Title: 10 Summoners Tales: Fields of Gold

Author: xSaBx
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Part Two of Three.

The title really doesn't have that much relevance here; it's been "commandeered" to allow me to fit this three-parter into the arc. Lars, we need to talk about Norwegian for 2002...:->

Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, Part Two, set-up for the conclusion, we get to see people we've not seen before from Mr S's Universe and I get to experiment a little with style. Lots of relevant information...

Spoilers: Season One stuff, ITSOTG.

Disclaimers: Evie, Morag and Max are mine. The rest by now you know are Mr Sorkin's

Thanks: Blimey, I have a small legion of fans now, you know who you all are: this is for you all...It's good to know people appreciate this stuff. Ta.

Category: New Characters/General

They all lived together in the Big White Palace at the centre of the Enchanted City, and on most days their lives were very happy and contented. There were days, however, when things were not as sunny.

==

Today is my birthday, and for the second time in as many years I wish I were somewhere else, I wish I could simply wink out of existence and travel to a safer, warmer place for a while, reappearing in three months or so when all this is over. I don't want to die this time: when I lost Richard I thought about it. I considered the possibility of ending my life, so I could be with him. It took me a while to comprehend what had happened, to grasp the fact that he was taken and I had to live with that fact, not run away from it.

I'm listening to the CD that Max made me that was partially responsible for getting me through that time. The music is inspirational, but it's also reflective...Max said it would help me maintain a sense of perspective, and he was right. With my eyes tight shut I can pretend in my head that the world simply doesn't exist, and it's just the Universe and me. We are here, together. If I concentrate hard enough I can imagine my very own Handsome Prince, standing behind me. He slips his arms around my waist and hugs me, tight and warm. For brief moments I can walk away and relax, and find the strength I need to do the next bit. I'm guessing I'm going to need a lot of strength today.

There's a hand on mine: I open my eyes and instantly appreciate the fact I'm wearing sunglasses. It's a bright and sunny day in DC. CJ has parked and it's time to work. She looks at me with gentle appreciation. She insisted on bringing me in today, and for this and so much more I'm grateful. I don't know what I'd have done during the last week or so without her.

"Okay kiddo, time to get in there and get on with it"

Things were just so much easier when I was young: I didn't have to worry about lawsuits and public opinion and appearance and responsibility, all I had to consider was who exactly got to live Happily Ever After. If I get through this day in one piece and actually want to come back here tomorrow that'll be as happy an ending as I can ever hope to achieve.

==

He had sent a messenger to the city in the North, and had summoned an old friend of his and the Princess, a Scribe who had spent many years in the wilderness trying to understand his place in this World. He had spent many days and nights searching high and low, trying to find a spell that would destroy the Magical Child and so save the Princess' honour. As he travelled from the Inn, in which he had spent the night, to the Big White Palace he felt certain that he had information that would help them both find the spell they were searching for.

==

You think you know someone...Max, you really didn't know anything. Don't feel bad though, it wasn't just you he was lying to, it was everyone.

I've got about ten minutes before I reach the White House, and I'm in the back of the cab looking through the last of the stuff I've managed to pull together for Sam. I wish there was far more pleasant reading in here, but there isn't. After twenty years I really thought there was nothing about my best friend that could surprise me...I honestly believed I had him marked. I knew he had a flip side, but...I had really no idea that he was quite as devious and vicious as he undoubtedly was. Part of me now would like to see him proclaimed as the father of Eloise's child, quite simply because I feel they really do deserve each other. She's a money-grabbing bitch, and he's a two-faced bastard. It never, ever occurred to me that he might be lying. Just shows how juiced up I used to be.

However, this isn't about him any more, this is about his widow, and that changes the whole picture. I have to decide what I tell her, and if indeed I actually say anything at all. I'll need to talk to Sam about that, he's closer to her at the moment than I am. Personally I'd like to shield her from as much additional grief as is possible. What I do need right now is a couple of favours from him. I need to surreptitiously use the not inconsiderable resources the White House has to offer: there has to be some evidence that points the finger of blame away from this man. If I had my way however, I'd make him responsible for this and a lot more if he were still here.

It's 10.15 am, I'm nervous, and I could do with a drink.

I'll live with it.

==

As was traditional on the birthday of anyone who lived in the Palace, the Princess' first task of the day was to visit the King.

==

"Good Morning, Charlie"

"Good Morning, Mrs Parker"

I don't get to see Charlie Young as much as perhaps I should, which is a shame, as I like the President's Bodyman a lot. Considering the grief he's suffered during his twenty-one years on the planet I really don't have that many problems at all. He's standing next to Mrs Landingham's desk, sorting through the President's now rapidly changing morning schedule.

"How are we doing?"

"We're re-arranging as quickly as we can."

Bernard Dahl, the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, and the overseer of the longest period of peacetime economic growth on record has just had his fifth and final heart attack. The markets are in chaos, as is the Oval Office.

"Happy Birthday, by the way"

"Thank you Charlie"

"How old are you now?"

"You should know better than to ask a lady her age, Charlie" Mrs Landingham looks at the young man disapprovingly "All women are twenty-one years old, no more or less, that's the rule once you pass thirty" Mrs L hands me a small box as I stand by her desk, and smiles as she uses her other hand to open her cookie jar "As it's a special occasion, you can take two. Happy Birthday Evie."

"Thank you" I am suitably honoured, and waste no time in securing my ration.

I'm waiting to see the President: he's already had a security briefing interrupted, by rights he should be in a foul mood...

"Evelyn!"

Josiah Bartlet almost bounds out of the Oval Office. Things are looking up.

"Good Morning Mr President"

"Inform me please of three noteworthy events that occurred on this day in history"

I had a feeling I might be asked, so I came prepared.

"Okay, for the historian in you...on this day in...1765 I believe, Great Britain enacted the Stamp Act to raise money from the American colonies"

"Look where that got you"

"The British have always been good at getting themselves into a fight, Mr President. Congress outlawed polygamy on this day in 1882"

"The Americans have always been good at ruining their own enjoyment" The President is enjoying this. "You have one more?"

I saved this particular one until last for a reason.

"On this day in 1895..."

"...Auguste and Louis Lumiere showed their first moving picture to an invited audience in Paris, France. I thought that one might be of particular interest to you."

"When people saw their film of a train pulling into a station they seriously believed that the engine was hurtling towards them. People ran away in fear. We really have come a long way in the last hundred years"

"Indeed we have."

He looks at me curiously.

"How are we doing?"

"We, Mr President, are okay. Under the circumstances this is shaping up to be an acceptable day"

"I have to talk to you about the Met fundraiser later, yes?"

"I'm scheduled at one-thirty"

"I will try very hard to remain in a good mood until then"

"Thank you Mr President"

"A Happy Birthday to you, Evelyn"

"Try to have a good morning"

He disappears back into the Oval Office.

==

A little later, in another part of the Big White Palace, the Housekeeper's Apprentice was trying to understand why the pretty maiden he had finally managed to woo the night before had lost all interest for him.

==

"Josh!"

Joey is talking to me: Kenny is doing the talking, of course...but it's Joey who wants my attention.

"What did you say?"

Joey looks pissed, the same expression she had when I left her hotel room last night. I think this has to count as a first for me: she was happy for me to spend the night, to even stay for breakfast...but I couldn't. I couldn't tell her why, after an hour of fairly involved foreplay and the removal of most of our clothing, I suddenly felt unhappy and decided to leave.

"You're not concentrating"

She speaks at me, slowly and deliberately, to make sure I understand.

"I know. I'm sorry"

We're getting nowhere fast here, and we've been looking through these figures for nearly an hour. I need to talk to her, alone, and try and work out what happened. As I look up Kenny is already walking out. I watch him close the door behind him, then turn back to her.

Her expression immediately softens.

"What happened? Last night, what was wrong?"

"Something's going on, I can't talk to you about it. It's not official, it's personal: not to me... to someone else"

"Evelyn?"

Her name sounds almost mystical when Joey says it.

"I know, she's somewhere else too" Joey sits for a moment, just looking at me. She's considering her next question.

"Josh, I need you to be honest"

I really wanna be honest, but I'm not actually sure I'm capable. I've spent a large portion of the last week lying to all my support staff, on and off to Donna and even to my mom about what's going on. I'm beginning to have difficulty in working out where the truth ends and where the lies start, or should that the other way round?

"We're friends, yes?"

"Yes, of course we are..."

"But that's it? You don't feel anything else?"

"Joey, I really like you"

"But that's it?"

She's got me. I would have taken advantage of her last night, I would have slept with her to make myself feel better, to take my mind away from the problems of the here and now. Love, respect or desire would not have come into the equation. It would have been a reflex. It would have been no different than standing in the washroom on Air Force One...

"That's it."

"Then I'm glad you left. This way we still can stay friends"

"We can?"

"Josh, I think better of you because you left, than I would have done if you had stayed. I would have taken advantage of you, too. I don't like relationships that begin that way"

I smile at her, a gesture of understanding. I suddenly feel a whole lot happier than I did; a weight has lifted from my mind and body. She smiles, she's satisfied. She is smart, cute and funny, but it's not enough. There's something missing, a piece that doesn't exist in this particular package. I need to look elsewhere for an answer.

==

==

This day has gone to Hell at high speed.

The First Lady, miffed at her child-labour story being bumped down the headlines as a result of Bernard Dahl's demise, decided to leak her preference for Robert Ehrlich as his successor, knowing full well it would piss off her husband. Of course it duly has, which meant I took the full force of the President's displeasure when I should have been discussing the Metropolitan Opera House Fundraiser. I've just had a ten-minute stand-up row with Lilly Mays, the First Lady's Chief of Staff as a result. Add to this the plan, that Sam has just informed me about from Senator Becky Reeseman, to add a First Lady inspired child-labour amendment to the International Tariff Bill and I just want to close my office door and go hide behind my desk.

Instead, I'm going to go and discuss a phone poll with Joey and CJ.

I'm collecting the necessary paperwork from my desk when there is a knock at the door.

"Unless the person out there has a really big box of chocolates or flowers I'm really not interested..."

"I do have a gift"

Dr Abigail Bartlet is standing in my doorway.

"Hello Evie, how are you doing?"

"Good afternoon, Dr Bartlet"

She looks at me for a long time before she speaks.

"You just had an argument with Lilly that you really should have had with me. I've come here to apologise on behalf of us both"

"I'm not the one you should be apologising to"

"Jed's still way too mad to want to talk about this"

"I can understand why"

I don't want another fight, I just want a quiet life, but I can't have one, so...lets try and make this better.

"I'm sorry, Dr Bartlet. I think it's fair to say I'm really not coping terribly well at the moment. I shouldn't transfer that to anyone else. I should also apologise to you, and to Lilly"

"You don't need to do that, we've both overstepped the mark on this. You're trying to do your job and we're not helping. That's enough to get even the most patient of individuals upset. Tell me how I can help make this better"

"Talk to Becky Reeseman for me, she's planning to put together a child-labour amendment to the International Tariff Bill. The boys have been trying to get this thing through for ever and a day, if she attaches this amendment now..."

"It's done, I'll do it this evening at the reception, okay?"

"Thank you."

Dr Bartlet still hasn't finished

"The Fundraiser at the Met: I think it's an excellent programme. I love Tosca; it's one of my favourite operas. If you make sure Lilly has a copy of everything else you want Jed to look at I'll make sure it gets his full attention later."

That would certainly be one less thing to worry about.

"Thank you, Dr Bartlet, I'd appreciate that"

She hands me a small cardboard box.

"This is something for you, from Jed and I, to thank you for everything you've done since you came here"

Inside the box is a watch, with a delicate face and a thin silver strap. It's quite obviously an antique, and a beautiful one at that. I look at the back and there is an engraving: "J&A with Love, March 2000"

"This is beautiful. Thank you, and please thank the President for me when you're actually talking to each other again"

The comment elicits a smile: Dr Bartlet approaches me and we embrace. Things are, at least in this part of my life, okay again.

==

==

I have the dubious honour of taking two briefings this morning. CJ's having a crown fixed and Sam and I are therefore charged with the duty of looking after the shop while she's away until lunchtime. After Josh's last performance on the podium Leo has banned him from talking to the press: Toby is simply too tied up with the details of Mendoza's confirmation, so it's down to Sam and me. We tossed for the nine am and he lost. As I pass the monitor in the Communications Bullpen I see he's doing okay. We promised not to watch each other.

The whole dynamic of our relationship has radically changed since the events of last Tuesday. From being quite close and reasonably comfortable in our professional relationship we're now able to almost finish each other's sentences: he is the first person I speak to in the morning and the last person I confide in at night. It's almost like being married again, except without the sex and the arguing. Professionally we're seamless: a perfect team. Emotionally we're both shattered and effectively useless. As Sam says, this isn't about being happy, it's about winning. When we win we can be happy, but until then we should concentrate on being focussed.

The rest of our friends have become the perfect support team. CJ is there for me with wisdom and nourishment: ironic when you consider she can't cook that she's made sure I've eaten at least one good meal a day since Saturday, even if I've had to prepare them all. Morag has been superb: she's deflecting a large amount of the normal daily problems away from me or dealing with them herself. So far, nothing has fallen off the table. Max and Sam have almost been inseparable since he arrived: when Sam's not talking to him or actually working he's been in Josh's office. When Josh isn't talking to me in the evenings he's discussing things with Sam and Max. The six of us have formed a bizarre symbiotic circle.

Toby is doing a great job of pretending to be blissfully unaware of just about everything except Mendoza: someone has to look as if they do something significant around here whilst the rest of us are off somewhere else. I've gained a huge amount of respect for the Communications Director in the last week: despite feigning ignorance he knows exactly what's happening, is always aware of the latest developments but still has his eye on the bigger picture. I should be learning more from him than I am.

I knock on his door and stick my head into his office.

"Good Morning Evie"

"Hey, Toby. You wanted me?"

"The appeal was upheld"

"It was?"

"I believe that's what I just said"

"Toby, you are a truly unique and wonderful human being"

"Go away"

"Consider me gone"

"Evie?"

"I'm already going, Toby..."

"Tell Sam I'm impressed"

"Consider him told and congratulated"

I stand outside Toby's closed door and shut my eyes, then say a silent thanks to whatever deity it is that is watching over me for giving us this small but vital break. This will take nearly the entire sting out of the hearing in relation to the White House; it can no longer be seen to as a threat, as an event that could upstage Mendoza's confirmation. No wonder Toby looked pleased. Now it's just about my name being dragged through the dirt.

I need to find Sam, and I finally locate him in CJ's office, checking through the latest wire reports. I look at him and he immediately knows what I've come to tell him: is it that obvious by the wide smile on my face?

"They upheld the appeal?"

"Toby's impressed, and he's not the only one. Congratulations, Sam"

He comes over and lifts me off the ground before hugging me so tightly I think I'm about to burst. I hug him in return, and we stand there for a long time just holding each other, drawing strength from the moment and from the other person's relief.

Sam looks at me and I think for a split second he's his old self again. "This is excellent news: now all we need to do is actually find a way to stop yours and my lives becoming a waking hell for the next six months"

If it were simply about a single victory, this whole thing would be so much easier. Life however, does not work that way.

==

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you pass me a napkin?"

"Sure"

We both slept last night in my office.

It's almost seven am and we sit here, Max and I, eating bagels and trying to work out what we do next. In the forty-eight hours since he got here we've put together a detailed picture of exactly what happened on the night of Saturday, April 4^th 1993, and in the following years up until the day of Richard's death, in an attempt to find any link between Richard and Eloise that could irrefutably disprove the fact that Richard had sired a female heir.

We can find no firm evidence either way, and if we can't find anything I find myself wondering what Eloise's legal team are going to use as evidence to substantiate the claim. The more we dig the less this becomes about that night, and the more it becomes about Richard's double life. As we worked late into the night yesterday President Bartlet came and sat with us for an hour. Max was suitably impressed with his input and his observations...but even with his physical inspiration we are at a dead end.

The worst part of this all is what we will may now have to tell Evie about Richard.

It appears that his promise to keep away from drugs was flimsy and often broken, and that there may well have been another affair that Evie was unaware of. Richard's tastes seem to have tended away from the conventional, and although his life with Evie may have been reasonably normal, his life away from her was far from being so. The woman who we suspect Richard was having his extra-marital affair was a big part of New York's S & M scene. Fortunately for us she passed away in 1997, which means neither side gets to call her as a witness.

Max and I are both healthy and normal when it comes to sexual preferences: we spent an hour this morning comparing notes, just to make sure. Neither of us would want to have anything to do with what Ruth Weitz got up to in her nights away from Gage Witney, or during her trips with Richard to the Far East. Then we spent an hour talking about Evie and how it transpired that we both harboured feelings for her, whilst her husband was off treating her like a doormat. Maybe if one of us had known the truth back then...

"We can't tell her" Max finishes his third bagel and leans back in his chair "We just can't. There has to be some way we can just lose this stuff"

"We have to have covered every option, we need to know everything we can."

"Sam, we've been at this for two days, there's nothing else to know about this: we've covered everything and everyone"

"What about Will Sweitzer?"

Evie is standing in the doorway with a box in her hand. She wears a long grey woollen skirt and a short, black fitted jacket with lace-up boots. She looks infinitely better than she did yesterday.... in fact, she almost glows. Who the hell is Will Sweitzer?

"You two may have slept in this office but I am pleased to say, thanks to CJ and her powers as a masseuse, I slept for eight hours uninterrupted last night. It's amazing what a clear head will do for your powers of recall"

She puts the box down on the table in front of us. I have no idea who Will Sweitzer is, but the name is ringing bells with Max.

"Will...he dated Lauren for a while, didn't he?"

"Yes, then he went back to Seattle. I woke up this morning and went through that list of people you gave me that we know were at the party that night and I realised you'd missed off Will. He came up with Richard and me. We picked him up on the way."

"You wouldn't happen to have an address for him, would you?" I look at Evie hopefully.

She takes the lid off the box, inside is a neatly bound pile of envelopes.

"I decided I'd keep everything from the wedding: on reflection it's probably a bit anal of me, but everything on that day was so special. I can't lie about how I felt that day. I loved him and I know it was the best day of both our lives. Whatever else might happen from hereon in, this is at least one day that will remain perfect"

She unwraps the bundle and sorts through it, stopping at a postcard, which is quite obviously from Seattle.

"We sent him an invite for the wedding but he couldn't make it...he was ill, I think. He sent us an address to send some wedding photos to.

She hands the card to Max.

==

==

"Carol?"

My secretary sticks her head around my office door.

"Do we have the information yet?"

"The State Department are being awkward"

"Remind them we all work for the same person, please, and that if I have to send anyone over there to pick it up before the two o'clock briefing I'll send them a bill"

I am so looking forward to drinking a lot tonight. Ev and I really deserve a long and uninterrupted run at cocktails, white wine...anything. Honestly, at this point I'm not fussed. Just as long as it makes my brain incapable of anything except incoherent babbling, because I'm fed up with having to make sense, when everyone else around me can't even seem to remember what day it is.

We thought long and hard about what we would do to celebrate Ev's birthday: I know she'd like to go out and dance, but as Sam rightly points out, about fifteen times a day in the selected company who knows what's going on, that both him and her have to be careful what they do and where they go until the hearing. So, we're all going to get wasted at my place. At least this means we can invite Max along without it raising too many eyebrows.

I am taking quite a shine to Maxwell, and I'm getting the impression that the feeling may well be mutual. I've always thought Danny was cute, and then when I met Max...well, I know he's a journalist, I know he and Danny are friends...but Max isn't the same breed. He has constancy to Ev that extends far beyond his loyalties as a journalist. He really does value her friendship above the need for a story. In the end it's not about the job, and with Danny it's always been about the job. I can't blame him, I suppose in a way I'm much the same. In the end, however many times he might try and flirt with me, his first concern is to his column. Is that a double entendre? I wish it were. I think I've decided, after the string of hopeless relationships I've endured over the last few years, that I want someone whose first concern is for me: is that selfish? Maybe I need a bit of selfish in my life...

There is another knock on my door.

"Well, thank you Carol, it's about time..."

Max Ellersley is standing in my doorway. Despite the fact I know he slept in Sam's office last night he looks remarkably unrumpled. He also has a medium-sized box in his hand.

"Good Afternoon, CJ"

"Maxwell, Sam's finally let you out: are you done for the day?"

"He apparently needs to work now on stuff that's important to the Country, so I thought I'd actually make use of my Press Pass, as you went to so much trouble to get it for me. I also wanted to give you this before it all gets too messy this evening."

This doesn't look like a goldfish. I'm curious: I open it and find inside a Sacha Franks silk blouse. It's beautiful, and I've wanted it since I saw it. What with one thing and another I've just not had the chance to go buy it.

"Consider this a thanks from Evie's best friend for all the time and love you've given her over the last ten days. I have to admit I had help, in case you think this is a lucky guess and I'm psychically attuned to your clothing needs. I thought it would be better than flowers"

"Trust me, flowers are always a good bet, but this is far sweeter"

I have to give him a kiss for his effort, and as our cheeks touch there is a small spark of static electricity. I've been getting shocks all day: it's these shoes. This one, however...I blush, and quickly try to change the subject

"How much do they pay you at the New York Times? This wasn't cheap"

Max sticks his hands in his pockets and for a moment looks worryingly like Toby "I don't have that much to spend my money on these days, you know. I'm a single guy, my only real interest is sports...anyway, since I stopped drinking I seem to have a lot more disposable income."

He smiles and I find myself being charmed just a little more. I think I'll wear this blouse tonight.

==

==

"Is that new?"

I've not noticed the Star of David before, she wears it in her jacket, but it's not immediately obvious to the eye. Evie takes it slowly and carefully out of her lapel and hands it to me.

"It was a present from Josh"

"Subtle and unobtrusive: that's not like Josh at all"

I hand it back to her and she puts it back in her collar. She looks at me with what I know is disapproval. She's difficult to read sometimes: not like Sam or Josh, who are pretty easy to peg. She's even harder to read at present. I've been relying on Claudia for the correct signals.

"You shouldn't be so harsh on Josh, you know. He thinks the world of you"

"As he does you, considering just how hostile he was when you came here"

"Sam said you were pretty unhappy"

"You're not Mandy, for that fact alone I am ecstatic. You've done the job well, and despite this latest turn of events you've not gone out of your way to do anything detrimental towards the President. It isn't about you, it's about him, and that's the way it should be"

"Not this week, we were lucky to save the Tariff Bill. The First Lady realised her mistake, and she put it right. That could have been awkward"

"You dealt with it, put Lilly in her place. She knows who calls the shots. That's how the chain of command works"

She's still a bit raw; I think that she needs a drink or two. I know I do. I'm looking forward to drinking with her when this is all over, she won't really relax tonight, there's still too much up in the air.

"YES!!!"

The cry is unmistakably Sam's. I look at her, and we are both out of our chairs simultaneously. I get to Sam's office door first, and as it opens we are presented with the site of Sam and Max enthusiastically hugging each other.

I just look at Sam and it's enough to bring him back to reality.

"I think you should both come in and close the door" Max is grinning at Evie.

"What have you found?" Evie's actually shaking, I notice.

"Someone who had sex with Eloise that night, and amazingly someone else who saw it happen"

She and I can only look at each other.

==

==

It's bizarre being sober.

I don't have a problem with it, don't get me wrong. Even with everything that's happened I'm not sitting here wishing I had a beer in my hand. I'm just happy to relax here and not to move a muscle, in case I might wake her.

CJ is asleep on my chest; her arm wrapped around my waist, and has been here so far for the best part of half an hour. She's wearing the blouse I bought her, and it does make her look very desirable. I'm confident she'll have absolutely no memory of this, the amount of gin slings she's consumed...I think that perhaps it's best she doesn't remember, as I'd hate to have to spend the rest of my life having to avoid talking about this moment with her. This, for me, is rapidly becoming one of my best evenings out for a long time...and I'm not even out.

The rest of the gang are scattered around the house. Sam and Toby are sitting opposite me; they're both wasted, totally and utterly. Toby occasionally looks up at me and I swear there's a jealous look in his eye. I'd be willing to bet that she and he have a history of sorts. Tonight is not the time to find out, though. I just want to sit here and enjoy this for what it is.

Josh and Evie are in the kitchen, and neither have drunk that much. There's still too much coherent conversation going on, and that's an interesting development. I'm getting more convinced that he's in trouble, I'm sure I recognise the look he has when he watches her. I used to see it every morning when I shaved, and I think Sam has an inkling that his two friends could be on a collision course. The next seven days will be crucial: Josh was telling me how he'd contrived to be in NY for the day of the hearing. Evie spent an hour this evening telling me how worried she was about Josh because he's never had a steady relationship. The signs are there, and the difference now from where I stand is twofold. I'm now no longer bothered about who she might be looking at as a potential partner. She's also actually looking: for the first time since the death of her lying, despicable bastard of a husband she's thinking about a relationship.

I think they'd make a good partnership.

She can look after herself now, that much I know. When she can't she has a very impressive support network now in place to back her up. I hope she realises just how lucky she is.

==

==

My eyes are beginning to ache; I'm having trouble staying awake. I could stay but I've decided to go home. I'm just waiting for Josh to say his goodbyes to Sam and Toby, and then he's going to walk me back to my apartment.

He appears in the Hall, closing the lounge door behind him

"Everything okay?"

"CJ's still asleep, Toby and Sam are arguing over International Tariffs"

"I think Sam has missed talking about the mundane details of politics over the last week or so. He's just had too much of my life: that can't be good for anyone"

We leave CJ's in silence and begin the walk back to my apartment

Josh is still a little fazed. We spent the last hour talking about his last half a dozen relationships, and why most of them have ended so badly. I told him I think he has a lot to learn: something I can appreciate from a lack of personal experience myself. I think he just needs someone who understands just how important his political life is to him. As yet he hasn't found anyone who's prepared to stand with him, but still let him come and go on his terms, without perceiving the act as a lack of commitment. Max said to me once, a long time ago, that the best relationships are those where the two people understand that mutual trust really is more important than anything else. I think I'm beginning to understand that now for myself, for the first time in my life.

The silence feels a little uncomfortable, so I decide to talk business.

"I forgot to ask you...did you get hold of Roz about the Met Fundraiser dates?"

Josh is obviously miles away, and it takes a moment for him to acknowledge the question.

"Yeah, I've arranged a meeting with her, we're going to finalise the details and work out three dates. The President will attend one of the three subject to commitments, but we can fundraise at all of them."

"When do you see her?"

"March 31^st at 2.30pm"

I look at him conspiratorially.

"Any reason why you picked that particular date?"

He grins "There's a couple of friends of mine who are in New York that day on business, I thought we might meet up and do something before we all came back to DC"

"Nice idea. Of course, by that point I might be a bit skint, and possibly a bit unhappy"

"Skint?"

"British colloquialism, I may have a three-quarter of a million dollar hole in my bank account, I could be broke..."

"I doubt that. Sam and Max have a definite lead, don't they?"

"Will arrives in DC on Monday, Max is going to interview him while Sam starts getting us ready for the hearing. I'm going to New York on Monday night to talk to Christine. It's certainly looking good, but I'm not going to get my hopes up, just in case"

We're here, and I can't work out how it took so little time.

I give him a quick hug, as I'm cold and I want to sleep. As I pull back he looks at me, and then at my lapel.

"You're wearing it, I didn't notice"

"You know, despite the fact you claim to be a insightful and perceptive political strategist, you really are dense sometimes, Joshua. I've been wearing it since you gave it to me."

"You're wearing it, I didn't notice"

I thump him in the arm and make my way up to the front door.

"Thanks for walking me home."

"No problem"

I'm about to go in, but I hesitate. I want to say something to him, but I'm not sure if this is the right moment. He senses that I've paused for a reason.

"Everything okay?"

I turn back around to face him.

"I just wanted to...when I first heard about this, when I first sat in Sam's office and we tried to digest it all, he asked me if I thought Richard could have done this. For ten years I carried a torch for my husband the size of the Statue of Liberty's, he was all I wanted in my world and I couldn't possibly imagine that he could do anything wrong or was capable of anything duplicitous. Of course, I should have realised that this is just looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses. I suppose with the benefit of two years of not having him and finally having to cope alone...well, I'm only now beginning to develop my own emotional sense of self...and I'm beginning to understand that emotionally I'm still very immature."

I look down at my shoes briefly; this is taking longer than I thought. I try and re-organise my thoughts, I try to be more specific.

"I think the friendships I've made in the last six months or so are the most significant since I met Sam, Max and Morag. I met these three because of my husband, but I met Toby, CJ and you because of...well, because of me. It's been a long time coming but I finally feel I'm able to be myself with people, instead of being a wife first and a person second, which is what I was. It's still taking me time to work out what exactly I am, but with the people I have around me now I know it feels a lot easier to experiment and grow than it ever did before. I know it was Morag who started the process of bringing me out of myself, and you've been pretty important in helping me go further."

He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking embarrassed.

"I suppose I could have just said thanks for being there for me, but I wanted you to know why I was saying it...that's all"

He looks up at me and shakes his head.

"For a Media Director you're pretty bad at saying what you mean, aren't you?"

"We are equally well suited to our professions"

This is as good a moment as any to call it a day.

"Goodnight Josh, I'll see you on Sunday"

"You will. Goodnight Evie"

I push open the door and walk inside.

==

Home        What's New        Author Listings        Title Listings