Author: Sirius
Disclaimer: See Part I
Author note: As always, feedback is good. Again, formatting is being weird, so anything that would normally be in italics (thoughts, flashbacks, etc.) will be in , and any additional emphasis will be in ** and/or bold print, depending on the vagaries of the program… erg.
Downtown – 2pm
MacAvoy saw him come in and had to say something. "Hey, Genesee, I didn't think you were on until eight."
"I'm not; I was passing by and thought I'd see if Masters called in again."
"Yeah, last time I saw him he still looked like hell. That double homicide night before last really threw him."
"So I gathered. I've been a little out of the loop, not watching the news much lately. Anybody find out who those kids are?"
"Yeah. According to the news and Captain DiMenna, the girl is Deanna Young. Her brother Charlie is President Bartlet's aide. The boy was her Prom date."
"Hell of a way to end a date."
"Wasn't it just? Hey, Genesee?"
"Yeah, man?"
"Just so you know, since you had yesterday off, Cap's got a bee up his butt about this. The kid's mother, Marissa Young, was his partner back when he was a lowly homicide detective like the rest of us. She was killed in the line almost… five years ago, I think – armor-piercing rounds – and he is unbelievably pissed off that anyone would go after her kids."
"Young's mother was a cop? I thought I'd heard that somewhere before… a couple years back… when someone shot at the President, maybe."
"Yeah, it was mentioned then. Anyway, like I said, Masters is still out, and if you're not due in for six hours anyway, get the hell out of here before the Captain comes back and decides to make you work. See you later, Genesee."
"Yeah, see you buddy." As Genesee left the station, he smiled a little bit and wondered what Charlie thought of the artwork he'd sent.
Residence – 3pm
Bartlet had dismissed his staff and told them to go get some rest – of course, he knew that most of them would rest by working until they dropped, whether in the West Wing or at home. Toby had ignored the command to leave, heading – as Bartlet had – straight to Charlie's room.
They had reached the room to find Charlie standing in its center, still in his coat, a shocked Zoey held in his arms. The President only had to look at the photos being carefully gathered and tagged by a Service investigative team to realize what had prompted the reaction. Toby, getting a closer look at the photos than he had really wanted, had swallowed hard and turned away, meeting the sympathetic gaze of one of Charlie's temporary agents – William? Obviously, he hadn't been the only one to have that kind of reaction.
Charlie was almost* too* still where he was, and Ron had started to wonder if he might be retreating into himself, needing time to heal away from all this, away from this house. Then, he had seen the slowly building rage in the younger man's eyes and realized. He had walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering a suggestion into his ear. Charlie nodded…
And now, after all the evidence had been collected and the room sorted, the younger man faced the AIC across an exercise mat… and both bowed. Bartlet watched the exercise in silence, having never seen this side of his aide. Then again, he never recalled asking Charlie if he'd studied martial arts.
He had one arm draped over Zoey's shoulders as they watched. Abbey wasn't there, having been convinced to use her not-inconsiderable intimidation skills to persuade the Senior Staff to go home – it was Sunday after all, there really wasn't much to do, and even God took a day off.
Josh, however, managed to find his way down to the gym, and observed the match with a mixture of awe and understanding. "It's a coping mechanism," he said, jumping back a bit as Ron skidded on the mat before recovering from Charlie's throw. "This is a pressure valve, lets him release everything in a controlled setting. If he's as good as Ron has implied, Ron's probably one of the few people he can do this with and not run much risk of doing serious damage. And it's a hell of a lot better than putting a fist through a wall… or a window." The President simply nodded… and Zoey kept watch.
In the end, Charlie was the one giving the mat the traditional three taps, signaling an end to the match. Ron released Charlie from the hold and climbed to his feet. Charlie stayed where he was for a moment longer, back flat against the mat, slowing his breathing as sweat trickled down his face and a measure of control seeped back into his mind. He could find the quiet place again. When his breathing had returned to normal, he opened his eyes… and took the hand that Ron out to help him to his feet.
It was a showered, calmer Charlie who, half an hour later, stood resolutely in front of the President's Chief of Security and demanded to see the letter that had come with the pictures. In the end, it was only Charlie's absolute refusal to give in on the issue that convinced Ron to give him a copy of the letter, not even Zoey Bartlet being the wiser for it, as Josh had succeeded in temporarily distracting her with something and she was currently in the West Wing. Charlie, on taking the copy from Ron's hand, folded it in half horizontally, then vertically, and carried it to the Resident's library.
This is as good a place as any he thought, taking a seat on the floor, his back against one of the couches. Taking a deep breath, he began to read.
TBC…
