Chapter 14
“Okay, who was it?” Brian had asked me as I knocked him down from where he had been crouching over a half-packed box. He had fallen down, his hands splayed out to either side as his butt hit the floor. I’d sat on his lap, wiggling softly against his lap as I put my arms around his neck and grinned at him. We were both sweaty, mostly from packing in preparation for our move. It had to be done now, a week after the June Primary, because the rest of the summer was going to be far too hectic.
“Guess.” I said excitedly as he made a little thrust with his hips. I could feel he was getting excited through our sweatpants. My smile just grew larger.
“The President calling to apologize for calling you an example of moral degeneracy?” Brian teased and I kissed him gently for that.
“Nope.” I replied.
“I give up.” Brian said with a laugh as he pulled me tighter into him and kissed me again.
“The coach of the U.S. Olympic Baseball team.” I told him giddily and he actually had frowned at me!
“What did they want?” Brian asked. “You didn’t make the cut of the team.”
“I should let you see what it’s like to sleep alone for that!” I’d said with mock anger and he had kissed me again.
“Sorry, but you know what I mean.” Brian stated.
“Yeah, I was having a bad day at those tryouts.” I replied.
“So what did he want?” Brian asked.
“They’re cutting a pitcher who got into trouble recently.” I told my lover. “He wanted to know if I would play.”
“Oh, wow.” Brian said with a smile that turned into a frown. “What did you tell him?”
“That I had to talk it over with you.” I knew what I wanted, but we both had to make this big of a decision. “I’d need to fly out next week to make the practices back East, and then the games in August in Spain, of course, but that’s it.”
“What about all the campaign appearances you’re supposed to do?” Brian asked and I frowned.
“I can do them after the Olympics.” I stated after a moment of thought.
“What about school?” Brian asked and my frown deepened. “It starts two weeks after the closing ceremony.”
“There’s weekends and our first year we have Monday morning off.” I countered and he shook his head before smiling.
“You know why they called you.” Brian’s voice held an edge to it.
“Yeah, but it’s not like the MBL where I’d be pitching year after year, it’s just a dozen or so games, and I will probably only play in a few according to the coach.” I explained cautiously. “It’s not enough that even if I mess up it’ll hurt gay people as a whole, but just being there…c’mon Brian!”
“Do I get to go watch you play?” Brian said with a leer. “You know how I get turned on…”
“Yes.” I had whispered, giving him a kiss to cut him off. It was several hours before we got back around to packing, and there had been several more phone calls to make before I could call the coach back and tell him I’d be there.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Are you sure about this, son?” Dad had asked as we looked at the Bronze medal in the trophy case. I’d ordered it and had it installed in the entryway of my parent’s home in Modesto. In it were all of the sports and academic trophies I’d earned over the years, capped off at the top with the Olympic Bronze I’d earned as part of the U.S. Olympic Baseball team.
History had been changed again, as Sean had noted. In the original 1992 Olympics, the U.S. team had lost to Cuba twice, earning fourth place over all. In this timeline, we’d earned the Bronze by beating Cuba in our second game against them. We’d won by one run. I’d only played three innings in the entire set of games during the Olympics, but in the last of those innings, the sixth inning of our last game against Cuba, I’d managed to do something that had helped contribute to our win.
A long sacrifice fly had gotten a runner from second base to home plate, scoring a run.
It was ironic that I’d spent so much time over the years of my last childhood practicing my pitching, but it was a sacrifice fly that had helped our team win third place in the 1992 Olympics. Still, it was an accomplishment I was proud of, and when I’d put away my cleats for the last time, I knew I could be satisfied with what I’d accomplished in the realm of sports. It had been a transcending experience for me, preparing me for the return to the States and being embroiled in a massive political attack.
My poor father had suffered a lot of dirty looks, and a lot of pressure by his fellow Republicans at their national convention. In no less than three different speeches there were comments about being ‘shameful’ in the open acceptance of ‘deviants’, a slightly indirect attack at my father. I’d steered clear of that convention, especially since I’d been a prominent attendee at the Democratic Convention as a delegate in support of Bill Clinton.
“I’m sure, Dad.” I told him with a broad smile. It really did look good in this, my childhood home. I loved it more than I had any other. “This is where I grew up, it’s where… it’s my family’s home. Don’t ever sell it.”
“There’s no worry of that, son.” Dad said as he reached over and gave me a hug.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“You look good on television.” Brian commented as we watched the Murphy Brown episode. It was another difference between previous timelines. This time around, when Vice-President Dan Quayle had insulted the Murphy Brown character’s decision to have a child without getting married, he’d also added a line about me, and my shameful pride in my deviancy. The fact that he’d blamed it on my father for not being around much when I was growing up had infuriated me, and when I’d gotten a phone call from Candice Bergen, inviting me to take part in an episode lampooning the Vice-President, I’d been all too happy to take part.
I had to agree with Brian, I looked damn good on television in my Team U.S.A. uniform, with my bronze medal around my neck. It had only taken ten takes for me to get my lines right, and the ending scene of the potatoes being dumped in front of the Vice-President’s residence had me laughing as hard as I had in both previous timelines that had made it this far.
“Next time I’ll insist they write you into the scene.” I told Brian as we laid together on our leather couch. Outside it was cold, but in our tenth-floor New York apartment the fire in the fireplace kept us warm, as did the heat of our bodies touching each other.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“With eighty-two percent of precincts reporting, we’re ready to call the races for California’s two senate seats.” Dan Rather said on television and a hush fell over the Sheraton Hotel in Sacramento, California. Dad had decided to hold the election party here, instead of in Modesto, mostly because no hotel in Modesto was large enough to handle the crowd of thousands downstairs. Brian and I had managed to get some time off from Law School to come out here tonight, and our flight back left early in the morning. We’d still miss another half-day of classes, but it was worth it to be here with our parents, my sister, her boyfriend, Sean, and Brandon. We were all gathered around the television in the hotel suite, and Dad had just gotten off of the phone with his Democratic opponent. “With sixty-three percent of the vote, we are projecting Republican David R. Jones Sr. has succeeded in keeping the seat he was appointed to by Governor Pete Wilson in 1991. Democrat Dianne Feinstein also had a solid majority in the race for the junior seat, with nearly fifty-six percent of the vote.”
“Congratulations, Dad.” I said when it was my turn to hug my father.
“Thanks, son.” He said as an aide came in to remind Dad that we had several thousand supporters in the grand ballroom, waiting for his victory speech.
It was a good day, and well worth the circles under all of our eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Senator” I greeted my father with a smile as he came from around his desk and hugged me tightly. There was more silver in his hair every time I saw him. He was only forty-six, but his hair was well progressed into being salt and pepper. Luckily he’d kept up an exercise routine and had managed to keep off a lot of the weight many senators seemed to collect. “You look good.”
“You do too, son.” Dad said as he released me from the hug and looked me over. I was dressed in an expensive suit, as was he. We were standing in his Senate office, across from the capitol building. “Have a seat. I’m glad you could make it.”
“My teachers decided I was doing well enough that missing another day or two wouldn’t kill my grades.” I said with a shrug. First year law school was tough, tougher than any schooling I’d had to deal with in over sixty years of remembered lifetimes. Still, I was doing very well, and had managed to stay current. Part of that was because Brian and I were able to help each other a lot.
“Well, I’m glad because I need your help.” Dad said with a heavy sigh and I just lifted an eyebrow. I knew he was having a lot of problems with the Republican leadership in the Senate. They all but blamed him in large part for the Bush loss in 1992 to Bill Clinton, and when Dad had been tapped by the new President to help with the Gays in the Military issue, they’d removed Dad from the good committees he’d been assigned and placed him on the most obscure committees they could find. That effectively meant he was cut out from a lot of the deal-making Senators needed to keep voters back home happy, and in six years could really hurt his chances for re-election.
“What can I do for you?” I asked my father. He’d more than earned any support I could give him, and not just from the brilliant move he’d made with the Gays in the Military debate. He’d managed to sit down with Senator Sam Nunn, the conservative Democrat who had all but forced Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell down Bill Clinton’s throat in the original 1992, and between them had hammered out something even I had a hard time arguing with.
A bill was now in committee that would re-write Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. This was the article that made it illegal for military members to have oral or anal sex with anyone (of the same or opposite gender), or with an animal. When Dad had advised President Clinton to issue an executive order to all military commanders, requiring them to fully prosecute every heterosexual soldier who engaged in oral or anal sex with a person of the opposite gender, an immediate revolt had happened. Military commanders had gone to Congress begging them to change the Article 125 so that it was no longer a crime for soldiers and sailors to have oral sex.
It was a stroke of brilliance, because my father had gotten a chance to call a press conference where he denounced the military leadership for not fairly enforcing the law, and he introduced a bill, co-sponsored with Sam Nunn, that re-wrote Article 125. Not only did it release the regulations concerning oral or anal sex, it decriminalized all sexual activity between consenting adults, thereby removing the major bar from service by gays and lesbians. The President had given the bill his full support and now was issuing Executive Orders, largely suggested by my father, which would set strict guidelines on what was considered proper behavior by uniformed members of the armed forces.
Once everything was passed, it would let gays and lesbians serve openly, but it held provisions where they could be punished for upsetting ‘good order and discipline.’ Fortunately, what that meant was also fully defined. If a man in a unit attempted to force another soldier into sex, he could be punished severely, whether it was another male soldier or a female soldier, and the punishments were required to be ‘equivalent’ regardless of the gender of the soldiers involved. A soldier running around in make-up, taunting and teasing other soldiers would find himself in big trouble, as would a gay-bashing soldier. With a determination that he hadn’t had in the first timeline, Bill Clinton faced down the generals and admirals and told them they would enforce the new regulations, or they could hand in their commissions.
The bill was still in committee, being held up by Republican leadership, but the fact was there were now enough Democrat and Republican votes to end debate and move the measure to conference committee. The House version of the bill, worded exactly the same and passed without being amended, had barely been approved with just two votes more than needed. The Senate Bill was doing better, with eleven votes more than needed to pass the floor, if it ever got there.
“Son, the Article 125 revision goes to committee vote tomorrow.” Dad said with a heavy sigh and I smiled. “After that, it’s being sent right to the floor where there will be a day’s worth of debate and then a vote. We just reached the deal on it yesterday.”
“Congratulations.” I told him. “And thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Dad said with a frown. “I had to make… certain promises to get the hold on it lifted.”
“What kind of promises?” I asked him.
“I had to promise that I won’t seek the Republican nomination for my Senate seat in 1994.” Dad said dourly. Because he’d been appointed in 1991, he had to run for election in 1992, but it was only for a ‘short term’. He had to run again in 1994 for a full six-year term.
“That’s not… fair.” I said with a sinking feeling. Of course it wasn’t fair.
“They told me, and I quote ‘You’re too liberal for the Republican Party of the future.’” Dad explained with a heavy frown. He almost looked noxious. “Son, I have to say after this last election cycle, I’ve never been so ashamed of being a Republican. I called your Uncle Ronnie yesterday and we had a good chat.”
“What did he say?” I asked my father pensively. I hadn’t spoken to Uncle Ronnie since just after the Olympics. Ever since I’d declared myself a Democrat, we just hadn’t been as close. It was nothing to do with me being gay, I knew, just that I was a Democrat.
“He wants you to call him more.” My father said to my surprise. “That damn Alzheimer’s is just getting worse for him, you know.”
“I know.” I said softly. In another year it would be announced to the public.
“He… I think he knows he doesn’t have all that much time left with his full faculties, and I think he wants to invite you out for some horseback riding.” Dad told me and I nodded. I’d find time to do that for him.
“Is that what you called me out for?” I asked my father. “You know you could have told me over the phone and I’d have called him right after hanging up.”
“I know you would.” Dad said with a sigh. “No, what I called you for is… well you have very good credentials within the Democratic Party, don’t you?”
“Yes, you know I do.” I said with a shrug. “The President appointed me to a spot on the DNC after I campaigned for him last year. He didn’t even mind that I was campaigning for you at the same time, and when he asked me what I thought about how to handle the Gays in the Military promise he made, well I suggested he approach you for this part of the strategy.”
“How much of this whole GIM plan was your doing?” My father asked with a wise smile and I smirked.
“Most of it.” I admitted and he let out a short bark of laughter.
“I figured as much.” He said with a sigh. “Son, you know my career as a Republican is over, don’t you? I mean, I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be easy before I agreed to move this bill, but now it’s all but dead.”
“You know the Democratic Party would be more than appreciative to have you under our tent.” I offered my father, knowing exactly what he was trying to say. He let out a sigh, and there was a twinkle in his eye.
“How long have you been waiting to say that?” He asked me.
“Since you butted heads with George Bush back in 1987.” I admitted and he laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes. I just smiled as he wiped away those tears and looked at me sharply.
“Have you had discussions with your fellow Democrats about this?” Dad asked and I nodded slightly.
“They were more of a ‘what if’ type conversation.” I admitted.
“What did they hypothetically put on the table if I… switched parties?” Dad asked in a voice that almost cracked on the last two words. I knew how much this must be tearing him apart.
“No offense, but you’re too junior to offer a committee chair position.” I told my father with an apologetic shrug. He waved it off as not important. “Other than that, they’ll offer you a seat on the Armed Forces committee, the Select Committee on Intelligence, as well as one other committee, and of course three sub-committees for Armed Forces.”
“No Appropriations?” My father asked and I shook my head. He frowned for a moment while he thought it over.
“I’ll want Agriculture.” Dad said carefully. “With the right sub-committees on that, I can keep the more conservative folks in the Central Valley back home happy.”
“I think they’ll go for it.” I told him but something struck me as odd. “Dad, I assume you want me to handle the preliminary negotiations for you, and I think I understand why, but don’t you think my presence will still cause some speculation to go on?”
“I’ve got a cover story for you.” He told me with a smile. “You know, adding your voice to those urging support of my bill on Article 125 because you’re considering being a reserve JAG officer would help the bill pass.”
“I don’t want to be in uniform again.” I said with a frown of my own. “I’ve served my time, albeit in another lifetime. I have no desire to be in the military again, even as a reservist.”
“Son, I didn’t say you actually have to do it, just that you would like it as an option for when you finish law school.” Dad pointed out.
“Okay.” I agreed after a moment of thought. “I take it you can arrange time with Senator Mitchell?”
“The Majority Leader will see you in about an hour.” Dad explained and his phrasing brought up something I knew I probably should mention to him.
“Have I ever shared with you the 1994 election of the first timeline, and the Republican ‘Contract with America’ from that election?” I asked my father who shook his head. I let out a long sigh. “Dad, I hate to say it, but your time in the majority party is going to be very short unless something major changes.”
“Explain.” My father’s voice was terse, and I did explain. It took nearly forty minutes for me to share everything I could remember with him about that election, down to which Democratic seats were lost, and who won them for the Republicans. When I was done, he sat silent for another few minutes. “Son, you better go see Senator Mitchell. Thanks for sharing this and I’ll be giving it a lot of thought.”
“I know you will, Dad.” I said, standing and reaching my hand out to him. “I guess now would be a good time to congratulate you and welcome to the Democratic Party.”
“Don’t rub it in.” Dad said with a sardonic grin as he shook my hand. “Now, get to work saving your old man’s ass.”
“Yes, sir!” I said, snapping to attention and throwing him a mocking salute. He just waved me off as he sat back down and turned to look out his window. It didn’t have much of a view, but it was enough to occupy his mind as he thought things over. I left in a hurry, and was five minutes late to the Majority Leader’s office. Luckily for me, he was running ten minutes late and so I had to wait for five before being shown into his office by his secretary. It was a much larger office in the Capitol itself, and was suitably impressive for the leader of the Senate.
“Thank you for seeing me, Senator.” I told him as I sat down and declined the offer of a drink. Senator George Mitchell was a shorter man, with a long, distinguished career. He’d do even better in his post-Senate career with his work on the peace treaty in Northern Ireland, but that was for the future.
“It’s a pleasure, Davey.” He replied. We’d met a few times over the last two years. “I must say you didn’t need to take time off of school to lobby this bill. The votes are pretty much all lined up.”
“I’m not really here for that sir.” I told him with a smile and he sat back in his chair, studying me in silence for a long moment. A slow smile lit his face and he nodded at me.
“I heard they pretty much told him his career was over.” Senator Mitchell said softly. “Your father is quite a crafty man, sending you in here under cover of S936. What does he want?”
“He’d request you consider him for Armed Forces, Select Intelligence, Agriculture and sub-committees to be discussed later.” I answered, and then added a few things of my own. “I’d suggest you also give him a voice on the DCCC. We’ve got a lot of Senators retiring in ’94 and with the usual slump experienced by having a Democratic President and a Democratic Congress, well, having a more conservative voice there couldn’t hurt us in the ’94 cycle. My mother’s going to be scrambling to revamp the political fundraising wing of her business, too.”
“I’ll make sure she gets taken care of, and as for your father’s requests, as well as your suggestion, I’d say ‘done’.” He replied so quickly I was left wondering if I’d missed something or should have asked for more. “There is a condition though.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“I want you to actually do what your cover story says you’re thinking.” He told me and I felt my stomach do a slow roll. “I don’t care which branch, but I think it would be good for the nation to have you declare your intention to serve as a reserve JAG officer. It’s only half-a-dozen years, but I want you to announce it when the President signs the bill. We’ll make sure you’re invited to the ceremony for that. Let’s face it; you’re the best role model the gay community has right now. You’re a young, athletic, openly gay man in a committed long-term relationship. You’re the boy next door everyone wants living next to them, and the fact that you’re gay doesn’t bother them half as much as some man in a dress that they see every year at one of those damned Pride parades.”
“So if the Republicans use this in ’94, it’ll look like they’re picking on me, and give you and every other person who voted for the bill some cover.” I said after a moment of thought.
“It’ll go a lot easier if we can point to a bronze-medal winning, young, handsome man who is going to law school every time Republicans accuse us of letting degenerates into the military.” He said. His point was a good one. Elections were based on perception, and the Republicans had used that masterfully in every congressional election from 1994 up to the sole 2004 election I remembered. I had gone back that first time before I found out if Bush or Kerry had won, but the attacks on Kerry were so severe I had a big problem believing he’d actually have beaten Bush Jr.
“How about if I talk Brian into doing it as well?” I asked him and he raised an eyebrow.
“If you do that, I’ll throw in a promise to help your father pass a bill to allow your sister to fly fighter jets.” He said with a smile.
“You’ll do that anyway.” I told him and he laughed.
“Okay, your father will be in charge of recruiting candidates in the Southern states for the DSCC.” He offered and I nearly dropped my mouth open on that one.
“Deal.” I answered and we rose to shake hands.
“When does your father want to make his announcement?” He asked me and I smiled.
“How about after S936 is signed into law?” I answered and he nodded.
“Tell him to schedule an appointment with me and Tom Daschle for the day after the signing ceremony.” Mitchell suggested. “We’ll go over the small details then. The other side will guess what is happening, but it’ll be too late for them to really mess anything important up.”
“Not a problem, sir.” I told him and he walked me to the door, bantering with small talk about various minor items, and then I was out the door and headed back to my father’s office. It was almost frightening for me how familiar the halls of Congress felt as I walked through them.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“The decision to recognize, or not recognize, same-sex relationships is a matter for the states to decide, not the federal government!” Dad’s voice boomed out over the television. He was on the Senate Floor, delivering his most recent attack on the Republican effort to pass a Defense of Marriage Act.
The Hawaii court case to recognize same-sex marriages had happened yet again, and the conservatives who had swept the House of Representatives in 1994 were pushing their DOMA again. This time, though, they did not control the Senate and it had died there last year. They were pushing it again, but it looked like my father was going to be able to kill it yet again.
In the election nearly two years ago, the Democratic leadership had disregarded my father’s warning about the danger of a Republican sweep in 1994. Fortunately his position with the DSCC had resulted in several key seats being retained by the party. While the Republicans led by Newt Gingrich and Tom Delay had swept the House of Representatives, securing a solid majority there, my father’s hand-picked, more conservative Democratic senate candidates had won enough seats to keep the Senate in Democratic control by a three-vote margin.
He’d challenged Tom Daschle for the post of Majority Leader, and had been strong enough in the post-election feeding frenzy to pose a serious threat. My father hadn’t expected to win the very senior position of Majority Leader, but had translated his support into securing the powerful Majority Whip position. With that, and secure in the leadership of a block of moderate Democratic senators, he’d been crucial in reaching across the aisle to several key moderate Republicans on certain issues. As a result, several of the President’s key appointments had sailed through the Senate much easier, and Republican social-control policies like DOMA had repeatedly failed in the Senate.
“The proponents of this nasty bill have said that it is to protect the sanctity of marriage, but that’s a lie.” My father was continuing his speech from the floor of the Senate. He was in his late-forties, and he looked it. His skin was still fairly wrinkle free, but there were crows feet in the corners of his eyes, and his dark hair was now more salt than pepper. It made him look more distinguished. He kept up with his regular exercise routine he’d adopted years ago and he made an impressive image on television now as a statesman, a proud man representing a proud state. “The truth is they have no real issues to stand on, the American people have rejected them time after time, so instead they seek to make you afraid, they seek to scare you about the big bad boogeymen trying to destroy your marriage. The truth is that we heterosexuals have done more damage to the sanctity of marriage than any dozen gay men or lesbians could ever do!”
“Shit, he’s firing with both barrels now.” Brian chortled next to me. I looked over at him and he smiled wickedly. “You sure he’s not a flaming liberal yet?”
“No, he’s pushing the Welfare Reform program.” I said with a shake of my head. Socially, Dad was much more liberal, but when it came to social programs and government spending he was definitely still more conservative. We were both wearing our dress uniforms and desperately trying to think of something besides where we were and what the upcoming day would bring. The fact that Brian’s Navy dress blues had one more award than mine did was something else that irritated me, but he’d earned his Navy Achievement Medal.
Law school had been rough for both of us, but more so for Brian who never really had the luxury of academic excellence. He’d made it through though by lots of hard work, and careful studying. As a result, he was a better researcher than I was, and could present legal documents that were rock solid.
I was better in the courtroom where I could sway a jury’s opinions with a great deal of ease.
“What’s got him so pissed?” Brian asked and I smirked at him. He just shook his head and waited for a verbal answer.
“You must have missed Tom Delay’s comments last week.” I told Brian who just raised one of his dark eyebrows. His hair may now be closer to brown than platinum blond, but his eyebrows were as dark as ever. For that matter, my own hair was now ‘officially’ brown instead of blond.
“What did old Tom say?” Brian asked and I let a chuckle escape my lips.
“He said ‘all homosexuals are deviants who don’t deserve recognition of their relationships.” I quoted and Brian shook his head in disgust.
“Just as bad as this bill’s assault on fine upstanding citizens of our country, is its assault on the rights of our right honorable states.” Dad continued his argument on the television. “The Republican party has always said it is a defender of the rights of states, but as they show with this bill, that is yet another falsehood. It is the purview of the states to define relationships their citizens might form with one another and the federal government has no role in telling them what they can or cannot do!”
“Yep, he’s letting go with both barrels.” Brian said with a laugh as the phone rang on the nightstand in our Baghdad hotel room. My lover picked it up, listened to it briefly and told the caller we’d be right down. He stood up, straightened up his uniform and looked at me. “It’s show time, Lieutenant Jones.”
“Oh great.” I said with a sigh. Who’d have thought his pushing us into the jobs at the U.N. would have led to us being assigned as DoD liaisons to the U.N. Weapons Inspection team, or that we’d be in this god-forsaken country in the middle of a major show-down between Saddam Hussein and the United Nations? Still, we had a mission to complete, and I wasn’t about to fail in it. Besides, I had a few facts rattling around in my brain that were helping here, although I knew they wouldn’t change things all that much, and the cruise missiles would still fly into Iraq next month.
The upside was that Brian and I were actually developing a fairly decent group of ‘information gatherers’ in the secondary, very secret role we were playing for the CIA. In 1993, just as had happened in the original timeline, the World Trade Center had been bombed by al-Quaeda, doing minor damage. Most of those who had carried out the attack were now on trial, but their masters were still roaming free.
I desperately wanted September 11, 2001 to be just another day on the calendar and I’d need these contacts in the future to make that happen.As with all my stories, E provides immeasurable input, grammar checking, and all those other lovely editing thingies that make the story so much better!
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