TITLE: The Pact – The Next Generation AUTHOR: Kasey RATING: PG, Post-WH SUMMARY: “So if I play Alexander Hamilton and die in a duel, my kids go to who?” DISCLAIMERS: I own not them, I own them not. It was a steamy day in August – the eighth or so – when we did it, and the muggy air was heavy around us, even two miles out in the Pacific Ocean.  We were all together – a rare occurrence – and everyone was staying at my lace for the day.  Josh, CJ, Toby, Danny, and Charlie were all out in California on campaign business – Josh and Danny for the convention, CJ on a state-wide shot, Toby because Andi was going to the convention, and Charlie because a friend of his wanted him to run in the 27th House seat in 2 years.  And everyone had realized everyone else would be on the Pacific Coast at the same time, so we decided on a meeting place – my home – and…from there, it’s easy to guess. All of the “significant others” and kids were back at the house with Mal and our two daughters, Sarah and Emily, ages 10 and 7.  Zoey and “The brood” (four children, raging in age from 2 to 12) were probably in the pool, which CJ had maybe fallen into.  Mal and Andi were probably talking in the air-condition kitchen that overlooked the beach, Cokes in hand. As for us…Josh was trying to figure out a way to go water-skiing behind my SAILboat while Toby rolled his eyes and threw back a beer.  Charlie and Danny sat against one railing, cold drinks in hand, discussing who-knows-what.  It had taken four years for CJ to finally accept Danny’s advances and a small fraction of that to realize she really did love him.  Toby and Andi still weren’t truly back together but weren’t really divorced (at least, not in the usual sense). “Sam, you realize you’ve used up almost all your bread?” Toby asked disdainfully as I fed seagulls off the back of the boat. “It’s stale anyway,” I said, shrugging.  “There’s sandwiches over there in the red cooler if you’re hungry.” Charlie looked thoughtful.  “Hey, Sam, after dinner, you think we could come back out and bring the kids, at least the older ones? Wives, too, if they want…?” “CJ’d fall off,” Toby and Danny said at the same time. “Yeah, fine with me – I dunno when you guys have to be various places, but I’m all for it…’course, Mal gets worried when I go boating because she thinks I’m gonna fall overboard.” “Well, yeah, ‘cause then who’d be Mr. Family Man?” Josh – still single – joked. “You.” “What?” “I’m delegating.  If something happens to me, Josh is in charge of making sure Mal and Sarah and Emily are okay.  Everyone’s now a witness.” “Look out, family,” Toby muttered. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Charlie piped up.  “A little morbid, but not a bad idea.” “Yeah, the only problem is, what if something happens to Josh first?” Danny pointed out.  “Unless…” “Unless what?” “Well…in duels, there’s the guy fighting and there’s a second, and if stakes are REALLY high, a guy might try and have a third…” “So if I play Alexander Hamilton and die in a duel, my kids go to who?” Charlie asked. “Like…more than one person?  So like, if something happens to me, any one of you could check in on Mal and the kids from time to time?” “Exactly.  And if something happened to me, you guys’d look after CJ.” “I like it.  Count me in,” I said. “Ditto,” Charlie said immediately, the other family man among us. Josh shrugged. “I don’t have anyone who would need looking-out-for, but I’ll be a second.” “Solong as you guys look out for CJ, all’s fine with me,” Danny added. Toby shrugged, which from him is like Josh jumping through the halls. “It’s settled, then,” I said with a smile.  “C’mon, let’s eat.” Then we talked of simpler times, for the past always seems simpler than the present.  Of late-night talks and call girls, meetings and poker games.  Of campaigns and diseases and speeches, people we'’ almost forgotten and people no one could ever forget, of funerals and births and Christmases and weddings, of secret plans to fight inflation (yes, there was more than one!) and headcases and all sorts of things.  And later that night, Zoey and Mallory and CJ and Andi and Sarah and Emily and “Little Jed”  and Charlie Jr. and Sally and Gail (short for Abigail, and the youngest of the Youngs, not the fish, may she RIP) and Toby and Danny and Charlie and Josh and I all piled on the boat and went for a ride.  People tried to sing “Moonlight Bay” until other people (namely: Toby) threatened to throw all of them overboard.  And all but Jed. Jr. and Sarah fell asleep, so we carried them off the boat and back into the house when we returned to shore. Looking back, THOSE seem like the simple times.