Chapter 51

For the second time that night, V. put aside the files she was working on.  Rising from the bed, she stretched before she reached over and started to reorganize the contents of the files more out of habit than necessity.  Rolling her head as she put the stack of files onto the end table she caught sight of the clock and frowned.  It wasn't like Jax to stay downstairs for so long, even after an argument.

Concerned, she crossed the room and went down the hall.  Quietly, she crept down the stairs and into the living room to see him lying on the couch, half asleep, with a file on his lap.  "Jax, you should come to bed," she said softly. 

"I've got too much to get done," he said gruffly.

"You're going to fall asleep while you're doing it."

"So what if I do?"

Sighing, V. turned and went back up the stairs with a heavy heart, suddenly feeling at a lost.  She needed to get out of here.  To go somewhere.  Talk to someone.  Hurrying her movements, she went back into her bedroom and to the closet.  Once there she pulled out the first outfit she could and shrugged out of her robe, trying to convince herself that she wasn't running away from Jax and the problems that were appearing. Rather, she was waiting till they could discuss them rationally. . .

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Justus sat in his darkened apartment as he looked over the list of the women who had been bought off in one form or another to keep them from quiet about AJ's antics, as well as the notations of what the payoffs had been.  There were transfers, promotions, jobs arranged elsewhere, secrets kept, and in some cases, good old fashioned cash payoffs.

Tapping his pencil against the edge of  his desk, he tried to ignore the voice in his head, not unsurprisingly like Grammy Mae's, asking him why he was doing this.  Part of him wanted to answer 'for family,' it was an answer his late grandmother would have understood in theory, but more than likely wouldn't in this application.  And frankly, he wasn't sure he did either.

Disgusted with himself, he dropped the pencil onto the desk and pushed himself away from it.  Rising, he moved across the room to turn on a light wondering as he did when his work was something he felt needed to be done in the dark.

There had been a time when it was done with lights blazing and with pride.

A time when he had worked for the people and dreamed of following in his father's footsteps and going into politics.

But then things had changed.

He had changed.

He had become some he hadn't known he could be.

There had been the fire he had caused.

The death that had resulted from it.

The guilty verdict of an innocent client he had represented.

Being blackmailed.

Going to work for his 'gangster' cousin.

Dirty dealings getting dirtier.

Losing Keesha and the woman he loved.

Losing a family he was trying to form.

Losing the replacement.

And his downward spiral probably would have continued if he hadn't have heard of her death.  If he hadn't have gone back to see the children he had once hoped to be a father to.  To be forced with the knowledge that time had passed and left only vague recognition in a woman child's eyes and distaste in those of a young man who had been forced to grow up too soon, and quite possibly too hard.

"You don't have any right to be here.  To try to judge us.  Go back to your new life and stay the hell out of ours,"  the young man had yelled at him, surprising Justus with the amount of disgust and anger that had been thrown at him.

He didn't have the chance to counter as a man came up behind them asking if there was any thing wrong.  He hadn't missed the tone, or gun that had been concealed under the new arrival's suit coat.  Had been concerned as he watched the boy grab a suit jacket, give a couple of reminders to his sister, and then leave with the man. 

There was nothing he could do, at least not then. 

He should've been there sooner.

Should've fought for them more.

They had deserved better.

Still deserved better than the man he now was.

After all, the kid had been right. 

He didn't have any room to judge.

Maybe someday.

Just not while he was cleaning up these messes. . .

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Leo sat at the small desk and reread the papers that Margaret had faxed him.  Sighing, he made a notation in the margin, closed the file, and took off his glasses.

With annoyance, he rose to his feet and started pacing the room.  He hated being unable to do anything to help those he cared about.  Unthinkingly, he crossed the room to the wet bar and started making a drink.  As he picked up the glass and brought it to his lips, he cursed under his breath.  "What the hell am I doing?" he asked the air, before putting it down and starting to root through the area for a bottle of water. 

Rising with the water in his hand, he recrossed the room while uncapping it, worry creeping in.  He knew that what had just happened was not good.  He couldn't slip up now.  He had been sober for too long, but there were times when old habits. . . Shaking his head, he sat back down in a chair and looked around him. 

It wasn't that he was uncomfortable in a hotel.  Hell, he had spent the better part of the last four years of his life living in one.  It was more than that.  He had once accused Josh of being a compulsive fixer, but the truth of the matter was that he was one too.  He had been one for more years than he could remember, and right now his hands were tied.

He couldn't help Donna. 

He couldn't help Josh.

And from the look of it he couldn't seem to do much for himself either. 

Angry with himself, he placed the water bottle onto the end table and rose.  There wasn't a meeting he could find.  It was too late for him to call Lee.  But maybe he could solve one of his problems. 

Mind set on a goal, he grabbed his key and exited his room.  Ignoring the handful of Secret Service Agents, he moved to the elevator and pushed the button.  As soon as it arrived he stepped into it and pressed the floor number he needed.  His foot tapped against the floor as he waited for the elevator to finish its descent.  Once the doors opened he stepped out, paused for a moment to get his bearings, and then moved down the hall, stopped outside of the room, and knocked.

"Now what?" the occupant said crankily as she pulled open the door.  "Sam, I swear to G-d. . ." she added before stopping as she saw who was standing there. 

"Something I should know about you and Sam?" Leo asked with a slight frown.

"He wishes," Mallory shot back as she stepped back to let her father into her room.  "He came by looking for absolution."

"You give it to him?"

"Do I look like a priest?"

"He's not Catholic," Leo shot back as he sat on the edge of his daughter's bed and watched her latch the door.

"Semantics," Mallory sighed as she turned and looked at him, her hands running through her hair as she looked at him tiredly.  "What are you doing here? I was trying to get some sleep.  I do have an interview in the morning."

"Yeah, so I heard."

"What's with the tone?"

"What tone?"

"That tone," Mallory answered back as she crossed the room and sat next to him. 

"I almost took a drink," Leo informed evenly.

"I see.  My interview to blame, or something else?"

Leo turned and looked at her surprised, "my drinking isn't about you or any one else.  I almost drank because I wasn't thinking.  I just poured the damned thing, because in times of stress that's what I used to do."

"Why'd you come here?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure," Leo answered as he rose to his feet.  "I just. . . Mallory, what have I done to us?"

"I don't understand."

"When did I make it so bad that you couldn't even tell me you were interviewing some place other than DC?"

"This isn't about you, Dad," Mallory admitted, "this is about me not wanting to be overshadowed any more.  I just need to be some place where I'm not Leo McGarry's daughter."

"It's that bad?"

Mal laughed slightly at that, "no.  I'm just tired of not having my own life. Besides, you're moving on, why can't I?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have other people.  I get that.  You don't need me hanging around."

"How can you say. . ." Leo stopped, shaking his head, unable to continue as he sat back down, next to her.

"Easily," Mallory answered as she looked at him, her eyes looking at the wall beyond his shoulders.  "You didn't tell me about Ainsley till you had no other choice.  You always cancel on me.  You didn't even tell me about Donna!"

"I didn't think. . ."

"No, you never really do.  Daddy, I haven't been your little girl in a long time.  First it was the pills and drinking and then. . . well, they're more your family than I am."

"I really screwed things up, didn't I?" he asked, not expecting an answer as he reached over and took her hand.  "Honey, I didn't know you felt this way.  I'm sorry if that's how I made you feel, but there were a lot of times when I felt that you didn't want to be involved.  To know those things. I used to invite you to things, but you'd turn me down."

"Most of the time they involved your job, and I knew that you'd end up working through it or disappearing half way through."

"There were other times too and times since then."

"Maybe we're both to blame then," Mal sighed.  "I don't know.  But I do need to do this, although if I don't get some sleep. . ."

"I get your point," Leo sighed as he rose and kissed her forehead.  "Just promise me something."

"What?"

"You get this job, you let me take you out to dinner to celebrate."

"OK," she agreed as she rose to follow him to the door.  "You going to be OK?"

"Yeah.  I'll call and have them take the stuff out of the room in the morning.  I'll also call Lee," he admitted softly.  "Good luck tomorrow, Kiddo," he added as he crossed over the threshold and started down the hall.

Shaking her head, Mallory watched him leave wondering what had just happened before closing the door and going back to bed.

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Sam walked down the corridor of the hotel wondering why he was taking this path.  He tried to rationalize it that he was using her to get information, but he knew that wasn't the whole truth and that he didn't want to dig deeper into his reasoning.  Mal's accusations had hurt. He wasn't just using Skye as a divergence--- but he was using her, a voice taunted.

Stopping outside of the room he had vacated a little over an hour ago, he contemplated his options before reaching out and knocking on the door.  He needed the divergence that sex with Skye would bring, and hoped to somehow get information out of her in the process.

"Grandfather, I swear to g-d!" Skye started testily as she yanked open the door, sagging slightly as she realized it was Sam.

"If you're expecting someone else. . ." Sam shrugged cheekily as he gave her a knee melting smile.

"I figured you weren't coming back," she admitted as she stepped back to let him in.

"Yeah, well, I had to clear my head."

"There are other ways to clear your mind you know," Skye pouted as she closed and locked the door.

"A woman like you fills one."

"Nice line," she replied, not exactly impressed.

"I try," Sam smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed and watched her move around the room.

"How's your friend?" Skye asked after a few moments of silence she sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her hands as they twisted and untwisted the belt of her robe.

"Holding her own," he finally answered, causing Skye's head to go up at the tone of his voice.

"The injuries worse than you thought?"

"Why would you ask that?"

Skye shrugged, "you seemed thrown when you got that call is all."

Sam closed his eyes at the word thrown, trying to remind himself that she couldn't know. "Yeah, it's worse."

"Who's her doctor?"

"I forget his name," Sam hedged.

"Oh," Skye sighed as she glanced back down at her hands.  "She's at General Hospital?"

"Yeah."

"They're good there.  It's one of the best on the Eastern seaboard."

"Given the choice would you go there?"

"Given the choice I wouldn't be in one," she shot back.  "But, it would be one of my top picks."

"But not the top one?"

"I'm kinda partial to PVUH.  But that's because with my family, I'd get more peace there.  Joe Martin can handle Adam better than Alan can Edward and company."

"Speaking of family, you never did say what was going on with your brother."

Skye laughed as she patted Sam's knee and rose to her feet, "nice seg way there."

"I just don't feel like focusing on myself or my friend at the moment," he replied as he looked up at her.

"I'm sure I can find something else for you to focus on," she smiled as she slid onto his lap and leaned in to kiss him.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, Sam accepted the divergence she was offering.  Falling back onto the bed, he continued the kiss while he slid his hands under her robe and hers did some exploring of their own.

Breaking the kiss, she pulled back to work on his belt and zipper while he pulled her robe off of her shoulders--- just as her cell phone rang.

Cursing, Skye pushed away from him and pulled her robe back up her arms.  "Don't answer it," Sam begged as he sat up and reached for her.

"It could be about my brother," Skye explained as she moved to grab the phone.  "I didn't complain when you got a call about your friend."

"We weren't in the middle of —you know— when I got the call."

"No, but we could've been," Skye retorted as she picked up the phone.  "Chandler-Quartermain. ..  yeah, hold on a second," lowering the phone and covering the mouthpiece, she looked at Sam who was now lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.  "This shouldn't take long, we'll continue this when I'm done."

"If I'm still up to it," Sam muttered wearily as she ran a hand over his face, suddenly extremely tired.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to get a rise out of you," she teased before heading into the bathroom, pausing slightly to watch him before closing the door.  Shaking off the bit of guilt she was carrying she raised her cell to her ear.  "So what have you got for me?"

"You know you could've just said I was interrupting something," the voice on the other end taunted.

"What, wanna live vicariously there?" she shot back as she perched on the edge of the tub.

"I've got someone."

"Ever hear the term 'jail bait?'"

"She's legal."

"Only slightly more so than your son."

"You calling me old there, because if I'm not forgetting, you're about the same age as me."

"You're still a couple of years older than me, and I happen to date people in my own age range."

"So do I.  I just have a broader definition of age range."

"Tad, one of these days you're going to have to grow up."

"So you people keep telling me."

Rolling her eyes, Skye couldn't help but laugh at him.  "So, if she's keeping you so busy why are you calling me?"

"She's out of town," he answered, his shrug clear over the phone.  "Anyway, you made it sound urgent.  I don't make important clients wait."

"So I'm an important client now, am I?"

"Do you want the information I have or not?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Seaborne left your father's employ for bigger cases that he was in charge of at Gage Whitley.  He left them as he was about to gain the position of junior partner."

"Why?

"Bartlett for America."

"Huh?"

"He took a position on Josiah Bartlett's campaign staff during his bid for Presidency and then stayed on as a speech writer during the administration.  When Bartlett left office, Seaborne got his job at Gage Whitley back."

"So then there's no connection between him and Donna Moss."

"Actually, there could be."

"How? Before she worked for Jax she worked for an Economics professor."

"You sure about that?"

"That's the word about town anyway."

"Well, that's weird because when I heard Seaborne worked for Bartlett I gave Craig Nelson a call.  He works for one of the embassies you know."

"Yeah. Enid's mentioned it a number of times."

"Sounds about right.  Any way, I played a hunch and asked him if he'd also heard of her.  He recognized her name, but couldn't place why.  He was going to ask around."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer?" she muttered.

"Skye?"

"Just call me when you have more, and Tad, thanks. . ."

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Sam stayed on the bed for a few moments after Skye went into the bathroom.  Rolling over, he caught sight of a notepad on the table near the phone.  Glancing at the bathroom door and seeing nothing but the light seeping through, he rose and moved to the desk.

Carefully, he turned on the desk lamp as he picked up the notepad and started to scan the page.  It only took him a moment to realize that what he held in his hand was a list of women whom AJ Quartermain had been harassing and their pay offs. . .

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Skye sat on the corner of the tub tapping the cell phone against her leg as she thought over her 'situation' with Sam.  Truth be told, she was the one who had instigated this tryst.

But he had to know something.

He had been fishing for information about AJ, and she didn't think it was out of concern--- at least not any more.

Yet, how could he know Donna? And why was it that she was now questioning the young woman's former employ.  "I'll just have to have Tad dig deeper into it," she muttered as she moved to the door and open it, just in time to watch Sam replay the pad and turn off the light.

Sighing, she looked down and closed the door before he could see her.  Leaning against it, she reminded herself that she now had the upper hand.  She now knew who his 'friend' was, all she had to do was figure out how to use it to her advantage.