Title: Press
Author: Perpetual Motion
Webpage: www.geocities.com/iwannabedonna
Category: Slash, Angst
Rating: CHILD
Pairing: Josh/Sam
Series: No
Spoilers: Little ones for WKODHIB and No'e'l.
Warnings: Not betaed.
Summary: What kind of press would Josh get?
Archive Instructions: Sure. It would make my day.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I only wish and make them do naughty things on paper.
Author's Notes: This little ficlet is in no way meant to disrespect Dale Earnhart or his memory, but when I saw the reactions to his death it made me wonder.

Press by Perpetual Motion

Josh let himself into Sam's office; he was so engrossed in his file he didn’t notice the blinds were closed completely. "Hey, Sam I got-" Josh cut himself off when he got a good look at Sam.

Sam was at his desk, shoulders hunched and his hands covering his face. He breathed in a very shaky breath and hiccuped quietly.

~He's crying.~ "Sam, what's wrong?" Josh closed and locked the door. He tossed the file onto the couch and crouched by Sam's desk chair. "Sam, look at me, please. What's wrong?"

"Dale Earnhart died."

"You're crying because a racecar driver died?"

"No, I'm crying because I wonder if you'd have gotten the same press." Sam finally looked at Josh, his eyes were half-dead and haunted. "If you had died at the Newseum would your press had been so big?"

Josh wasn't sure what to say. He had no reaction, minus the throbbing of his scars that he knew couldn’t be real. They never hurt. "Sam, it's been months."

"And you were shot, and then you put your hand through a window. What if you had jumped through the window? Would the press have splattered your face all over the papers and television with your years of birth and death stamped below your chin? Would they have pictures of your grieving mother? I *know* they wouldn’t have pictures of me, at least not as a grieving lover, because as liberal as the press may be, they wouldn't dare print 'Sam Seaborn, long-time lover of Joshua Lyman, mourns his soulmate's death.' They wouldn't because they don't know."

Sam suddenly fell out of his chair and wrapped his arms around Josh. "You can't die. You can't ever die. If you die, I'll find out how much press you'd get, and I don't want to know. I never want to know."

Josh slipped his arms around Sam and kissed Sam's temple. "I'll have to die sometime, Sam."

"Just pretend you're immortal right now."

"Okay."

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