At the end of the first chapter, I originally had a really long author's note to justify my writing this, but I moved it into my profile. So, see that if you want to read it. But, I warn you: it's boring.

"One of the Secret Service cars just got into an accident," Donna said, running in.

"What?"

"It's on CNN."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, Josh? One of the SUVs transporting someone just crashed."

Josh's expression was one of utter shellshock.

"Was it the Congressman?"

"I don't know."

"Leo? Vinick? Sullivan? The President?"

"No one knows right now, Josh."

"Could it just be a Senator?"

"I don't know."

The silence in the room was palpable with neither one knowing what to say next, glued to the televisions with each news channel reporting the story.

"Do we know who was in the car!"

"Congressman," Josh and Donna said at the same time, a sense of relief evident as Santos walked into the room.

"This is – has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Uh—" Josh said, glancing at Donna, "not to our knowledge, sir."

"Are they thinking there's foul play involved?"

"We don't even know from whose camp the car came, sir," Donna replied, "but it seems fairly unlikely due to how it occurred."

"Let me know if there's any news," the Congressman said, walking out of the room.

Josh began to pace around. If felt as if every one of his nerves were on fire. Who had it been in the car? he thought to himself. Either way, I bet it's someone I care about, someone I love. Of course. It has to be. People only die when I'm involved. Why couldn't it just have been Vinick or Sullivan?

"Jesus!" Josh exclaimed in the silence, throwing his hand down on the back of the chair with his forehead following.

"Josh? What's wrong?" He was unresponsive, raising Donna's level of fear. "Josh? Josh, did you figure out who was in the car?"

"NO, DONNA!" he yelled, forcing Donna to instinctively take a few steps backward. "It's just that – God dammit Donna, why do I have to act like this?"

"What?" she asked, nearly speechless.

"I just – I just freaking wished that it was either Vinick or Sullivan in the car."

"Oh, Josh."

"I just made a death wish on our opponents – I wished a death wish on someone, Donna. And I was serious about it. I don't want it to be someone here hurt. But what right do I have to be wishing ill will towards people – innocents? Democrat or not, I shouldn't be saying these things. Jesus! What kind of psychotic sick-o am I?"

Donna walked over towards Josh and took one of his hands in hers, rubbing it lightly. She had seen Josh like this before. It scared her now as much as it did then. Though the conditions had always been entirely different, every time he reacted in a self-destructive way, Donna became upset. She had a reason to.

"You are not a sick-o, Josh," she said, trying to the best of her ability to comfort him. She knew the words didn't sound right; they sounded contrite and stupid, but there was nothing else she could do. "You're just praying for it to be someone you wouldn't have rather gotten inside the car instead of them a million times over. You wish it hadn't happened, but you just don't want it to be someone you'd die for. And, plus, Josh, they haven't confirmed any deaths yet."

He snorted, stealing his hand away.

"Yeah, like there won't be any deaths in that. You saw the wreckage. It's like someone thought that the telephone pole was a Christmas tree and decided to deck the halls with a GMC Suburban. Because, you know, there's no way tinsel would work. You're much better off with a nice big SUV wrapped around it. Oh, and don't forget to take some human lives with it, too, while you're at it," Josh bellowed, pulling his hand away and waving both his hands around frantically.

"Josh."

"And it's not even Christmas yet, Donna! These early birds just decided 'Hey! I feel like spreading some yuletide cheer today! Let's go!' and they went out and did their thing. Dammit Donna, everyone ends up hurt with me!"

Before Donna could get a word in, Lou ran into the room.

"It's Leo."