XIII

"Hey, CJ."

"Leo." She smiled at him, but the expression faded as she registered his mood. She sat up. "What's up?"

"I'd like to know what you'd say to this hypothetical situation," he began.

CJ looked tense; hypotheticals were never good. "Shoot," she said tersely.

"I have a hypothetical high-ranking government official who's been found out to have been having an affair," he said grimly. "The incident in question being six months in the past, and the circle of people who know about it being very small, and including said official's wife. However, hypothetically, it also includes an opposition Senator with a vested interest in using that information to get what he wants."

"How high-ranking?" she asked bluntly. He looked her in the eye.

"Vice President of the United States."

CJ's face remained very composed. "What would I say to that hypothetical?"

"Yeah."

"I'd say it's way too early in the year for April fools jokes."

He let his breath out in a rush. "Yeah."

"Seriously, Leo, there's no chance-?"

"I spoke to Hoynes myself," he cut her off bluntly.

He could tell she was angry by her swift, brittle movements as she very deliberately rearranged the papers on her desk. "Who are the players in our little morality tale?" she demanded.

"Selena McGann. Joe Bridges." He debated clarifying which was which, but right now he wasn't in the mood for even graveyard humour.

CJ straightened up in shock. "This is the leaked deal?"

"Yeah."

"This is what Josh has been hunting all week?"

"Bridges tried to blackmail McGann into stabbing us in the back. She leaked the deal to the press so we'd take it off the table before he made her poison it."

"She went to those lengths to keep the affair a secret?"

"She's the woman in this, CJ, I don't have to tell you how this turns out."

She made a very precise fold in a sheet of paper, smoothing it between her fingertips.

"Leo, if you think the Vice President's any closer to coming out of this smelling of roses, I've got news for you," she pointed out.

"If we can put a strategy together-"

"There's no strategy, Leo," she reminded him. "This isn't an illness or a justified trauma, this is sex. It doesn't go quick, and it never sells clean."

He sighed softly. "I know," he agreed quietly. "But Hoynes is our guy, and I'd like us to give this the best shot we can. We caught it before it explodes. If we can strike a deal with Bridges, it might never have to see the light of day."

CJ held his gaze. "Leo, if our time in office has ever taught us anything, it's that everything always comes out."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. CJ became suddenly interested in the papers she'd been folding on her desktop.

"Suzanne knows?"

He closed his eyes briefly, feeling suddenly extremely weary. "I think they have... an understanding."

"Okay."

There wasn't really much else either of them wanted to add.

After a moment, he asked "You told the press corps the president has a pet kitten?"

"Leo, the president does, in fact, have a pet kitten," she pointed out with a wry smile.

"I know. I have been introduced to it, I was induced to pat it, I am now gonna have to have this suit drycleaned after it managed to projectile shed more hair than you would possibly believe a single kitten could contain. The thing should be bald by now."

"I thought it would be good for the press to have something more pleasant to focus on. Good for the president, too," she added.

"Yeah." He paused for a beat. "CJ, so help me, if this cat ends up being called Fluffy, or Mr. Tiddles-"

"It has no name! It's a nameless cat," she defended.

"Okay." After a moment, he straightened up. "Anyway... Josh, the president and I are gonna be meeting with a few people about the thing we discussed. And it may be that it doesn't go anywhere, but I thought you needed to know."

She nodded shortly. "And if I get the question?"

He hesitated for only a beat. "Answer it," he said shortly. "He's our guy, and we'll defend him, but nobody's lying or running a coverup. We don't do that."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Good." He left.

Sam blinked at the young woman in befuddlement. "You... have the watch?"

She nodded matter-of-factly, sliding her sleeve back down as she pulled back. "I do."

He was caught off balance. "Um, can I ask...?"

"He gave at to me."

"At the party?"

"As a token of 'his affections'," she nodded, pulling a face.

He sat back, digesting that. Well, this made things a whole new ballgame. "You realise he's reported it stolen?"

"Because he was drunk off his ass and gave it out to a woman he'd never met before in, as it turned out, tragically unfounded hopes of getting laid?" She raised her eyebrows pointedly. "Yeah, I'm not surprised."

Sam frowned, and rubbed his face. "Um, if you don't mind me asking... Since you obviously weren't that impressed with his 'affections'... why did you accept the watch?"

Timberland shrugged slightly, and considered. "I don't know, really. Because he was a jerk, because he was following me around all night and he wouldn't take no for an answer... because, you know what? Anybody who thinks they can bribe girls into leaping into bed with them with some expensive jewellery deserves exactly what they get."

He supposed she had a point... and there was a certain cruelly appropriate justice to it. If he'd spent the whole night trying to take advantage of her, why shouldn't she take advantage of him in return by tripping him up in his own egotistically grandiose gesture?

"It turns out the watch was a present from his wife, of great sentimental value to her," he pointed out, neutrally. She gave a darkly amused grin.

"Really?" She stretched her arm out to admire the watch. "Well, that makes it all the more delicious."

Sam almost had to smile at her shameless glee over the troublesome net the ambassador had snared himself in. "He's threatening to go to the papers with the story that it was stolen from him in the White House if he doesn't get it back by this afternoon," he warned.

She shrugged. "Then I'll be more than happy to set the record straight. I have no interest in embarrassing the White House, Mr. Seaborn... only certain people who most definitely deserve to be embarrassed."

"You're not prepared to give it back, then?" he wondered. That could be potentially very sticky, especially if the ambassador continued to assert that the watch had actually been stolen, not freely given. If it came down to his word against hers, the fact that he was a drunken idiot would, unfortunately, likely count less than the fact that he was an appointed ambassador to their country.

"Oh, yes, I'll be giving it back," she smiled. She pulled the watch from her wrist and inspected it casually. "In fact, just to save him the trouble, I think maybe I should go out of my way to drop in at the hotel, and give it to his wife myself. After all, he did make such a production of telling me his room number."

Sam had to allow a small smirk to break the surface. "Okay." He stood up. " Well, thank you very much for your time, Miss Timberland. You've been a great help. And I'll be... absolutely delighted... to convey the good news about his watch to the ambassador."

She snickered appreciatively as she got out of her seat to join him. "Room for one more on that conference call?"

Sam grinned back. "I don't see why not." He held the door for her. "After you," he gestured politely.