Thick of It By Chance

**Fandom** _The Thick of It_  
><strong>Character(s)Pairing(s)** Sam Cassidy, Jamie MacDonald, Malcolm Tucker; no pairings intended, take it as you wish  
><strong>Genre<strong> Gen/Pre-series  
><strong>Rating<strong> PG (without language taken into account), R (with language taken into account)  
><strong>Word Count<strong> 1,493  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong> The Thick of It c. Iannucci, BBC  
><strong>Summary<strong> Before Tom was PM or Malcolm had a steady secretary, Malcolm lost his phone at the height of election season. Lucky for Malcolm, Sam was the one who picked it up and kept it safe.  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong> possible spoilers for all series of _The Thick of It_  
><strong>Notes<strong> I should probably come up with a title for these and hook them together on AO3 with a snazzy series title. I suspect there will be more every so often. This came about because I was talking to Ruby again. Two ratings because I crosspost my stories to places that want the MPAA rating. 

_**By Chance**_

Tom was going to become the next prime minister. Malcolm was certain. Malcolm would make it happen even if he had to sacrifice a goat in the process, possibly literally, if it would not cause the campaign to come to a screeching scandalous halt. He lived with his mobile to his ear, currently stuck on the crowded pavement. He needed to cross the road the wait was long. Just as Malcolm finished a conversation with one person, another would call. Jamie was on the other end of the line now, reporting in that there was a member on the party about to cock up in a big way and Jamie needed reinforcements.

"If he thinks he can pull that kind of fuckery against Tom at the last minute," Malcolm hissed. He paused and listened to Jamie. "Just tie him to a chair. I don't fucking care. Cuff him down, shove a catheter up his cock, and don't let him even blink until I'm there." He hung up his mobile with a frustrated aspiration of air. When Malcolm lowered his arm to put his mobile back into his pocket, his arm came down on the arm of a woman standing beside him. Malcolm looked at her.

Sam looked back at him. She looked like any other young professional, who did not try to call attention to themselves. "Sorry," she said. She had not meant to stand too close, but they were in the midst of a growing crowd waiting to cross.

"No," Malcolm said quickly, not wanting to cause more of a scene for Tom's sake, "it's fine." The light changed and the instant Malcolm could cross, he was off at a frenzied run to clamp down on whoever might be causing Tom trouble back at the office.

Sam watched him leave. Just before she could start out across the road, her foot kicked something. She looked down and picked up a discarded mobile. It was already ringing with the name Tom across the screen. Sam realized it might be Malcolm's mobile. She did not notice if he had put it away or dropped it when their arms collided earlier. "Wait!" she called out, but Malcolm was nowhere in sight. Sam sighed and ran her tongue along her teeth. She put the mobile in her purse for safekeeping and crossed the road before the light could change.

Malcolm got to the office in time to shove the target of his ire back into his personal office when the man tried to leave when Malcolm opened the door. Once Malcolm, Jamie and the target were alone in Malcolm's office, they began a game of bad cop-bad cop until they instilled enough terror to turn the target loose. Once the man was gone, Malcolm and Jamie took a moment to quietly regroup.

"You're quiet," Jamie said. He put his hands in his pockets.

"You just heard me tell someone I was going to braid his intestines together and use them to hang his career," Malcolm said.

"Your mobile," Jamie clarified. "It didn't interrupt us."

Malcolm reached into his right jacket pocket. Then he tried his left jacket pocket, breast pocket, interior jacket pocket, and turned out his trouser pockets. Wallet, pens, handkerchief, and stray candy. No mobile. "Fuck." Malcolm dissolved into almost unintelligent cursing and looked around the room. There was no mobile. Even with Jamie's help, they could not find Malcolm's mobile.

The mobile Sam picked up off the pavement earlier had not stopped ringing. Sam never answered the mobile nor did she go through the contact list. She kept an eye on the screen to see if the man who ran off tried to make contact. She saw him on the news but could not remember his name if she ever heard it. She knew he was part of Tom's election team, and she knew the content on the mobile was very important. Text messages to the phone were rare, and the second one received was meant for her.

"To the cunt who has my mobile. Answer the next call from this number. – M."

Sam took a breath. She made up a lie that her mother was going to call her with an emergency, and took the phone into a stairwell at work. Sam could remember trying not to listen to the string of vulgarity when she stood at the crosswalk beside Malcolm earlier in the day. She had a feeling whatever he said to her now would not be kind. When the mobile rang, she checked it was the same number that sent the text and answered.

"Don't say a word, not one fucking word," Malcolm said in a dangerous voice. "You don't get options. You only get one. "

Sam remained quiet. She listened to Malcolm's instructions. They would meet at a park nearby. She was to sit on the bench and wait for him to arrive. She was to bring the phone.

"Do you understand?" Malcolm asked, voice still harsh.

"Yes," Sam said. Her voice was calm, quiet, and firm. She glanced around the stairwell. She was the only person around still. She decided to slip away quietly and return as though nothing had happened. Hopefully it would work.

"Don't pull any spy shit," Malcolm said. He ended the call and handed the mobile back to Jamie. Malcolm rubbed his face and made sure everything was back in his pockets before leaving.

Sam made her way to the location quickly. The bench was in sight of the pavement, though no one noticed her when she sat down on it. The mobile continued to make noise despite her purse muffling it. She looked up when she heard hurried, excitable footsteps approach.

Malcolm's pace slowed when he saw her. Sam was not the person he expected, though he had not formulated who might have the mobile.

Sam held his gaze and then she reached into her purse and retrieved the mobile. She sensed him sit down beside her more than actually saw him do it. She handed the mobile to him. "I wanted to give it back immediately, but you ran," Sam said.

Malcolm took the mobile. He glanced at the ID screen and then pressed the silent button. He placed the mobile in an interior pocket of his suit.

"I just let it ring," she said. "I thought you would likely try to make contact when you realized it was gone." She closed her purse and stood up, smoothing down her work skirt. She knew she could not linger for long.

"What is your name?" Malcolm asked. His eyes remained on her face, studying her.

Sam looked down at him. "Sam Cassidy. And yours?"

"Malcolm Tucker," he said. His eyes continued to watch her face. "What's your typing score?"

"What?" Sam asked. Malcolm did not repeat the question. Sam slipped the strap of her purse over her head. "It's 110 on a good day," she said.

"Do you want a job? A new job?" Malcolm asked. "I could use a secretary like you, someone who knows the basic concepts of privacy."

Sam slid her fingers along the strap of her purse. "Do you talk to everyone like that?" She thought back to the conversations she heard and the conversation they had on the mobile.

"No," Malcolm said and he shook his head.

Sam studied him in this brief moment of calm. His fingers were tense. She could see his shrewdness and drive in his gaze. Something in her knew that if she agreed, she would likely work with him for the rest of his working life. Sam nodded. "I'll work for you," Sam said, "if we never have a conversation like we had that ever again. I don't want you to talk to me like that." She watched him, uncertain how he would handle the request.

"I promise," Malcolm said. He did not think it would be an issue.

Sam offered him a hand up off the bench. He took her hand and once he was on his feet, she let his hand go. "When do you need me?" Sam asked.

"Now," Malcolm said, "but I have to pull some strings. Where do you work?"

"A law firm down the road," Sam said. She reached into a pocket and pulled out her card, and gave it Malcolm. He gave her his card in turn. She looked at the office address and then put it in her other pocket.

"Put in your notice," Malcolm said, "and I'll expedite it." He reached into his jacket pocket, double-checking his phone was there. "I have to go." He offered her a hand to shake to seal their deal.

"Let me know when I begin," Sam said. She shook his hand firmly and then let go.

"I will." Malcolm gave a small wave and then he started walking away, getting the phone out to go through his messages and caught back up in the frenzy of election season. 

**The End**


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Thick of It