Simon strode to Charlie's desk with a sense of purpose mingled with apprehension. He
wasn't sure what the young man would tell him about Anthony, and part of him hoped
Charlie hadn't yet bonded with the kid. It was a selfish wish – he enjoyed being
Anthony's Big Brother; they had a very close relationship that filled a void in Simon's
life – the place where a son would normally be if circumstances were different. Simon
liked the Anthony he remembered, and the changes he brought about in him. He hoped he
wasn't going to lose the boy.

Charlie sat motionless, staring up at the tall man in front of him, wondering if the stress
was finally getting to him. Afraid to move, afraid to even breathe, he wondered if he
would be seeing his mother next, and should he actually ask for an ambulance right now.
"Guess I should have asked CJ to prepare you the way Ron prepared her."
"Agent Donovan?" It was a squeak, not even a whisper.
"Simon, actually." He smiled at the young man. "I really am alive, you know. You
haven't snapped."
Charlie wondered how he would know the difference. Debbie Fiderer walked back to her
desk from the Oval Office. She saw Simon and smiled. "Can I help you?"
Simon shook his head. "Thank you ma'am, I'm here for Charlie."
Well, thought Charlie, at least I know that if I'm hallucinating, I'm not doing it alone. He
stood up. "Debbie, I need to take a short break. Page me if you need anything."

He motioned for Simon to follow, and as they walked away he explained awkwardly,
"She's new. Just started."
"CJ thought the President would never replace Mrs. Landigham."
"We all thought that." Charlie led Simon into an empty room, closed the door and looked
at him carefully. "Did you see CJ?"
Simon nodded. He was still spent from the intensity of the past few hours. And he was
afraid of the coming conversation. He cleared his throat nervously.
"I uh…guess I should start by telling you that my 'death,' as it were, was staged in order
to send me on an undercover assignment. The circumstances were beyond my control,
and anyone who knew the truth was at risk. That's why only a few top level Secret
Service agents knew the truth."
Charlie took a deep breath. That explained a lot, but it may not be enough to smooth
things over with Anthony, and witnessing CJ's pain these past four months would
probably hurt him for some time yet.
"Your job sucks," he blurted without thinking, astonished to find himself repeating
Anthony's assessment of Simon's job.
"It has its moments, yes." Simon smiled weakly. "Is that you speaking, or is it my Little
Brother?"
Charlie was impressed. From the very little Anthony said in the short time they've spent
together, he knew the kid and Simon were close. But he never realized how close.
"Both of us, I guess," he admitted, than shook his head. "I don't mean…I appreciate
everything the Secret Service does…"
Simon held up his hand. "I understand more than you think," he said softly, thinking of
his mother's tears and CJ's hand across his cheek, the same hand that later held on for
dear life as they walked back to her office. His stomach tightened again. "Give me the
gory details about Anthony," he said softly.
"How much do you know?" asked Charlie.
"I know about the car, I know CJ got you to take over my role in exchange for his not
doing time. She said it took "a drastic action' on your part to get him to agree to this, but
she didn't elaborate."
"He called her a bitch. I slammed him against the wall."
Simon blinked. "He did what?"
"Called her a bitch."

Simon stared at Charlie in stunned disbelief for a long moment. The younger man
returned the gaze, and then averted his eyes. He thought he wanted to shake the agent, but
the pain in Simon's eyes made him feel as if he'd just kicked a wounded dog. Like CJ's
anger, his own quickly dissolved in the face of the realization that Simon's loses, though
more voluntary than CJ's or Anthony's, were quite real and painful.
"He was upset," Charlie said uncomfortably. "He was tired. I think, maybe, more than me
slamming him against the wall and lecturing him, it was the fact that he talked to her that
way that shook him enough to start meeting with me." Charlie had no idea were his
words came from, but he hoped Simon would buy them. It may even be the truth, he
reflected.
Simon looked around the room for a long moment. He felt as if he were sleep-walking.
He returned his gaze to the young man in front of him.
"There is no way I can even begin to thank you," He said quietly. "And I'm actually
about to ask you for one more favor, namely to let him know that I'm alive and back. I
just want you to know…your mother would be very proud of you. You've shown a
generosity that's pretty humbling." He took a deep breath. "Would you like to continue
seeing him, when your schedule permits? It's not like I can give or deny permission," he
added quickly. "That's up to Anthony. I'm just thinking he could really use a role model
like you."
"He's got a great role model already," smiled Charlie. "And he'll probably be boring
when he's content, now that you're back." His face grew serious. "I don't know how he'd
react to your return, actually. But yeah, I like shooting hoops with him, and he might
even be fun when he lets go of the attitude. If he wants to tag along on Saturdays, I'm
game."
Simon smiled slightly. "You'll talk to him?"
"As soon as I can. I have a full day today. But I'll see if I can get him to drop by after
school."
"I understand." Simon gave him his business card. "Call my cell when he knows, OK?"
Charlie nodded. He looked back at the older man and needed to do something to take the
pain away. "He loves you. He'll come around. He's just – hurting badly right now, and
no one ever told him how to handle this kind of pain the right way." He sighed, "I'm glad
you're back. We need a happy ending here every once in a while."