FIC - Execution Day (24, Evelyn Martin & Charles Logan)
Title: Execution Day
Fandom: 24
Characters: Evelyn Martin, Charles Logan
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~970
Spoilers: Through the end of Day Five.
Summary: Evelyn doesn’t think she will get away with this.
A/N: Written for 24_ficathon.
Evelyn breathes in slowly, and she breathes out slowly. She tries every trick she’s ever heard of for staying calm, but the fact is that she never wanted to be a spy and now that she’s been forced into she is only a step away from a panic attack.
Every single time a Secret Service Agent passes her in the hall, she’s afraid that he is going to ask her to follow him and then she will never be heard from again. They only smile and say hello, though, and she makes it to the President’s office without being stopped once. It’s a consolation, but only a small one.
All she has to do is get the recording, give it to Palmer, and then she can be done with it. She won't have to spy on anyone ever again. But first she has to actually get her hands on the damn recording device, and it’s right under the President’s nose.
She knocks on the door and says, "I'd like to speak with the President," as calmly as she can when an agent answers it.
"He's busy preparing for the summit," says the agent.
"I know," she replies. "Tell him it's about his wife. And that it’s important."
The agent nods and complies, because everybody knows about the First Lady at this point, even though they all politely pretend not to. He leaves her standing by herself at the door, and she wonders what she's going to do if the president decides he's too busy to talk with her now. He returns fairly quickly, though, and ushers her inside.
"Yes, Evelyn?" says President Logan after she walks into the room. He’s alone, like she suspected he would be for a discussion about his wife. She can see the phone sitting on his desk, and she tries not to focus her gaze on it.
“I wanted to talk to you about Mrs. Logan, sir,” she says.
"What's wrong with her now?" he says, sounding resigned.
Usually, when she speaks to the President, she keeps a respectful distance, hands clasped behind her and her back straight. But today, she’s got to get at his phone, and so she leans onto the corner of the desk and hopes that he will attribute the undue intimacy to the sensitive topic of their conversation.
"She's a wreck. And, sir... she's been drinking an awful lot recently," she says, and although she hates to use Mrs. Logan like this, it’s not a lie.
“That isn’t really news,” he says. Her hand is right next to the phone, and she’s been told the recording device is attached right to the bottom (God only know how Palmer got it there in the first place), but she can’t grab it while he’s looking straight at her.
“I know, I know, but it’s just been so much worse recently. I’m starting to get worried that she’ll do something to hurt herself,” she says.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he startles her by getting out of his chair and walking to the other side of the room. He opens the liquor cabinet, and Evelyn can’t quite believe her luck, because his back is to her now. She lifts the phone up as quietly as possibly while he pours himself a drink, and by the time he has turned around to face her the device is safely in her pocket.
He takes a drink before he says, “As soon as the summit is over, we’ll have to do something about it. I’ve been putting off dealing with her problems, to be honest, but it’s clear that she needs more help than we can give her.”
Evelyn nods in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. Now that she has what she came for, she wants nothing more than to be as far from the president as possible.
"Are you okay, Evelyn? You don't look so good yourself," he says, and she has to quell the rising panic before she can answer him.
"I'm fine," she says, "It's just - it's so hard, seeing the First Lady like this."
"Yes,” he says, "I know." He looks so sad when he says it that Evelyn almost feels sorry for him. That is, until she remembers why she is here, in his office, stealing from him. It is difficult to feel sympathy for a man willing to sacrifice his own people.
“Would you like a drink?” He asks, and she has to stop herself from reminding him that it’s only six in the morning. Over the years, she’s come to realize that the President drinks almost as much as his wife, which would be bad enough even if he weren’t the leader of the free world.
But she’s got the recording, now, and he won’t be President for very much longer.
“No, thank you,” she says. “I know you’re busy. I just wanted to talk to you about Mrs. Logan. I should be getting back to her, actually, since I need to get her ready for the summit,” she says, as she edges closer to the door.
The President nods, and she leaves the room and makes her way back to the First Lady’s suite.
“Good morning, Ma’am,” she says, when she enters and sees that the First Lady is already awake.
“Good morning, Evelyn,” she replies. “You seem happy today.”
She says it as if Evelyn’s cheerfulness is an affront to her own sour mood, but Evelyn can’t quite help but be pleased with herself. She’s done the hard part, and all that’s left is to get the recording to David Palmer. She’s sure she can manage that.
Fandom: 24
Characters: Evelyn Martin, Charles Logan
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~970
Spoilers: Through the end of Day Five.
Summary: Evelyn doesn’t think she will get away with this.
A/N: Written for 24_ficathon.
Evelyn breathes in slowly, and she breathes out slowly. She tries every trick she’s ever heard of for staying calm, but the fact is that she never wanted to be a spy and now that she’s been forced into she is only a step away from a panic attack.
Every single time a Secret Service Agent passes her in the hall, she’s afraid that he is going to ask her to follow him and then she will never be heard from again. They only smile and say hello, though, and she makes it to the President’s office without being stopped once. It’s a consolation, but only a small one.
All she has to do is get the recording, give it to Palmer, and then she can be done with it. She won't have to spy on anyone ever again. But first she has to actually get her hands on the damn recording device, and it’s right under the President’s nose.
She knocks on the door and says, "I'd like to speak with the President," as calmly as she can when an agent answers it.
"He's busy preparing for the summit," says the agent.
"I know," she replies. "Tell him it's about his wife. And that it’s important."
The agent nods and complies, because everybody knows about the First Lady at this point, even though they all politely pretend not to. He leaves her standing by herself at the door, and she wonders what she's going to do if the president decides he's too busy to talk with her now. He returns fairly quickly, though, and ushers her inside.
"Yes, Evelyn?" says President Logan after she walks into the room. He’s alone, like she suspected he would be for a discussion about his wife. She can see the phone sitting on his desk, and she tries not to focus her gaze on it.
“I wanted to talk to you about Mrs. Logan, sir,” she says.
"What's wrong with her now?" he says, sounding resigned.
Usually, when she speaks to the President, she keeps a respectful distance, hands clasped behind her and her back straight. But today, she’s got to get at his phone, and so she leans onto the corner of the desk and hopes that he will attribute the undue intimacy to the sensitive topic of their conversation.
"She's a wreck. And, sir... she's been drinking an awful lot recently," she says, and although she hates to use Mrs. Logan like this, it’s not a lie.
“That isn’t really news,” he says. Her hand is right next to the phone, and she’s been told the recording device is attached right to the bottom (God only know how Palmer got it there in the first place), but she can’t grab it while he’s looking straight at her.
“I know, I know, but it’s just been so much worse recently. I’m starting to get worried that she’ll do something to hurt herself,” she says.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he startles her by getting out of his chair and walking to the other side of the room. He opens the liquor cabinet, and Evelyn can’t quite believe her luck, because his back is to her now. She lifts the phone up as quietly as possibly while he pours himself a drink, and by the time he has turned around to face her the device is safely in her pocket.
He takes a drink before he says, “As soon as the summit is over, we’ll have to do something about it. I’ve been putting off dealing with her problems, to be honest, but it’s clear that she needs more help than we can give her.”
Evelyn nods in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. Now that she has what she came for, she wants nothing more than to be as far from the president as possible.
"Are you okay, Evelyn? You don't look so good yourself," he says, and she has to quell the rising panic before she can answer him.
"I'm fine," she says, "It's just - it's so hard, seeing the First Lady like this."
"Yes,” he says, "I know." He looks so sad when he says it that Evelyn almost feels sorry for him. That is, until she remembers why she is here, in his office, stealing from him. It is difficult to feel sympathy for a man willing to sacrifice his own people.
“Would you like a drink?” He asks, and she has to stop herself from reminding him that it’s only six in the morning. Over the years, she’s come to realize that the President drinks almost as much as his wife, which would be bad enough even if he weren’t the leader of the free world.
But she’s got the recording, now, and he won’t be President for very much longer.
“No, thank you,” she says. “I know you’re busy. I just wanted to talk to you about Mrs. Logan. I should be getting back to her, actually, since I need to get her ready for the summit,” she says, as she edges closer to the door.
The President nods, and she leaves the room and makes her way back to the First Lady’s suite.
“Good morning, Ma’am,” she says, when she enters and sees that the First Lady is already awake.
“Good morning, Evelyn,” she replies. “You seem happy today.”
She says it as if Evelyn’s cheerfulness is an affront to her own sour mood, but Evelyn can’t quite help but be pleased with herself. She’s done the hard part, and all that’s left is to get the recording to David Palmer. She’s sure she can manage that.