Josh shook his head “No time for that.”
Sam looked at him carefully, “You’re not smashing the window are you? Because it takes ages to get the blood out of the rug.”
“No, but I think I’m having a heart attack. It won’t kill me but it’ll change my perspective on life forever.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Got it. ER then. Lets go.”
As they put on their poetically long and oversized winter coats a chill descended on the room. A spectral figure appeared in the corner waving its arms about and clanking its chains.
“What now?” Josh asked. “No wonder I’m having a heart attack.”
“It’s a spectral figure.”
“I bet it’s the ghost of our lost years.”
“Nah, too obvious.”
“All right then genius, you explain it.”
Sam ran his fingers thoughtfully through his hair, pondered the question for a while and then gave up. “Aren’t you supposed to be having a thing.”
“You don’t know either,” Josh said with some satisfaction.
Sam glared at him and opened the apartment door. A blizzard raging outside blew it fast shut.
He gathered his strength and opened the door again. This time a camel chewing slowly gazed back at him. He slammed the door shut.
“That really gives me the hump,” he said, chuckling.
“Can I do my ‘statue of Osiris’ joke?”
“No.”
“This sucks.”
Sam opened the door one more time, much more carefully. This time two scary looking men with guns stood there looking dangerous and republican. He slammed it shut, even more quickly.
“Christ, CIA,” he muttered. “I’m getting too old for this.”
He looked at Josh who was quietly slashing his wrists.
“Look, how sick are you?”
“I’m okay.” Then he remembered himself. “I mean, I mean – something brave and witty that I’ll think of later.”
Sam came to a decision. “Look, screw this. We don’t have to keep following these self-destructive patterns. In other people’s stories really good stuff happens to make up for all the trauma. I mean why don’t we –“
“What -?”
“Why don’t we…you know…”
“You mean…?” Josh gradually got the message. “Woohoo! About time too.” Rather surreptitiously, he began to take his coat off. “Have you got y’know, condoms and lube and kinky leather stuff?” He whispered.
Sam smiled and said in an equally low voice. “You bet, I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.” He shook his head. “And I do mean years. No sex since 2001.”
Sam grabbed Josh’s hand and they crossed the room. They opened all the doors in the apartment, one by one peering into each room; study, broom cupboard, Leo’s office, Frankenstein’s laboratory. Eventually they looked at each other incredulously.
“No bedroom!” Josh exclaimed, “I can’t believe it. No sodding bedroom.”
Sam dismissed this. “We don’t need a bedroom.” He grabbed Josh and pushed him on to the couch, kissing him and undoing his pants at the same time.
Suddenly all the furniture in the room disappeared and they crashed to floor in a heap. The walls vanished next, and then the floor around them began to get smaller and smaller and then Josh and Sam disappeared into nothing.
“Sam? Are you there?” said a disembodied voice.
“Yeah, Josh? Right here,” said another.
“Well, this is just typical,”
“Should have guessed it,”
“They call it a fade to black, you know.”
“Well yes, I’ve had a few years to work that one out.”
“Spoils all our fun.”
“Every time the same. Every buggering time”
“Goodbye Sam.”
“Goodbye Josh.”
And they both popped resignedly out of existence.
end (mwahaha)
back to west wing
back home
jackie
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