A shorty, but heeeey. . . how about a cliffhanger? :D

Thank you guys for the reviews :))) Don't worry, I received e-mail notifications for them, but seems to be lagging behind a bit.

Chapter 19

Malcolm needed a moment to realize what was happening when he woke up. Clara was shaking him furiously, a look of worry on her face while she waved the newspaper in front of his face. Something was wrong, but his mind was still too clouded with sleep to realize what it was.

"Malcolm, wake up," she urged him, "We're in trouble. Big trouble."

"What?" he groaned, only slowly opening his eyes as he sat up in bed. Why was she so fucking agitated so early in the morning?

"We're in the newspaper, Malcolm. They know."

"What?!"

He tore the newspaper out of her hand and held it at arm's length to read what she was talking about when he saw the headline.

"That knobheaded cunt!" Malcolm cursed instantly as he skimmed through the article. That fucking arsehole Ollie Reeder had sold him to the press, there was no doubt about that because Malcolm couldn't think of any sane reason why the press would know what exactly had been going on between media adviser Malcolm Tucker and his young intern in that cupboard last night. It had to be Ollie's fault.

"What do we do, Malcolm?" Clara asked with panic in her voice, looking at him with her insanely large eyes, "What do we do now?"

Slowly he rose from his bed and looked around the room, not finding any answers there. What would they do? That was one really good question. He didn't know. He just didn't know. All Malcolm knew was that Ollie Reeder was a fucking dead man. He would pay for that.

"Are you sure it was Ollie? Why would he do such a thing? He knows how badly that could hurt him as well," she argued.

Another good question. "Because he's a prick. Pricks don't need a sane reason to fuck shit up. Look at Nicola. She's been doing that professionally for a long time," Malcolm took a deep breath. He needed a plan and he needed it now because once he stepped outside that door he was running the risk of bumping into a journalist and they would definitely have questions for him. He needed to know what to do.

"So?" Clara asked, her voice only a whisper, "What now?"

Malcolm turned around to look at her. Clara, beautiful, smart Clara. She had no idea either.

"I will handle this," he replied, the determination back in his voice, "You will stay here today and I will handle this. I will find a solution."

"I could help," she suggested hopefully but unfortunately this time she really couldn't. Oh, he wished she could.

"No," he replied calmly, "You'll only end up with blood on your skirt when I dismember Ollie Fucking Reeder."

Malcolm stormed through the DoSAC office and he was well aware that everyone had read the article about him and Clara. He could hear them whisper and talk behind his back and some men even whistled after him, but he decided not to care as he made his way towards Ollie. As soon as he had spotted Malcolm he scrambled out of his chair.

"It wasn't me," he said hurriedly, but Malcolm had already reached for his tie and was dragging him into the nearest empty office.

"Malcolm," Ollie tried to reason with him as Malcolm shoved him against the table.

"How dare you?!" he barked at him, "How fucking dare you?! You knew this could damage the party-"

"Malcolm-"

"You knew this isn't just about me or Clara, this is about you as well! It can end up costing your fucking job as well as mine!"

"It wasn't me!"

"You were the only who knew! Who else could have told the press? Father Christmas? The Easter Bunny? No," Malcolm was still shouting and only now did he see that several DoSAC employees were gathering around the glass windows. They all knew now. It didn't matter what they overheard. "It was you!"

Malcolm stepped forward and when he looked into Ollie's face he was ready to punch him. A few more seconds and he would have done it but suddenly Ollie reached behind himself and pulled out another newspaper. Malcolm didn't even want to look at it, but the picture caught his attention for just a moment.

"They caught you on tape," Ollie said vehemently, "It wasn't me."

Malcolm took the Daily Mirror from him and started to read. Of course it was the fucking Mirror. What other newspaper would print a photo of him and Clara being more than just a little friendly with each other in the privacy of a cupboard. Right now he was even thankful that they were only kissing in the picture, although the article made it more than clear that they had seen the rest of the tape as well. And of course his threats towards Ollie.

"See?" Ollie asked him after a moment, "I never said a word. They must have a security camera in there for whatever reason."

Suddenly a knock on the door tore Malcolm from his thoughts and he looked up to see Terri standing in the door frame, holding a phone.

"It's the Mirror, asking for you," she said.

Malcolm let out a long and heavy sigh. He had to think of something. And he had to think of it now.