Title: Strangers in the night – Part one: The beginning Sam bent down to pick up the post from the mat as he left the house. Josh had already gone, and he flicked quickly through the pile of envelopes. One was addressed to him, hand-written, the stationery heavy and expensive. Hoping it wasn't going to turn out to be junk mail he pulled the envelope open. The black-and-white photograph of him coming out of the supermarket, arms full of brown bags, was unsettling enough. But, turning the picture over, the wording, written in red ink, made him shiver. I'm watching you. Sam looked carefully for something that would identify when the picture was taken. Then he worked it out. Poking out of one of the bags was a long stick. He had bought it for Lexi. Stopping her scratching the furniture was his main goal of late. And he had bought the toy – a bunch of feathers on a long cord attached to a green plastic stick – a week earlier. He laid the remainder of the mail on the table and, stuffing the picture into his briefcase, walked slowly from the house, looking around him uneasily until he was safely inside the West Wing. **************** `Josh, I need to talk to you.' Josh looked up from the mound of paperwork which had covered his desk overnight. Well, not covered it. Not overnight, anyway. Just added to its now-dangerous height. Sam's pale face and uneasy expression made him frown. `Sam?' Their relationship was now well-known among the staff. They had agreed, therefore, that it was okay for Josh to call Sam by the pet name they used when they were alone. They had also decided that Sam' s pet name for Josh was likely to cause as little trouble. But this was different. Sam handed Josh the picture. Josh's frown deepened as he read the words on the reverse of the picture. `When did you get this?' `In the mail this morning.' `Okay. Stay here.' `Where are you going?' `I'm gonna show this to Ron.' Ron Butterfield was standing a few feet away, occasionally contributing to the discussion the President and Leo were having with Mrs Landingham about the President's forthcoming visit to a school. Sam said tiredly: `Josh, don't.' Josh got up. `Lit, someone is watching us. We don't know what they'll do next.' Sam trailed after Josh, quickly realising that he was wasting his time trying to talk Josh out of his course of action. ***************** Bartlet looked up as his door opened. `Leo?' `Sir, I need a minute.' Bartlet looked at his watch. `You can have three, Leo. I'm not due to leave until four.' Leo handed Bartlet the photograph. `Sam got it this morning.' `Does Ron know?' `Yeah. I just talked to him.' As he spoke, Leo watched Bartlet's reaction as he turned the photograph over and read the back. `Sam lives with Josh now, doesn't he?' Bartlet tried not to make the question sound as if he disapproved. Which he did. But they had their own lives. And he understood that. Even if he didn't approve. Which he didn't. `Yeah.' `Ask Ron to organise someone to watch the house. The sooner we catch this person, the better.' `Yes Sir.' Leo walked to the door as Charlie opened it. `Sir?' `I'm coming Charlie. Leo, tell Sam to be careful.' `Yes Sir.' ************** Josh had still been working when Sam left, and he arrived home alone, quickly parking the car and almost running into the house, locking the door behind him. Lexi came out of the sitting room, purring, rubbing against Sam's shaking legs. The telephone ringing made him jump and he waited a few seconds for his heart to stop pounding before picking it up. `Hello?' `You got home okay, love?' Sam relaxed instantly. `Yeah, JL. Just walked in.' `I won't be long, Lit. Give Lexi a stroke for me.' `I will JL. See ya.' Sam smiled at the thought of Josh, surrounded by paperwork, abandoning it all for long enough to calculate exactly how long it would take Sam to drive home, find a parking space and get into the house. When the telephone rang again, he snatched it up. `Hello?' After repeating himself several times, still with no response, Sam hung up the `phone. He was sitting on the sofa, Lexi, his birthday present to Josh, on his lap, a glass of wine in one hand and the remote in the other, when his cell phone rang. Almost dislodging the cat, Sam reached into his jacket and pulled out his `phone. `Sam Seaborn.' Again, after several attempts to get whoever it was on the other end to answer, Sam was forced to disconnect the call. Immediately, he called Josh's cell phone. `Joshua Lyman.' `Hi JL. Did you just try to call me?' `No. Lit, is everything okay?' `Yeah, it was probably a wrong number.' `Someone called your cell?' `Yeah, and the house.' `I'll be home soon. Put the machine on and I'll leave now.' Sam was about to say: `There's no need.' But he was a little unsettled, and he was pleased Josh cared enough to leave work behind for him. `Okay. Thanks.' Sam got up and walked into the hallway, flicking the answering machine on. After a few bleeps and a pause, the light came on. Reassured, Sam walked back into the living room. He was crossing the room when the doorbell rang. As he walked slowly back into the hallway, Sam called out: `Who is it?' `Mr Seaborn, I'm Marc Nicholls. Secret Service. Can I come in for a moment please?' Sam unlocked and opened the door. `Sorry, come in.' The Agent stood in the doorway. `Next time, Mr Seaborn, ask to see some ID before you let a stranger into your house, okay?' Sam sighed. `Sorry, it's been a long day.' `That's what people count on Mr Seaborn. That won't bother checking that they are who they claim to be.' `Please, call me Sam. Would you like a coffee or something?' `Thanks. Black, two sugars please. Mind if I take a look around?' `No, go ahead.' ************** Sam was in the kitchen, stirring the coffees when he heard the key in the lock. Seconds later, Josh's voice carried through the house. `Lit?' `In the kitchen JL. Mr Nicholls is here to check out the house. He's going to be keeping an eye on the place.' Josh came into the kitchen. `Where is he?' `Upstairs.' `Okay.' After a few more minutes, Sam got up from the sofa. He walked up the stairs. `Mr Nicholls? Marc?' Within a couple of minutes, he was in the sitting room, his voice panicky. `JL, he's not here.' Josh got up then. `What?' `I let him in. He went upstairs while I made coffee.' `Did you see his ID?' Sam was on the verge of tears. `He told me off for not asking to see it.' `And then he showed you, right?' Sam shook his head. `No.' Josh walked to where his jacket lay across the armchair and pulled his phone out of his jacket. `I need to speak to Ron Butterfield please. It's Josh Lyman.' ****************** Sam walked in the next morning, and, instead of the expected teasing, Leo called across: `Sam, you got a minute?' Sam crossed towards the Oval Office. Josh continued towards his office, but Leo's voice stopped him. `You too, Josh.' Bartlet's face was serious as he spoke. `Leo told me what happened last night, Sam. I know about the photograph and I understand there were phone calls too. This is getting out of hand. Ron tells me they're working on identifying this man, but apart from your description, they've nothing to go on, so don't hold your breath. Now, you're gonna do two things. One, get used to the idea of having an Agent with you at all times. And two, change your cell phone numbers. Actually, that last part was Ron's suggestion.' Sam and Josh both groaned. Not at the idea of having Secret Service protection. But changing their cell phone numbers would mean telling everyone who had the old number that it had changed. And that was a Hell of a lot of people. `Sir, Sam's the one with the problem. I really don't think…' Bartlet was forced to say: `You're in this together. It may be Sam is the target right now, but we don't know what this person will do in a day or a week. So you'll both be treated in the same way, okay?' Josh understood how awkward this must be for Bartlet. `Sir.' ****************** Sam and Josh began to appreciate how claustrophobic the President must find his own protection team after only a few hours of having a stranger in the house. The agent had already moved his things into their spare room and was checking their door and window locks. There were two more agents outside the front door, sitting in a car across from the house. Over the following days, they had to get used to not being able to pick up the telephone or answering the doorbell without making sure the Agent was nearby. And knowing that their telephone calls were being listened in to was particularly awkward for both of them. They were used to being able to pick up the phone whenever one of them was panicking about something, or thinking about something they needed to bounce of someone else, or just needing a chat, and suddenly, uncomfortable at the idea of someone listening in, those calls stopped. As did anything other than lying next to each other in bed. Feeling to blame, Sam tried to convince Josh that the Agent in the next door bedroom wouldn't care what they did. But Josh did. And, after several times of trying and failing to convince Josh that they shouldn't alter any part of their lives just because someone was trying to frighten them, Josh snapped: `Sam, they're listening in on our calls. Do you not think they might be listening in now?' Sam hadn't imagined they were being bugged. He flew out of bed and stormed into the Agent's bedroom, switching on the light as he flung the door open. `Did you bug the house? Can they hear this?' Gerry Parker sat up in bed, blinking at the brightness of the light above him. `No, Mr Seaborn. But your neighbours can.' Angrily, Sam stomped downstairs and, turning all the lights on, went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk. The voice behind him startled him. `If you don't warm that up, you'll never get to sleep.' Josh reached a small pan off the shelf. He handed it to Sam who poured the carton of milk into the pan. Josh watched him. `You thirsty?' `There are three of us awake now.' Josh took the mug of hot milk upstairs. `Gerry, you still awake?' `Yeah, Mr Lyman.' Josh opened the door. `Here, we made hot milk. And call me Josh.' `Thanks Josh. `Night.' `Night Gerry.' He walked back down the stairs to where Sam sat on the sofa, mug in hand, blowing gently on the steaming liquid. Sam looked up as Josh sat next to him. `I'm sorry.' `This isn't your fault.' `Yeah, it is. If you were with someone else right now…' Josh leaned across. `Then I would be thinking about you.' Sam snuggled into Josh's arms, sipping slowly at the hot milk. `I wonder who it is?' `Who knows? And it's probably better not to think about it. If you wanna sleep at all tonight.' Josh's sensible comment made Sam smile and he moved to lay looking up at Josh. Some of the milk spilled over the lip of his mug, scalding his fingers. `Ow!' Josh took Sam's mug from him. `Careful. You okay?' Sam smiled at Josh's concerned examination of his warm, damp fingers. `Do you think Jerry's asleep yet?' Sharing the same thought, Josh leaned down to kiss Sam gently. `Who cares?' ****************** In the morning when he came downstairs to make himself a coffee, Parker saw two mugs of cold milk sitting side-by-side on the coffee table. 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