Author's Note:

I never thought this story would get to fifty chapters. Not sure how that happened, but there are quite a few more on the horizon. It's Friday morning and Malcolm and Sam are back at St. Thomas's for appointments, and Jamie and Ollie have a plan. Reviews always inspire me and help the work keep moving forward.


Malcolm's Blackberry buzzed on the laminated surface of the cafeteria table. Sam turned it over before Malcolm could see who it was. She confiscated the device after receiving a text from Jamie advising that Fleming was up to something and it might be better if Malcolm didn't have it for a while. She heartily agreed and was more than happy to oblige. Malcolm had other things that needed his attention right now.

They had time to kill between appointments and were in the hospital cafeteria having coffee. Malcolm bit grudgingly into the oversized muffin Sam pressed upon him, clearly not happy about it, but yielding to Sam's will. Doctor Ravi hadn't had good things to say about his weight.

"You're up less than half a stone from when I last saw you. I would have expected you'd gain more than that by now. How is your appetite?"

"Not so good, Doc. I've been trying, but it's hard." Sam had a lot she wanted to add there, but held her tongue. She knew Malcolm wouldn't appreciate her filling in the details about why he wasn't hungry.

The doctor scrawled something across a prescription blank, then tore it off the pad and handed it to her while speaking to Malc. "This is a prescription to help with your appetite. You can get it filled at the chemist's downstairs."

"Other than the appetite, how are you feeling?"

"Great. Really. Much better. Havna had a low oxygen alarm since – when was the last one, Sam?"

"Wednesday night."

"And I've been going almost the whole day without the oxygen."

Ravi scrutinised Malcolm's face, obviously bothered by something. "You look tired, Malcolm. How are you sleeping?"

Don't jump in, Sam, let him answer, she thought, literally biting her tongue gently.

"Not sleeping all too well, lately, I admit. Lots going on. I will do better on that so I'm rested for the surgery." The doctor didn't look like he really bought that, but he didn't dig any deeper. He listened to Malcolm's heart and lungs for a long time.

"I think it's safe to say we've beaten the pneumonia. You can go off the oxygen and the nebuliser treatments, though I would like you to keep both the nebuliser and oxygen in the house for now. If you get congested, try a breathing treatment and see if that helps." The look of relief on Malcolm's face was almost comical. Sam gave him a cheery smile in return. The nurse had already removed the IV port. Without all the medical equipment, Sam looked forward to sleeping in their bedroom tonight instead of the downstairs guest room.

Doctor Ravi also did another pulmonary function test. Sam couldn't help that she teared up when it showed no improvement over the one they did while Malc was still in hospital. She was expecting at least some improvement. After all, the pneumonia seemed to have cleared up, and Malcolm was hardly coughing at all. Malcolm also looked a little crestfallen, if less surprised than she was. The doctor seemed to pick up on their reactions.

"I expected some slight improvement, but not much. I wouldn't be too worried about this reading, Malcolm. This just confirms that the scar tissue is impeding your lung function, which we already knew. Really, we can't know more without a biopsy."

"How soon can we do it?" Sam worried that Malcolm's low weight would delay things.

"Even though your weight isn't where we want it yet, I think we should schedule for next Friday. The new prescription should help with your appetite. If it doesn't, please call so we can try something else."

"Thanks, Doc. I'd like to get this all behind me."

They firmed up plans for the biopsy. Doctor Ravi explained that the procedure would be done by a colleague who specialised in surgical interventions for pulmonary fibrosis, the condition Dr. Ravi believed Malcolm had.

"Can I go back to work, Doctor?"

"I will give a very cautious yes to that. I know you're feeling better and also are probably anxious to get back to work. It would still be safer to stay home to reduce the risk of exposure to viruses and bacteria that could get you ill again and delay your biopsy. But I recognise you have an important role in government and that may not be possible. Please try to minimise your office time. You probably have enough residual antibiotic in your system that you will be fine. I'm just a cautious man."

Sam couldn't help jumping in on that. "Thanks, Doctor. Malc will be careful and only go into the office when he really needs to be there. He's got his laptop and phone at home." Malcolm's mouth quirked into a smile at her heavy-handed approach to managing him. Better that than an angry scowl.

"And please don't over-do it. Don't be surprised if you tire out easily. Even though the pneumonia is gone, your body has been through a lot. It often takes several weeks to get all of your energy back. If you feel tired, rest. It's important. And I hope you really do try to get more sleep. Sleep does wonderful things for the immune system and is critical for the healing process."

They said their goodbyes and the doctor hurried out of the room, clearly on his way to another appointment.

"How's the muffin?"

"It's fine." He hadn't said much since the appointment. Sam knew he was nervous about meeting with the counsellor.

"You've got Ollie at two today. I was thinking maybe we could go to Giuseppe's for lunch." Giuseppe's was Malcolm's favourite Italian restaurant. He'd actually worked there when he first arrived in London from Glasgow. It had changed hands more than once since then, but he had fond memories of the place and liked the food. Usually, he would pester Sam to go, but today he looked reluctant.

"Sure Luv, if there's time in between. Or we could just have sandwiches at home."

The Blackberry buzzed again against the table. Sam picked it up and dropped it in her purse. Malcolm's eyes followed it on its journey, obviously anxious to know who was trying to get a hold of him and what was going on.


"He's a Nutter."

"You're sure?"

"Well, not an official Nutter. He's a special communications consultant to Nigel Albee." Jamie waited to see if Ollie had even heard of Albee.

"Albee's the party leader, right? So, Fleming's a hired gun."

"My source says they kept the arrangement informal because they don't want it known that Fleming's working with them. Sounds fairly under the table."

Ollie brightened, as if he just remembered some good news. "I found out more about that lien on his house. It turns out that Gretchen Roth, Andrew Roth's ex, litigated for personal injury and slander. It was a civil suit, so it didn't show up when I checked criminal records. Never went to court. Fleming settled for a frightening amount of money. Looks like he took out a loan to pay it, and then defaulted on the loan."

Jamie considered it for a moment. "That might be something we could use. How much detail do you have about the suit and the money involved?"

Ollie consulted his laptop. "Enough, I think. I don't have the specifics of the complaint, but I have the top line and the settlement terms. How do you want to do this?"

"Let's work with what you've got. I'd like to take it to the fucker today. Let him know what we have and tell him if he does anything to Malcolm we'll leak it to the press."

"To get him to back off."

"That's right. And if he doesn't back off, then we'll follow through in a big way. I've got loads more leverage with the serious media at this point than he does."

"And Malcolm has even more than you do."

"He's out of this, though. Don't mention it to him when you meet. I mean it. He's got a lot on his mind."