Author's Note:

As promised, here is a nice long chapter. US East coasters, I hope you are in out of the storm. Hopefully, this chapter can fill some time until the roads are clear.

Malcolm heard Sam meet McDonald and Reeder and usher them into the living room. He waited on the other side of the guest room door, listening as they got settled and Sam brought in coffee.

Malcolm made his entrance, doing his best to navigate the furniture now that the IV stand was on his left hand side. Jamie seemed to recognise the difficulty and pulled the ottoman away from Malcolm's favorite wing backed chair so he could more easily sit down.

"How you feeling, boss?" Jamie asked.

"Better, thanks. Starting to get my energy back." At least he had been until today. He was fucking fried. Perhaps he'd been overly ambitious in his plans for the day. Sam tried to persuade him to postpone this meeting until Tuesday, but he couldn't take the risk.

"Good to hear it, Malcolm," Julius chimed in.

Reeder looked agitated. His normally pale complexion had faded to a pasty white hue. He was already visibly sweating and they hadn't even gotten started yet.

Malcolm wondered whether Jamie had used their time in the car to apologise for the way he handled things with Ollie the previous week, as Malcolm had suggested. Although Malcolm hadn't been there and received only the sketchiest of details from the man himself, he could read Jamie's body language like a Dickens novel. Malc knew he'd gone over the top. Again.

"How are you doing, Ollie?" Malcolm asked.

"Fine. Look, what is this about?"

Malcolm paused to collect himself before responding. A quick glance at the oxygen saturation meter told him he was in good shape, nearly at 100%. So he began.

"I don't remember much of last Wednesday, but I understand from Nicola that we were in the middle of rehearsing for her live apology on BBC when I passed out. Nicola says I was giving you a fair bollocking. Is that right?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it was a bollocking, really more of a harpooning of the gonads, so to speak."

"Oh? What was I on about?" Over the past few days Malcolm had actually regained most of his memory of Wednesday morning. He was admittedly somewhat foggy about the meeting with DoSAC, but remembered his planned trajectory. It would be interesting to hear Ollie's perspective.

"You seemed to think I didn't know how to prepare speakers. You had Nicola rehearsing with Glen and Terri and called me out a little bit. A lot, actually."

"Did I, now?"

"Nicola changed the lines because she was worried about messing them up. I wanted to re-write the lines, but you, Glen and Terri said that was the wrong thing to do."

"So we were all in agreement then. What happened next?"

"Well, you passed out. That was basically the end of the meeting. Sam came in and called EMS, then sent me out to wait for the ambulance."

"So, from there, you called the editors at the top three and gave them a heads up that there was something going on at Number Ten."

Ollie had nothing to say to that.

"Come on, you can own up to that. I know you and Jamie talked. I've actually heard about it from one of the journalists that showed up. That's what you did, right?"

Another very long pause. Ollie finally spoke, not meeting Malcolm's gaze. "Well, yeah. You really had a go at me in front of everyone. It felt like poetic justice to get you a little media attention so you could see how it feels to be humiliated in front of your peers."

"Ollie, do you really think those two things are anywhere near on the same level? Receiving some admittedly rough but well-intended coaching in front of a small group, compared to inciting a press frenzy to create some swirl?"

"You wouldn't think so much of it if you didn't have anything to hide, Malcolm. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Here we go, Malcolm thought. He felt his pulse pounding in his neck and was glad of the oxygen. "You speak as if you know something about me. Do tell. Just among us. What do you think I'm hiding?"

"It's public record that when you were fourteen you attacked your own father, nearly killed him, and went to gaol. You were a bully then and you're still a bully now." Neither Jamie nor Julius reacted to that. If Ollie was trying to shock or surprise them, he'd have to try a little harder.

"I was only in gaol for two days, and it was a juvenile offense. And the bastard lived, by the way, which I think you know. Come on, that's not the whole story. What else did you find out about me? And how did you come by this information?"

Ollie seemed to finally realise he had said too much. He didn't manage to produce an answer. Malcolm signalled to Jamie, who produced the manila envelope full of articles from Marianne. He pulled the contents out of the envelope and spread it out on the coffee table in front of Ollie.

"I—I've never seen that before in my life!"

"Marianne Swift was here yesterday. She gave me this. She didn't know who sent it, but I knew right away, Ollie. You're the only person I could think of who is currently angry enough with me and also morally bankrupt enough to sink this low. What were you trying to accomplish?"

No answer from the junior adviser. Malcolm breathed and waited. He knew Ollie would eventually have to fill the silence. Jamie was sitting on the edge of his chair, clearly wanting to weigh in. Be patient, Jamie. Julius sat back in his chair, a dark expression on his face. Finally, Ollie broke the silence.

"It was after Jamie attacked me outside of St. Thomas's."

That was too much for Jamie. "I dinna attack you, you twat. If I'd attacked you, there would've been bits of you smeared across the parking lot for days to come. We just had a conversation." Jamie looked to Malcolm. "It was just a conversation." His facial expression, however, didn't match his words. His non-verbals had remorse written all over them. Oh Jamie, we've got to work on your anger, Malcolm thought.

"Shut up, Jamie. Go on Ollie."

Ollie glanced up at Malcolm and cut his eyes briefly to Jamie, who was clearly seething. If looks could kill, Reeder would be a pile of ash.

"I went back into A&E, but couldn't find Nicola or the others. So, I walked back to Number Ten. Between the bollocking you gave me and then Jamie threatening me, I was pretty mad. My plan was to talk to Julius about it and get him to intervene." Nicholson sat up, a perplexed expression on his face.

"And what were you expecting me to do, Ollie? Tell the PM? This isn't first form, you know."

"No, nothing like that. I just wanted you to get them to back off."

Malcolm had other ideas about Ollie's intent, but withheld them for the moment. He was really glad he'd asked Nicholson to be in on this. "But you didn't find Julius, did you?"

"No. He was off with the PM to record his broadcast. But his office was open. I thought I'd just wait for him."

"You went in my office?" Julius sounded piqued at the audacity.

"Yeah. Well, the door was open, and I thought you'd be right back. While I was waiting I had a look around and noticed a file drawer labeled personnel. It wasn't locked, by the way. I found Malcolm's file and copied down a few things to research on the Internet."

"You went in my confidential files?"

"You didn't lock your confidential files? Julius, how long have you been in politics?" Malcolm reigned himself in, not wanting to take the focus off of Ollie. His heart was racing and he felt giddy. The saturation meter beeped. 87%. He breathed through the cannula slowly, trying to calm himself. He heard a floorboard creak in the kitchen. While he knew Sam would never eavesdrop on the conversation, when it came to the low oxygen alarm she had ears like a bat.

"I swear they're usually locked. That was just one time. I'd gone in there to get the CVs on the reshuffle candidates just before the PM's address. And they were locked, but I'd left the key in by mistake, so you did actually unlock them, Ollie. Even if they'd been wide open it would be wrong to look through them. Even you should know that." Malcolm held up a hand to stop the downward spiral in the conversation.

"Let's not go there right now. Everybody just calm down." Malcolm paused, watching Julius, Jamie and Ollie until they all seemed to settle down. Malcolm used the time himself to breathe and set aside his anger at Julius for such carelessness. The man was staying for dinner, for Christ's sake. Right now the focus needed to be on Ollie or this wasn't going to work.

"Let me recap where we are right now to make sure I understand. Ollie, you're saying you had rough treatment from Jamie and me, so you went back to Number Ten to talk to Julius. Instead, you looked through his confidential files to find some dirt. Did you happen to look at any other files, or just mine?" Malcolm tried to sound as casual and nonjudgmental as possible.

"Just yours, I swear. And the only thing in there was a note that you had an arrest record."

"So what did you do next? Let me guess. You went home or back to the office and did some Internet research, which led you to the press coverage of my arrest and the rest of it. You obtained photocopies of the relevant articles and sent them to Marianne Swift. You even called her and suggested she do a story on me. Is that basically the sequence of events?"

Ollie took a while to respond. "Yes, that's basically it, but you're making it sound worse than it really was."

"I don't know how it could be made out worse than it actually was, Ollie. I mean, that's pretty fucking bad." Malcolm paused to breathe and give Ollie some white space to consider the magnitude of his overreaction. "What were you hoping to accomplish?"

"Well, you'd be exposed. Humiliated. The press would go after you. Maybe you'd even have to step down."

"And then what?"

"I dunno." Ollie looked as if he'd just recognised the short-sightedness of his actions.

"Oh come on. Let's play this out. Let's say things went the way you hoped and I resigned or was sacked because of the swirl from this very old news. Who do you think would be the next communications director?" Ollie's eyes involuntarily cut over to Jamie and then back to Malcolm. "Do you think you would like working with him more than with me? Better get a brass jock strap."

"No, get titanium" Jamie's delivery was perfectly deadpan.

"That's the hardest metal, I believe," Julius offered. Usually jovial and easygoing, the PM's adviser was still visibly upset at hearing Ollie had gone through his files. Even if Malcolm was still vexed at Nicholson for leaving the file unlocked, he keenly relished the rare moments when they were on the same side.

Ollie smiled nervously. Malcolm was pretty sure they'd reached the tipping point.

"Look, I didn't mean for any of this to get so serious. Right? I mean, I was just having a go at you the same way you have a go at people all the time, Malcolm." Jamie looked like he was going to come out of his seat. Malcolm held up a hand and Jamie heeled like a good guard dog.

Malcolm took a moment to absorb that and manage his reaction. Ollie had hit a nerve. The worst thing he could do in this moment was show anger. Pretty tall order. He was fucking furious.

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Is that what you thought I was doing to you on Wednesday?" Ollie nodded and looked like he wanted to respond, so Malcolm cut him off. After all, it was a rhetorical question.

"Think back to what you just told me about Wednesday, Ollie. We were doing a rehearsal. I was trying to help you see that your role isna just writing the comms and getting Nicola to say them. It's about working with her to make sure what you write works for her and also covers the political need. In that instance, you did neither. That's coaching, son. When I work with Nicola, it's coaching. With all the other ministers, coaching. With you, it's coaching, too. Maybe it's not as soft and fucking touchy feely as you'd like, but it usually gets the job done. You might hate me for a while. But believe me, you'll thank me later when you are better at what you do."

"But it's not just me, Malcolm. Everybody hates you. Everyone's afraid of getting a bollocking from Malcolm-fucking-Tucker."

"That's right. And I don't care. They can fucking hate me all day long, but when I go home at night I can lay my head on the pillow and know I did my best to make the Labour party and the people in it stronger."

"That's scruples. Something you havena got." Malcolm shot Jamie a look. He didn't know if he should feel grateful for the backup or angry at the effect Jamie's words might have on Ollie. He decided to change tack. It was time to get young master Reeder into the grow or go zone. They'd better get there soon, because he was running out of energy.

"Ollie, what got you interested in politics? Why did you go into this business?" The junior adviser hardly appeared to consider the question.

"The power. In politics, the people who pay attention and do their homework are the ones who can influence events. People respect them. They have leverage with important people and can use it to get things done. I want to have that kind of power." Jamie made a noise of dismissal. Malcolm ignored it. Julius smiled a little at Ollie's answer.

"So, for you, it's all about power. So, why the Labour party, Ollie?" Ollie's facial expression implied the answer was common sense.

"Well, obviously, the Labour party is currently in power."

"So you have no loyalty to the Labour party, then? If we're out of office come next election, will you just cross the aisle to whoever has the power then?" Ollie blinked. "How many times are you prepared to cross the aisle? Could get tiresome. And before long, the ones in power will see you're really just a mercenary. How much power do you think you'll have then?"

Malcolm let the silence spin out. He was nearly at his limit. Julius filled the void.

"You know, I always thought you were young and impressionable, somewhat naïve in a charming way. What you've done here has compromised your position with Nicola and in the Labour party pretty severely."

"So, am I sacked, then? Is that what this is?" Julius looked over at Malcolm, passing the baton. Jamie's face was stony. He knew what was coming, and Malcolm knew he didn't agree with it.

"That's not for us to say. Nicola's your boss. She doesn't know anything about this, but we could make her aware of it."

"Great. Another thing she can add to her shit list." Malcolm smiled inwardly. Sounds like Murray found her lady bollocks.

"This isna a sacking, Ollie. This is a second chance. If you want it. But if you do, you're going to have to come at things with a new perspective. I'm not shitting you. If you pull another stunt like this, you're fucking gone. Done in politics. I will see to it that everyone on both sides of the aisle and every editor I know understands the depths you can stoop to over some hurt feelings. You could even face criminal charges." Malcolm wasn't positive about that last bit, but was sure Ollie wouldn't know the difference.

More silence. This time, Jamie and Julius did nothing to break it. Ollie looked like he might need to vomit. Or change his pants. Or both. Finally, the little twat found his voice.

"So, what happens next?"

"You want the second chance, then?" Malcolm needed him to say it. In order to work with anyone the way he planned to work with Ollie, he needed to be invited in. Just like a vampire.

"Yes. I want the second chance." Malcolm couldn't help smiling.

"That's great, Ollie. I think you made the right decision. So what's next? Well, you're done working for today. Just go home. Or go on a nice walk. Think about what we discussed and get your head clear."

"Okay, I can do that." It seemed that now that they were into the solution shock was setting in. Ollie's hand shook reaching for his coffee, which was likely cold at this point. When he took a sip he aspirated it and then spilled it down his shirt while coughing. Malcolm looked elsewhere, giving him time to recover.

"Then tomorrow, I'd like you to go with Terri to the morning Comms meeting at Number Ten. You'll be with Jamie after the meeting for the rest of the day, serving as his attaché.

"His what? I mean…but he—hates me." Jamie's expression remained blank, though Malcolm could tell he was clenching his jaw.

"Jamie, do you hate Ollie?"

"Nae, Malcolm. I dinna hate Ollie, even if he is a twat."

"There you go. He likes you, Ollie. I know it's hard to read him, but I've been working with him a long time. He doesna hate you. But he does tend to overreact when people do shitty things, right?"

"Just don't fuck up and we'll get on fine, mate." Malcolm was proud of Jamie in this moment. This assignment was for Jamie just as much as it was for Reeder—maybe more.

"I will let Nicola know you're out of pocket for tomorrow, and then you're back with her for the rest of the week. Sam will call to set up a meeting with me this Friday here at the house." Malcolm planned to have weekly meetings with Ollie during this intensive care period. Either Ollie would get on board and turn it around or he wouldn't.

"Alright, then." Ollie seemed to make a decision. He clasped his hands and nodded vigourously. "Okay."

Sam called the car service for Jamie and Ollie. Malcolm was certain it would be a tense ride back to DoSAC.

"Nice job, old man. It's always a pleasure to see you in action." Malcolm grinned.

"I do have a certain charm in these situations. Could you check and see if he piddled on my sofa?"

Julius stood and made a point of feeling the cushion Ollie had been sitting on. "No, you're in luck, it's dry."

Sam came in to freshen up their coffees and remind Malcolm it was past time for his breathing treatment.

"I will leave you with Sam for the duration. I'm no fun when I'm getting a treatment. I just nod off like a junkie." Malcolm stood a little shakily and grasped the IV pole. Julius stood as well, offering a stabilising arm until he was steady. Normally, Malcolm would bristle at that, but he was just too fucking tired.

"Thanks for being in on this, Julius."

"Happy to do it, and sorry he got the lead from me." Malcolm took in the apology for closer examination later. He knew it was an honest mistake. But fuck. Way to wreck a life, Julius.

"Nothing like having the PM's adviser sitting in on a bollocking to add weight to the proceedings. Seriously, thanks." Malcolm left Julius to take his breathing treatment in the bedroom and contemplate that apology. Knowing Julius for the gourmand he was, Malcolm knew he was happy to hang out with Sam in the kitchen while she cooked.