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The Real Thing

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Utopia Limited Chapter 1/? [Feb. 17th, 2008|07:35 pm]
The Real Thing


TITLE: Utopia Limited
RATING: Sam/Josh, Primarily PG-13, with a few independent NC-17 chapters.
WARNINGS: Slash, sex, violence, language
SUMMARY: The beginning and first ending of Sam and Josh, back when Sam was a Congressional Intern, Josh was a minor political player on leg. staff, and sodomy laws were still on the books in the District. Ah, the good old days.

June, 1988
It was hot and sticky in Washington in June. For some reason Sam hadn't been expecting that. He knew that Washington was considerably cooler than Los Angeles and was similar in temperature to New Jersey, but for some reason there was a factor he'd missed.

Probably the fact that he was wearing his brand new wool suit and walking places. That could account for the heat.

The walk from Union Station, where the Metro was, to the Russell Senate Office Building was only two blocks but it was still enough to leave him sweating. He passed through minimal security – a metal detector and an x-ray for his briefcase – and walked straight ahead to the elevators. Everything beyond that would be guess work.

The building was a hollow quadrilateral. Kind of like the Pentagon would be if they took out everything but the A ring. Well, that and if they took away a side. Sam was surprised to find that the second floor broke the ring, ended the hallway so that he had to walk all the way around the rest of the building to get to the office. As it turned out later, he could have just gone up a flight of stairs, over about ten feet, and back down, but the map didn't indicate that clearly.

He stumbled into the intern orientation meeting ten minutes late – literally. The toe of his new wingtip caught on the doorframe and sent him sprawling. His new boss caught him by the arm so he didn't do a complete faceplant, made a smartass comment, and quirked an eyebrow.

Sam liked him immediately.


“Who left *me* as the person in charge of the interns?” Josh asked when he got to his staff meeting midday.

“Cal was in charge of them, you took Cal's job,” Emily replied sensibly.

“Yeah, but entrusting me with kids is kind of...”

“They're not kids. They're worse – they're college students,” Billy snorted.

“So I have to pretend I care what they do all day?”

“No, give them the stuff you don't want to do. That and they give tours, but someone else teaches them how to do that.”

“Tours of...what?”

“That big building with the round dome thing on top?” Emily suggested, trying not to laugh.

“Ah-kay,” Josh replied.

“Josh, you've been in this office for three years, how do you have no idea what the interns do?”

“I dunno, I usually just kinda...trip over them,” Josh shrugged. He turned and jumped with a startled noise as an intern was standing behind him. “Could you not do that?”

“Do what, sir?”


“I wasn't hovering, you said to come see you when we were done,” the intern replied, blinking.

“Yeah, that was like...fifteen minutes ago.”


“I asked you to draft a letter.”

“Yes, sir. I typed it on plain paper so you could check it over before I wasted a sheet of letterhead.” The blue-eyed intern held it out and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Josh regarded him carefully and took the letter. He was suspicious and figured the intern had done a crap rush-job to try to get it done and move on to bigger or better assignments. He skimmed the letter...and found it decent. He read it more closely and found it good. “Where'd you find this?”


“Yeah, is there some kind of binder where interns keep old letters?”

“Not that I've seen, sir. I just...you told me to write it, so I wrote it. If it's not what you want I can-”

“No. No no. This is...this is great, thank you.” The intern absolutely beamed, revealing a perfect row of white teeth. “What's your name?”

“Um. Sam? Sam Seaborn.”

“Nice job, Sam.” Josh kept the letter and walked away.

“I-...Mr. Lyman?”


“Do you have another assignment for me?”

Josh raised his eyebrows. This could be fun.


For the first week, Josh pelted Sam with assignments to see what he could handle. Letters, position memos, briefings to summarize hearings Josh didn't feel like going to. Sam was more than competent – he was actually good. He needed an occasional polish, and he was certainly naïve and idealistic, but that would change with time. He had a writing style more sophisticated than any of the other interns, and a passable eye for policy.

So he became Josh's “guy.” His go-to.

The other interns were none too fond of it, but that was just because they weren't exceptionally good at anything Josh needed.

After a particularly well-put-together position paper, Josh walked over to lean against the intern cubicle. “Sam?”

Sam immediately looked up from his next assignment. “Yes?”

“This is good.”

Sam smiled. “Thank you.”

“How'd you get so good at this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your writing, it's better than mine.”


“Well not better, but it's close,” Josh amended.

In truth, Sam's writing was better than Josh's, but he wasn't about to give a kid in his early 20s that kind of ego boost.

“I-...you know...practice,” Sam offered, blushing just a little. “Write position papers, speeches...debate in high school and college...”

The other interns snickered and Josh turned to them. “Laugh if you want, but he's gonna get the good assignments and you'll be stuck doing tours all summer. And sorting mail. Enjoy the papercuts.”

Sam fell just a little bit in love right then.