A perfect 10

[lolitics_meme]

We might have travelled in time and are back to post number 2 or this is going to be the most porny post yet. No one knows. Or no one knew. Anyway:

Here are your guidelines, as usual.

1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt

Comments

Fill: Third Wheel 7/?

[anonymous]

It was almost a normal day.

David had already gone by the time James woke the next morning, his overnight bag left at the foot of the bed, yesterday’s clothes spilling untidily from it. The rest of the house was no more messy than James usually left it, even if it felt far more empty than it usually did, and once he got to work he was caught in the normal Friday rush to ensure no loose ends could come up to bug him over the weekend. But always behind it all was that nameless trepidation, the unspoken knowledge that things were about to change.

So that was it, he supposed, in the brief moment when he did come up for air. Presumably Nick’s friend from the Daily Telegraph had done his work and at some point later today the shouting would start. David would be pilloried as an expenses cheat, and Nick would stand by as David Cameron casts him loose with crocodile tears of regret while remaining pure as the driven snow. In the meantime, James thought, mind still mostly on his fifty unread emails, all there was left was to wait for the appropriate shoes to drop.

David rang just after four.

"I've just had the fax through from the Telegraph," he said.

There was an awkward pause. "Ah," James said. "So--"

David sounded utterly in control now. "So it might be an idea for you to ring your nearest and dearest and introduce them to your double life before the UK media does it for you."

It wasn't that James had been avoiding contemplating that side of things, but--well, he had been avoiding contemplating it, justifying it by the vague notion that it would look more authentic that way. “How long do we have?” he asked.

“An hour. Maybe two. I don’t know.“

“Oh. Shit.”

David laughed down the phone, a cracked, fractured sound that made something deep inside James ache in sympathy. "Precisely," he said.

"Okay. Yeah." James rubbed at his temples, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "I'd probably better start with my boss."

"Damn," David said, sounding more shaken that James had heard him before. "This is going to have implications for your job. I--never considered that."

"I can handle that," James said, with more confidence than he felt. "Roger will be pissed off I had an advantage I haven't used, but he'll get over it. The rest--fuck'em!"

"Right," David said in a clipped voice. "Yes. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," James said, but David had already ended the call.