Disclaimer: I don't own any of these people. Or any people at all, you know. I also know very little about politics, which should make this 'fun'. Anyway.

Chapter 1

It was a Tuesday when he saw him.

Tuesday. Thomas had always found Tuesdays to be remarkably forgettable. Remarkably dull. Remarkably predictable. But this wasn't something anyone could predict.

He would wake up to the sound of his blaring alarm, force himself to stand, guzzle coffee, dress, pick up whatever project papers he was working on the night before, click his briefcase shut, and force himself into the misty morning chill.

He'd walk to the subway and ride the empty trains across D.C. The florescent lights would flicker and automated voices would give cheerily loud announcements. Most people would be getting in the next round the subway took. He'd exit, scan his key card, jog up the stairs with his coffee in hand (the second cup at this point) and exit into the street.

People would be milling around now. Men in business suits like himself with red or blue ties. Women in pantsuits and pencil skirts and ponytails. Not many tourists yet. Thankfully.

He'd adjust his grip on his suitcase and nod a hello as he came closer to his workplace. People recognized him usually at this time. He'd give a sort of wave while still holding his coffee, and wish suddenly he could figure out how everyone else looked so confident and determined at this godforsaken hour.

A wind picked up as he jogged the stairs, and cherry blossoms slipped and slid around those marble steps and danced through the air.

It wasn't humid yet. This was a blessing.

He pushed open the glass doors with his shoulder, entered, and met the eyes of the security guard that was always standing at the checkpoint.

"Senator."

"Mr. Smith. A pleasure to see you again." Thomas was usually much wittier. But it was five o' seven in the morning, and his wit just didn't catch up until at least nine.

The man nodded once. "Cell phone, wallet, briefcase in the box. Pass through."

Thomas rolled his eyes. Every morning. Every freaking morning. You would think that if he was going to bring a bomb to work, after seven years of working his butt off, he would have broken and done it already. But whatever. He passed through the metal detector, and it flashed red.

"Wearing a belt?"

"Always." Thomas sighed.

Mr. Smith grunted, handed him his box of items, and Thomas, now, would have left him without a glance back (well maybe an obnoxious wink if he was feeling chipper). He stepped into the tall, marble room, mind already buzzing with the projects he needed to complete today.

There was a speech he would be attending (and then speaking at. Oh joy.) concerning the rights of the News over Olds. He was going to coffee with an up-and-coming senator from some backwater state which started with a W or something he thought. After that, there was paperwork to do (which hopefully his secretary would have in order) and then he was appearing at a school function to promote education in lower income areas. As he crossed, his secretary, a competent young woman with a blonde ponytail, raced up to him with a clipboard and a multitude of words. "Sir, there's been a hold on the school trip today…"

On this usual, typical, dull, Tuesday, Thomas would have walked with sharp steps across this main hall, and entered the busy winding buisness that his people had taken residence in. He would have listened as carefully as he could to Ms. Mariah's words.

But instead, he found himself frozen in the middle of the hall. His ears popped like a great pressure had been released, and he found himself turning back, like a magnet, toward the front door.

Mariah frowned at him. "Sir, are you alright?"

"Fine," he mumbled. There was a peculiar itch just behind his collarbone, and he loosened his tie.

Beyond those glass doors, a scruffy young man in a cheap suit pressed his hands on the glass to frame his face, and peered inside. His eyes darted back and forth, searching.

Cocking his head, Thomas stared at him, a peculiar mix of revulsion and amusement settling inside of him along with a healthy dose of nausea.

The world spun, and he stumbled a step. Suddenly, Mariah's hand was at his elbow. "Sir, have you been sleeping? How about you sit down for a moment, you look like you're going to be sick. I hear there's a bug going around anyhow and-"

He held up a hand to quiet her as she led him to a bench. He sat down and risked another glance at the man outside.

The man pulled open the door and walked hastily toward the security checkpoint.

They were too far away and there were too many people walking around to hear him clearly, but his body language was clear enough.

He wanted to get inside. Now. He waved his arms and ran a panicked hand through his hair. Thomas, Thomas read on his lips. He blinked.

Thomas stood and Mariah stood with him. "Sir?"

"I'm fine, Mariah. Just need to drink some water, I think." He continued to stare at the man. Didn't he know him? Was he a reporter? An actor? Someone he knew as a kid?

"What are you looking at?"

Thomas nodded toward the man, who was getting into more and more of a heated discussion with the security guard. Not everyone could just waltz in here. "Have you seen that man before?"

Mariah chewed her lip and squinted in the direction Thomas nodded. She wrinkled her nose. "The fashion disaster at twelve o'clock? No. Why?"

Thomas shrugged. "I just…" He pinched between his eyes. "You know, never mind. I need water. Let's get water."

He turned just as the man was getting frantic. Their voices were louder now. Mr. Smith was obviously finished talking."Sir you can't-!"

"You don't understand! I need to know if he-"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Or you will be forcefully removed from the-"

"No, no! Please! THOMAS!"

Thomas froze. So did most of the crowd. Everyone turned to stare at the man.

And when Thomas turned to do the same, the man was staring directly at him.

Mariah cursed quietly.

Everyone was watching now. He couldn't just run away.

So like a good politician, he slapped on a smile and retraced his steps so that he was standing on the opposite side of the checkpoint. At his action, most people lost interest and went back to their business. Mr. Smith glared at Thomas disapprovingly, and the man put his hands in the air as if to placate them both. He was staring with something like awe and horror at Thomas. "You're Thomas? I-I thought the senator's name was Tom."

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Yes. Short for Thomas. I'm sorry, who are you?"

The man's face fell. "You- he was supposed to- I thought he just worked here. I didn't think you-"

"Again, sir. You have three seconds to speak and then I am going to go to my meeting, which I will be late to in," He looked at his watch. "five minutes."

The man opened and closed his mouth. "I-I-"

"Two Seconds-"

"My name is Alexander- Alex- Miranda," he sputtered. "You don't know me, obviously, but I know you. I-I remember you."

Thomas frowned. "You… remember me."

It clicked suddenly, and he crossed his arms. "Oh. Okay, I see how it is. Look, who put you up to this? It's not worth outing yourself, believe me. When this bill passes, you are gonna want to be anywhere but in this office. It's a clever ruse, though. I'll give you that."

Alex blinked rapidly. "W-what?"

"It would make a great newspaper heading. Really. 'Anti Old Soul Senator Thomas Jackson is an Old Soul Himself!' Or something like that." He rolled his eyes. "Don't try to play with me, kid. You will lose. Whatever someone is offering you, do the smart thing and get out of here."

Alex was speechless and distinctly offended. "You think…? You think I'm trying to trick you? No one is paying me!"

"Riiight."

Alex continued to stare. He shook his head slowly, wonderingly. "Dear Lord, Thomas."

Thomas scowled. "It's Senator Jackson, actually." He glanced at Mr. Smith. "Get him out of here."

Alex just stepped back. "Yo!" he grumbled. "I'm leaving. No need to get all handsy." He spun. The glass doors shut behind him.

With a final eye roll, Thomas turned his back and walked away, that same spot beneath his collarbone itching again. He exhaled and forced himself to tighten his tie. Crazy creep.

What a horrible start to the day.

When he reached the hallway to his office, Mariah was standing there with a bottle of water. "Here, sir."

Thomas smiled gratefully. "Thankya, missi, you're a lamb."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Uh… I'm a what?"

Thomas screwed open the bottle and drained it. He smacked his lips. "So. What did I miss?"

AN: *cackles* what am i doing.

Whatever. Please leave a review if you feel so inclined!