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TITLE: "The Flood" (1/8) AUTHORS: Luna (lunavudu@aol.com) and Jessica (bolander3@aol.com) CATEGORY: General (but with adult themes). Crossover. Maybe AU. ARCHIVE: Yes, but please tell us. Sorry to those who get this twice. SUMMARY: The Bartlet administration gets its very own sex scandal. Crossover with "Homicide: Life on the Street." NOTES: Bayliss, Meldrick, and Giardello belong to Tom Fontana and Baltimore Productions. Ruth Hoynes is ours. Everyone else is property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and NBC. No one's making any money. This story contains no sex, but has references to a slash pairing and some adult language. You can't say we didn't warn you. * * * THE FLOOD (Part One) "The world is getting flatter, and the sky is falling all around - Oh, but nothing is the matter, for I never cry in town - And a love like ours, my dear, is best measured when it's down." - Tom Waits * * * The rain came up as a slow drizzle Saturday evening; by two in the morning it was a full-fledged downpour. The two men stumbling out of the hotel lobby didn't have raincoats, and didn't care. An hour before, they'd each wanted a drink -- just a shot of whiskey, to guard against the cold. One shot turned into many more, and before long they were laughing at each other's intoxication as they stepped out into the rain. "I can't get over what you said about the Washington Monument," the taller man said. "Father of our country," his companion slurred. They giggled drunkenly until they'd forgotten why they were laughing. The shorter man reached out and tugged up the other man's collar. "You're getting soaked." "Kiss me goodnight," the tall man said. He chuckled again. "What?" "Kiss me goodnight." The shorter man looked like he was going to refuse, until their eyes locked through the mist. He said nothing, only took a step forward. They leaned toward each other, and their hands met at the same time as their lips brushed gently. There was a soft, small sound: a camera shutter clicking. The shorter man stepped back. "Did you hear something?" He shook his head. "No, John--" Across the street, a light suddenly went out in a window. An instant later, a car screeched around the corner. "I heard that," the tall man admitted. "Shit," John said, anger and panic creeping into his voice. He looked at the other man and hissed, "Go inside, Tim. Go back inside." "What...?" "Just go!" The tall man retreated into the lobby. John cursed again, no longer feeling drunk. He was starting to shiver, and not because of the pouring rain. He yanked a cellular phone out of his pocket and hit a number on his speed dial. Someone picked up. "Hoynes," he said into the phone. There must have been static. "Hoynes, damn it!" he repeated. "We have -- oh, God. We have a problem." * * * Josh had fallen asleep on the couch, watching reruns of "The Brady Bunch." He surfaced slowly from a dream about Jan Brady, and stared in confusion at the television until he realized the beeping noise wasn't coming from the screen. Drowsily, he picked up his pager and got to his feet. He read the message as he trudged into his bedroom to get dressed, then stopped in his tracks as it hit him. He yawned, distractedly grabbed some clothes from the closet, and started to struggle into them, wishing the Brady theme song wasn't stuck in his head. * * * The sound awoke C.J. automatically, and she rolled over reflexively to stop it, promptly going over the edge of the bed and taking most of the sheets with her. "...The hell?" a muffled voice commented. "I'm beeping," she said, extricating herself from the tangled blankets. "Funny; I was sleeping too, until--" "I'm *beeping*," C.J. repeated, and felt her way through the darkness to the dresser. "You really ought to get a night-stand." Toby lifted his face out of the pillow. "To break your fall?" "I wouldn't have...." She trailed off as the insistent noise doubled. "You're beeping too." C.J. found her pager and tossed his onto the foot of the bed, then fumbled for the light switch. "This can't be good," Toby groaned, shielding his eyes against the brightness. C.J. was already moving ahead, gathering items of clothing up off the floor, as he read the message. "God. Does this say what I think it says?" "Unless we're both going crazy," she called over her shoulder. He stood up, squinting at the nylon stockings hanging from the doorknob. "That's entirely possible," he muttered, and followed her out of the bedroom. * * * *My apartment is on fire,* Sam thought. *This is bad.* Before he got out of bed or even opened his eyes, Sam mentally ran through his escape route. *I can't believe my apartment is on fire. Open the window, climb down the tree, go across the street, call 911. I really need to come up with a better escape plan.* Thunder rumbled loudly as Sam jumped from the bed, turned on the bedroom light, and realized that the shrill noise he heard wasn't his smoke alarm at all. He reached for his beeper and sat down on the bed. Sam read the message twice, rubbed his eyes and read it again. *I think I liked it better when my apartment was on fire.* * * * Leo looked at the clock. 3:07 am. How in the hell did it get so late? He stared at the wall for a full minute before he forced himself to stand. Leo grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, and didn't realize how tired he was until he put it on. With a heavy sigh, he placed three files under his arm and walked to the door. Leo turned off the lights in his office and barely made it out the door before his beeper began to vibrate. He read the message, cursed, and turned the lights back on. Twenty minutes later, Josh staggered in, rain dripping from his tangled hair. "Hey, Leo. Can you believe I got this wet just coming from the car?" He rubbed his eyes and sank into a chair. "How'd you get here so fast?" "I never went home." "So is this for real?" Leo shot him an odd look. "Yeah, Josh; you know, I thought it would be really funny to prank-call the senior staff in the middle of the night and say the Vice President-- " "Okay. Sorry." Josh yawned loudly. "You have to admit it's pretty surreal." "It's unquestionably surreal, but it's real." "He actually kissed this guy?" Sam asked as he entered, leaving his umbrella by the door. "Yes," Leo assured him. "Where?" "I'm under the impression that it was on the lips, but who cares, Sam?" "No, I meant, where did it happen?" "Outside the Madison. On the street." "In an entirely public place," Josh contributed. "Yeah." Sam shook his head in disbelief and slumped on the couch. Toby stalked in. "I'm going to kill him," he announced grimly. "I mean it. I'm literally going to kill him myself." "Please don't let the Secret Service hear you say that," Leo answered wryly. Toby glowered at nothing in particular. "Speaking of which," Josh interrupted, "how is it that Hoynes managed to lose his protection detail but he couldn't shake off... whoever took this picture?" Leo frowned. "I don't know, Josh, but rest assured I'm going to have a long talk with him and I'm going to find that out; that, among many, many other things." C.J. came in behind Toby, as Josh groaned miserably and tilted his head back against his chair. She glanced at him. "Get dressed in the dark there, Joshua?" He looked down at himself for the first time, and realized his shirt was a shade of orange that could only be described as virulent. "I didn't know I still had this." "People," Leo said in a warning tone. They looked up. "I don't need to tell you we have a crisis on our hands. Josh, I want you to come with me. We need to get the full story from Hoynes, and we need it fast. Toby, C.J., start making phone calls. I'd like to find out who's behind this before the rest of the English-speaking world does. C.J., you're going to be doing a lot of talking about this at the early briefing--" "You think?" C.J. broke in, rubbing at her exhausted shoulders. Leo ignored this. "I'd feel more comfortable if we had a formal statement ready. Sam, put something together. Right now, our position is we don't know anything." "Why?" Sam asked. "How about because we honestly don't know anything?" "It's none of our business in the first place," Sam said quickly. "I mean, I understand it looks bad, but it's his life, right?" Everyone in the room stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. "Sam," C.J. finally said, "You of all people should know...." "I'm just saying this kind of makes my being friends with a call girl look like a pretty minor--" "Sam!" Leo was exasperated. "Look, I know it's late. I know you're all tired. I think you all realize how incredibly bad this could, and probably will, get. It's time to get into your fighting stances, guys. Go to work." They started to file out. "Oh, and Josh?" He stopped, and Leo looked him over. "At least try and get that thing buttoned straight, okay?" Josh blinked at him and walked out. Leo sat back down at his desk, resting his face in his hands for a few seconds. As rare as they were, there were still times when he wished he was doing just about any other job. But they never lasted. He shrugged it off, and reached for the telephone. * * * TO BE CONTINUED
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