Chapter Two

The sound of something crackling against wood woke Christine. She reached drowsily over to the lit screen of her phone and taking in the unpleasant dog breath of Cloe. The dog yawned widely in her face, as Christine unconsciously chose to receive the call from a number she didn't recognize. A computer recording of a half-way pleasant female voice reached her ear.

"This is a call from the Zone Five Police Station. Press One to accept this call or hang up to decline it."

Immediately becoming more aware of her senses, yet wondering if this could be a dream from all her television exposure to prisons only an hour earlier, she sat up. Cloe unhappily slid off her chest and huffed on her way off the couch. Pressing One on her phone's touchpad keyboard, she hastily put the phone back up to her ear and waited.

"Please hold." the recording said.

There was a moment of silence as Christine waited for another voice to come to her from across the line. The apartment around her was still, the computer was now in an off mode after she fell asleep with it on, the lamp over the couch was still lit, and Cloe was now walking over to the kitchen area for a messy drink of water. It was surprising how quiet the neighborhood was around her and she wondered if something were wrong elsewhere for it to be this calm. Sitting up, she stretched her legs out in front of her as nerves begin to pick up as a new fear came to her mind.

As soon as the thought came to her, there was a click in her ear and she held her breath as she heard a heavy, "Christine?" on the other side.

It took her a moment to figure out who the gruff tired voice on the other end was.

"Raoul?"

"Yeah, I uh… I'm not feeling so hot."

She knew that tone all too well. Her eyes narrowed.

"Raoul, what happened?"

"Look…I'll take care of the bail…I just need you to pick me up. The won't let me drive."

She was getting angry now, "Tell me what happened."

"I will, I…Please just," he was pleading, "just get me out of here before anyone else sees."

"I don't have a car…" She responded dryly, "Do I have to get yours? Or will a taxi be okay?"

"Mine is uh… Yeah, get a taxi. I can't get out of here unless someone comes for me. Some stupid rule about…"

There was a pause as she waited for him to continue, only hearing him breathe instead. She took a painful gulp before asking her dreaded question, "Raoul are you…have you been drinking?"

He started off loudly, "Don't-" seemed to remember himself and continued, "Don't ask that…just, just come okay? I'll pay for everything."

A heavy sigh escaped her as she stood up and nearly fell back over, "Fine."

"Thanks," He said long and breathily.

She waited for a second to see if he said anything else, but the phone call soon ended with a "The call has now timed out. Goodbye."

Grabbing her purse, and thankful that she never changed out of her clothes from the day before - despite how wrinkled they had become from lounging in them - she took one last look at Cloe who was now wagging her tail by the door.

"Sorry girl," she sighed, "I'll be back to let you out in…I don't even know what time it is." She looked to the microwave clock that flashed 2:30 AM in green lights. This time the sound came from her mouth was more like a growl, "I'd better be back in four hours."

Walking closer to the door, she looked to Cloe again, "Looks like I won't be sleeping tonight after all."

The dog barked and scratched at the door.

"Sorry girl," Christine was unlocking the deadbolt and taking out Meg's keys, "I'll be back as soon as I can. Really."

Sliding through the door and locking it behind her, she faintly heard a few whimpers from Cloe before paws and claws tapped lightly across the wood floor towards where the couch was. Narrowing her eyes, Christine didn't know if she was more worried or angry. She had worked so hard to gloss over any disagreeable parts of Raoul's past last year and now everything could be ruined, her job included. Still, there was no time or energy to think on that. The thought of what kind of dingy taxi she would have to encounter was already striking an unhappy chord with her.

"I'd better not have to pay for this." She said under her breath as she hailed the nearest cab. There was no time to wait for a Lyft and she didn't want to be tracked anyway.

Raoul sat in a surprisingly empty cell room. It had been a quiet night for the officers, otherwise, he wouldn't have been caught. He closed his eyes against the cruel florescent lights and tried to replay what had happened only a few hours prior.

"License and registration please."

"You don't know who I am?"

"Have you been drinking this evening?"

"Look, officer, there are people all around here that deserve to be caught. I literally just saw a homeless chick suck a guy off for crack. That's a much bigger offence, don't you think? So how about you just let me go."

"Step out of the vehicle sir."

"You can't be serious."

"Step out of the vehicle."

"I'm a congressman, pops. I can break you."

"Is that a threat? Get out of the car now!"

He faintly remembered someone telling him to stop the car when blue and red lights started flashing. He was sure that the lights couldn't be for him. Why didn't anyone care who he was? A young woman in braids was screaming at him and then he was screaming at her to shut up. Who was that woman again? How did he meet her? It didn't even matter…the problem was that she was in his car and it wasn't Christine. He didn't know what happened to the other woman after he went to the station.

The drinks were beginning to fade out of him leaving only a queasy feeling in his stomach and a slight feeling that his eyes were splitting farther apart from each other. He wanted to sleep, but that wouldn't do any good for when it woke up. At least the bail wasn't an issue…He'd have to figure out a way to get his car back from the tow lot. It was unlikely that it was still outside whatever park he pulled over at. At that point, he only hoped it hadn't been stolen. Lastly, he would also have to face his closeted girlfriend.

For what good was a closeted girlfriend? Half of him hoped that she hadn't have been so good at her job. That way, it wouldn't have been as difficult to date someone in the office, but no, she had to be the most competent and hardest worker around. She wasn't supposed to be that good at the job! She was only supposed to stay long enough to get back on her feet and move. Then, they were going to date officially where none of this would be a problem…but she had made herself irreplaceable even in Washington. It didn't help that he, being a first-time congressman, and a younger one at that, was not the top of the line of constituents to work for.

The fact was, Raoul missed having beautiful women around him. He missed catching them when they fell after a few drinks when their heals were too high. There was an exciting spark there. Christine certainly had grown up and she wasn't trashy like them. A woman like Christine demanded respect without having to ask. She was a real woman and yet Raoul missed having one night with a girl or two at a time, then being able to go out again the next weekend for more…but of course, that was before he ran for office. Once in office, he had to be responsible, to be clean and shiny for everyone. Christine was meant to be a girl who could look clean and shiny with him.

There was still a possibility with Christine. She was a rare kind of natural beauty, the kind that doesn't require so much makeup, who can leave her hair down or put it up and still come off as a professional, someone who dressed well enough to fit in, and it always seemed as if she had high lights in her blonde hair, but she only ever went to a salon to get a cut. Christine actually had a clean record. She was someone he could have look glorious on his arm and someone who was all too willing to stay at home when he wanted to go out. She just couldn't find out about the other women. It was nothing personal. If anything, it was drunken desires and short-sightedness. Christine was the long-sightedness. She was what actually mattered to him.

Head resting in hands, elbows resting on knees, he was close to falling asleep when the sound of two pairs of footsteps was heard hitting the linoleum floor. Nothing was said, there was only the clashing of metal keys against one another and the squeal of the bar door being opened. Raoul looked up painfully and almost fell over once his eyes focused on half a face he recognized.

"Congressman…Underwood?"

"You valuables are at the front desk. Let's leave."

Raoul couldn't believe who he was looking at and was ready to stay in the cell. This could ruin him. This could absolutely get him removed from his position. A senior representative such as Underwood only had to snap his fingers to make people like him come and go. Everyone knew that Underwood was the real reason Walker had been nominated for the Democrat's's pick for president. His mind began to spin, trying to think of any possible reasons why Erik Underwood might want to politically destroy him.

"Now, Peters."

This time, Raoul did not hesitate and wobbled straight to the opening bars. The cop began to escort the two of them towards the front desk where Raoul's belongings were already waiting for him. He gathered up his keys, wallet, and phone in one big scoop between his two hands and began to shove everything back into his pockets. The objects were not fitting as smoothly as he would have liked as his hands were now moist from anxiety.

On the way out the door, Raoul took a quick look around for a taxi, but when seeing none from the steps, he focused his head towards the tall man in a finely tailored suit as the same man walked towards his custom-made and otherwise unassuming BMW. The driver held the door open and Erik stood on the other side, gesturing Raoul inside. The while mask of the man shined in the tainted yellow street lights and Raoul made sure to get into the vehicle as quickly as possibly to avoid anyone from seeing him. At the same time, even with the police station being a dodgy area, he had a strong feeling that no one would be recognizing him anyway.

Once inside, the door was slammed shut and Erik was with him on the other side. No further instructions were given to the driver before the engine started and they began to move forward. This meant they would be talking on the journey to the other side of town. Raoul drowsily looked back at Underwood with his head heavy on his shoulders.

"Buckle your seat belt." Erik said quietly, "I won't have you making another mistake tonight, especially under my watch."

Raoul followed as commanded and sloppily slipped the buckle in place.

"How are you feeling?" Underwood asked. It was not a question of care, it was a question of expectation.

"I'm…fine," Raoul responded cautiously.

"Fine is an understatement." Erik continued as he crossed his legs casually, "You reek of liquor and the girl they found you with was a prostitute. The report also mentioned you having threatened a police official. Anything else you want to add?"

Raoul took an uneasy gulp and tugged his short finger nails into his knees, "That's… That should be all."

"Good."

Raoul attempted to collect himself, "She never said she was a prostitute-"

"I don't care," Erik clipped.

With a furrowed brow, Raoul's eyes looked out of the tinted window. Even with the tint, the yellow lights rushing by were not a welcome sight as the feeling of a headache became all too real. His gaze fell.

"How did you get my police file?" Raoul asked wearily.

"It's awe-striking what one can do when in my position. But, you're not in my position are you? You tried to play games of power tonight, didn't you? Thought your good looks would be memorable to some aging police officer who could care less who you are or where you're from. How tastefully ironic that it is my face that so easily walked into the station. Everyone knew who I was. That is power."

The younger man sighed and tried not to think of everything that was about to crash down around him. "And what are you planning to do with this information, Mr. Underwood."

"Dr. Underwood," Erik chanted casually, "If you will not refer to me as Congressman, you ought to be aware that I hold three P.H.D.'s."

"Excuse me," Raoul said through gritted teeth

"I may be able to do just that Mr. Peters."

Raoul looked up suddenly to find that Dr. Underwood's look met his eyes. He had never noticed that one of Underwood's eyes behind the mask had a lighter pigment of green, if not almost gray, to it. His focus shifted a little, but not before Underwood continued.

"I will clear your record of this entire night. I may even decided to keep this from your half-brother if it suits me. In return, I expect something from you."

"I…" Raoul thought a little harder on his words before saying something to dig him deeper in what he was in, "What do you want from me?"

"Loyalty." The word fell off Erik's tongue like a drop of honey.

"Loyalty? How so?" Raoul took a hold of his stomach as it began to move against the rhythm of the car.

"There is water in the cooler next to your seat. Do not get sick in here."

Raoul nodded painfully as he groped his hand to get the handle to the cooler. Finding the water, he quickly brought the bottle to his chest, tore off the plastic cap, and was drinking steadily. The world was not still and he was trying to do everything to catch up with it before it showed up all over Underwood's finely made vehicle.

"Do not make a mess either." Erik added with disgusted dread.

"Sorry- thank you." Raoul said once the entire bottle of water was gone and disposed of in a nearby chute.

"As I was saying," He continued after clearing his throat, "What I require from you is no less than unquestionable loyalty. If I ask something of you, you will need to go through with it. Is that understood?"

"What kind of things are you wanting here?" Raoul asked slowly as he realized he didn't know what kind of man he was dealing with at all.

"I will assist you in your political career by not exposing you for your crimes this evening and you will assist me in what I find most usefully. It ought not to be so difficult to comprehend. This is all rather professional considering other under-the-table deals happening around here. Do we have a deal? Or should I notify the press? A nice Saturday morning headline is what is currently in store for you."

Erik was looking at him again, his form seemed a lot taller and intimidating as the street lights behind him cast his face in shadow. Raoul couldn't even make out his mask or eyes anymore. What exactly was he making a deal to? At the same time, while the stakes were very high, Erik was certainly higher, Erik was in the key to the power, and while Raoul had no intentions of gaining any further power per se, to have an ally in Erik, even if it was more akin to slavery, may not have to be such a terrible thing. It wasn't like he had much a choice anyway.

"How long?" Raoul questioned slowly.

"For as long as necessary, hopefully not a while. You tire me with questions. You're either choosing to keep a future politically with me, or you choose to go back to whatever you had before Washington. A mother in Pittsburg, I believe? A disappointed brother you'll never measure up to? How exhilarating."

Raoul's brow furrowed further. This man was much more than he was expecting. He either threw in the cards, or had the chair taken out from under him.

Taking a painful dry swallow he voiced as decidedly as he could, "Deal."

"Good." Erik turned back to the window and now seemed more interested in the passing row houses of Georgetown, "I would shake your hand, but I have no idea where it's been tonight and would rather not catch a disease. It appears we're almost at your residency. We have no more to discuss."

"But when will I know what you'll need of me?"

Erik's eyes narrowed in distaste, "I have your number. I think I can figure it out."

"Oh…right."

As if the entire conversation had been rehearsed and timed for accuracy, the car pulled up to the curb side of his house. Erik looked at it closer and mentioned, "The Kennedy's lived here before moving to the White House, didn't they?"

"Are you a historian too?" Raoul asked wearily.

"Of sorts." Erik looked out of the window again, "Is that another of your ladies? If it is you should move so they can no longer find you."

Raoul looked up and cursed, "No that's my…my she's more like a…it's complicated."

"Is that a complication with or without a money transaction?"

"Without…without. Look, if there's nothing else you want-"

"Nothing immediately."

"Good."

And with that, Raoul was walking towards his stoop where a very angry and exhausted Christine sat next to the door with her head in her hands.

Whether it was coincidence or not, Christine's cab was stopped at a light just before turning into the police station. From the light, she watched as her own complication walked freely out the door with a very tall dark man. He appeared nervous as he looked around and Christine couldn't figure out for the life of her who that was as no one in his office was that tall, and neither were any of his close friends. Just before the cab turned in, the taller man went from the side of what could have easily been an armored BMW where Raoul had just gotten in, to the opposite side of the car. It was then that Christine saw in the pale lamp light of the streets a distinct half-faced white mask.

"Underwood," she breathed in disbelief.

"Tomffing wron?" The cab driver asked under a heavy accent from a place Christine was having issues placing.

"No, just ah…" The BMW was now making a U-turn out of the residential street. Her immediate instinct was to instruct the cabbie to follow the BMW, but she thought better of it as this was a serious, if not dangerous matter that she would be embarking on. The cab was now in front of the police station.

"Cash or creed?"

Christine looked back at the driver as he looked right back at her through his rear view mirror.

"I've changed my mind." Christine spoke as she watched the BMW disappear into the darkness of the streets behind them. "Will you take me to Twenty-O-Eight P Street Northwest? Georgetown, please."

"Ohay."

Fortunately, once arriving, she didn't have to wait too long with her thoughts before Raoul showed up. The ride across town seemed long enough to be stuck with all the "What if?" scenarios. Would she ever get a quiet night to herself ever again? While having a job was definitely a necessity that she never thought she would obtain in D.C., she did start to see the bags under her eyes grow. Her shoulders began to droop more when she wasn't looking, and her weight had decreased. Was it all the job? Or was it just Raoul…too much of Raoul. Still, what choice did she have? She didn't want to lose her job over a broken relationship and she didn't feel it likely that anyone else was going to hire her with hardly a year of experience on her resume. Things had been looking dismal for a while, why did this have to happen on top of them?

Now out of the car and after coving an crushingly high fee that she wished she could forget, she climbed the two steps up the stoop and sat back down. There was too much energy being asked of her if she had to stand and the rest of the night was already reserved for what was looking to be a fight. The air wasn't warm, but it wasn't chilly either and she had brought a very sturdy and warm pea coat with her. A bat flew over the street lamps, a car drove by a block away, and finally, a familiar BMW pulled up to the curb.

She waited until Raoul Peters was in front of her.

"Christine-" he was holding his arms out to her and she didn't return the gesture.

"Can we go inside first?" she asked dryly.

"Yeah…" He lowered his arms and the relief of seeing her had faded into a new sadness as he took out his keys, "Yeah, right…"

Once inside, she made her way straight to the kitchen, turning on lights as she went.

"Ahh, could you chill on the lights, please?" Raoul moaned.

"No." Was her short reply, "I'm going to make tea. You should take an aspirin and drink some water. We need to talk."

"Please babe," He had followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the bar, "Can this please wait till tomorrow?"

"No," she sat a full kettle of water harshly down on the stove top and lit the burners, "I have to leave tonight to take out Cloe at six. If you didn't want to talk tonight, you shouldn't have called, especially seeing as you already had a ride. Were you going to at least text me to let me know you wouldn't be there when I arrived?" She turned around, "And when did you and Erik Underwood become such good friends?"

All of the adrenaline from earlier was making him fade and he dropped his head to the cold granite counter, "We're not…friends."

"Then?"

When he didn't respond, Christine went to the cupboard, took out a large glass, filled it with water, then slapped it down hard right in front of Raoul making him jump.

"What?!"

"Tell me everything so both of us can get some sleep."

It took a very long time for Raoul to finally get the entire story out, but Christine was gifted with great patience. According to him, he had started out the night at the H Street Country Club. He had dinner there with a friend of his from college, and they decided to move to Rock And Roll Hotel for a show that was playing on the roof. They continued drinking and finally ended up at a club called Lil' Miss Whiskey's. Christine had heard of all of these places, but wasn't as familiar with the Atlas Corridor. The reputation it had received was that either young professionals and new yuppies went there for a casual night, or richer Georgetown wealth would venture towards the area to feel as if they were living on the wild side, pretending that they were ever in any harms way. The area was newly gentrified, but the city often boasted an over dose of police officers so that unless someone were really off the beaten path, they were in no more danger from someone begging for change than anyone else.

Christine decided to keep her opinions to herself when it came to where Raoul decided to go have a night out. Instead, she kept to the facts.

"So you got drunk and decided to drive."

"I couldn't leave my car out there all night." Raoul was speaking to the bar face down with his arms wrapped up around his head, "Do you know how expensive it is? I could buy a house in that neighborhood with my car!"

"And now it's probably either stolen or towed." She spit back, "You shouldn't have gone out driving your own car in the first place."

"Not all of us are happy to coop ourselves up every weekend." He spit right back.

For a second she was taken aback by the remark. It was such a mean thing to say after all that she had done for his crumbling office. For him! She thought about returning the comment, to remind him of the situation he was in. There was a part of her that wanted to, a big part of her. Still, she was able to think generally clearly even as tired and upset as she was. Her thoughts reminded her of the fear of homelessness that she once had and she shut her mouth. The fact was, Raoul had money. This would never be a problem for him even if the entire world did find out. This instead could be a huge problem for her.

"How does Underwood come into this?" She asked, putting her dark thoughts behind her.

"I'm not sure," He said honestly, "Maybe he saw me when I was pulled over? I don't know. He has all kinds of sources. And now I'm his slave or something…" his voice faded away.

"Wait. What?" Christine finally sat down on a stool. She felt as if the floor would get too close if she didn't meet it half way first.

"I don't know. He said he would kill my record from tonight and save my political career if I do things for him."

"What kind of things?" She asked slowly.

"Not those kinds of things!"

"Come on, like you never thought it? He's never shown any interest in anyone or anything besides politics. He must have some secret life, right? And now you're a part of it?"

Raoul placed his head in his hands, "I don't know… He says he'll tell me what he wants once it comes up or something."

Christine took the last sip of her tea and decided it was time for her to go. She didn't even want to check the time in the event it told her something she didn't want to know. As she stood, she took her mug to the sink and filled the cup with water before placing it in the dish washer. The maid he had hired was really good this time. The sink was spotless and the dishwasher was empty. It must have been nice to have a maid. She shook her head.

Taking her coat and putting it on, she saw his head slink up.

"You're not really leaving are you?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Yes, I am. Cloe, remember?"

"Damn the dog, come on! I just had the shittiest night!"

So many things filled her head, so many terrible things that she wanted to yell at him how it wasn't her fault that he made immature and irresponsible decisions, how she thought his love for a dumb car was idiotic, how she used to have real "shitty" nights where she didn't know where her next meal was coming from, or if rent was going to come through in her pay check. She doubted he even knew what the real definition of "shitty" was and now he wanted to have sex so that he could feel better and go to sleep. A thought came to her mind, a very unhappy, painful, dreadful thought as she remembered old pictures of his playboy days on a Facebook that had long since been deleted.

"Raoul you weren't… There weren't any other girls- er women with you were there?"

"Dammit, Christine! You really think I'm that low of a guy?"

She gulped, "No…it's that well, it's not like we're really official. There's nothing technically holding you back."

"Christine, babe, you gotta know I love you, right?"

She looked back at the man she had known so long. Red surrounded his eyes, his hair was tasseled from his hands having moved through them during the stress. He looked somewhat desperate and for once, Christine felt like she had a small sample of control. All the same, his confession took her off guard, "No I… I didn't know that."

"Well, I do. I do, Christine. I love you."

He was looking up at her with those tired red-lined eyes. What was love, anyway? Was she supposed to say a word like that back when she hardly even know what it was anymore?

"You're honestly one of the best things to have every happened to me, both professionally and privately," He continued, "And if I didn't need you to fix up my dumb office, I would lay you off with a great recommendation and date you publicly. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She didn't know what she wanted to hear from him, really. If time could be turned backwards, she would have rather heard that he was going to stay in and watch a baseball game, drink beer, and eat meat-loaded pizza instead of having gone out that night. Love was one thing, but in reality, she wanted action. However, she couldn't find the words to say just what she wanted and instead settled on being polite.

"Thank you," She decided to say, "Thank you for letting me know."

"You're…welcome?"

She wondered if he was expecting her to say it back, but how could he expect anything more of her? This was soon followed by the unrepeated question to stay the night was still in the air. Raoul lifted his hand and stroked the back of Christine's hand slowly before lacing their fingers. The gesture which had once caused warm chills to run up her arm, left her empty that night. Christine continued before he asked her to stay again. "I'll stay over another night. It just wouldn't make sense for me to stay over now. I'd have to leave in a few hours."

Raoul grinned, "That's still time for something."

Christine sighed, "I'm tired Raoul, and so are you. I need to get back."

Nothing else of great interest was said before she followed through with her word. The worst part was that the sun began to show its beams from behind the elaborate town houses. Even if she wasn't going to get any sleep before having to let Cloe out, at least it was more likely that a cab would be available on M Street in Georgetown. She figured she would just keep walking towards Adams Morgan until one passed by. Or maybe even a bus if she could manage it. Too much to think about already.

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