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Title: Campaign Secrets

Disclaimer: All owned by NBC.

Summary: Want to know the truth about the Petrelli campaign? One intern reveals all.

Characters: Nathan Petrelli, Peter Petrelli, Mohinder Suresh, Mrs Petrelli, Mrs. Gray, Eden McCain, Claire Bennet, Hiro Nakamura, a lizard, one unfortunate intern, possibly named Emily.

Author’s Note: Parody with obvious precedents; as silly as it can get.

Spoilers: Vague ones for the entire season.

Rating: PG 13, to be on the safe side.

Thanks to:

wychwood for beta-reading.

Campaign Secrets

NATHAN: So you gonna come tonight? Gonna break out the suit, have a couple of drinks?

PETER: Yeah.

NATHAN: Rebuff the advances of my cute interns? Emily.

PETER: Yeah, I'm gonna be there.
(Ep.1.03, One Giant Leap)

Monday
Have decided on new course of action: campaign volunteer. Will be very stressful, but can offer several rewarding opportunities:

a) Candidate wins; am grass roots campaign veteran, will become real life version of Donna Moss. Always thought Josh cutest thing on West Wing.
b) Candidate loses; can write witty and biting bestseller. Have looked up sales from Carville and Stephanopoulos. Clearly worth it.

Stupid boyfriend makes Monica Lewinsky joke. Now ex-boyfriend. Ha! As if. Am pure and mercenary of mind; career woman, not supplier of questionable laundry.

A.D.A. Petrelli v. v. hot, though.

Tuesday
Day Two of working for Petrelli campaign. Much work. Mostly interviewing people for polls. No opportunity for cute West Wing style banter, as people answering mostly with “yes” and “no”. Dull. But! Little brother of candidate showed up for argument and back rub. Little brother v. v. cute and also single, so would have volunteered for back rub, but Mr. P. went there first. Darn.

Thursday
Was a bit late for work, so took taxi; taxi driver most beautiful man ever. Would have appreciated sight in mirror, but taxi driver started monologuing about evolution. Promptly fell asleep. Ah, well. Do not need a social life right now anyway. At campaign HQ was told to go to department store and pay for socks taken by Mrs. P in illegal manner. This apparently sign that am in trusted circle now. Wonder about significance of socks, though. Mafia symbolism, like fish? Catholic thing? Must decode for future best seller!

Friday
Japanese tourists getting worse and worse! Wanted to buy paper and saw one robbing vendor. Told Mr. P that he needed to emphasize fight against foreign crime more in campaign promises. Mr. P. distracted by little brother, though, who came and talked about “flying”. More Mafia/Catholic code? Or maybe just request for back rub, as received same again. Am still working on phrasing of “I am good at massage, too!” in inconspicuous manner.

Monday
Fundraiser disaster. Met Mrs P., tried to signal socks business settled by me and discreetly enquire code meaning of socks; this resulted in being sent into kitchen to help with catering. Missed Mr. P’s speech! Also, Peter P. gone by time I had escaped kitchen; v. v. disappointed. Then discovered that he had forgotten umbrella; rushed after him and found him smooching glamour girl with umbrella already open. V. v. unfair.

Tuesday
Life so v. v. depressing. Mr. P off to Las Vegas to meet campaign sponsor; volunteered to come along, in vain. Was given more polls instead. Was sent away by lots of people. Finally found woman in Queens who answered questions and promised to vote Petrelli, then noticed collection of snow globes and drew obvious conclusion: woman nuts. More to the point, woman not registered voter. Left, was cursed by snowglobe woman and told son of snowglobe only suitable leader of country anyway. Made it to the subway unmugged and brightened up: Hot Little Brother and Beautiful Taxi Driver both there, together! Looking stressed! Was about to finally use phrase about massages when had sudden shoulder cramp as if standing with arm outstretched for hours. Curses! L.B. and B.T.D. then left in opposite directions. Was torn; followed B.T.D. WHO WENT TO BURIAL INSTITUTE! OMG! Mafia suspicions reawakened. Secret assassin, working for Petrelli family?

Wednesday
Decided to risk visiting B. T. D. on my own, but found only woman in his apartment. V. v. unfair. Again. Woman claimed he had gone home (decoded that to mean: possibly on secret assassin mission?) and gave me lizard to care for, as refused to do same herself. Am not pet person! Otoh, lizard possibly test of trust, like payment for socks. Must not fail; am living dangerous life. Oh! “Dangerous life” good title for future bestseller, no?

Friday
At campaign HQ, took phone call from woman in Las Vegas who wanted Mr. P’s personal phone number. Refused, of course; woman then started wailing and mumbling about shared hotel rooms. Decided to shut her up by giving her personal Petrelli phone number, as was not sure campaign phone line not hacked into by press. Do not need media competition for big scoop!

Monday
Am starting despair of chances for Mr. P.’s election. Out of the blue, was told to book him flight to Texas. Las Vegas, Texas: no constituents there! Perhaps campaign really only cover for organized crime activities. V. depressing, that; would prefer to write politics and crime bestseller, not crime only bestseller. And NO chance at being next Donna Moss. Booked flight to Texas, got smile from Mr. P, was reminded again that Mr. P. possibly hotter than either B.T.D. or Little Brother; tried to suggest he needed assistant on trip to Texas. No such luck. Most determined lone flyer ever. Ah, well.

Wednesday
New theory: Petrellis involved in gang war with rival clan. Little Brother Peter P. in hospital = Sonny Corleone shot down? Have started to wear bullet-proof vest beneath coat, as cannot publish when dead. Makes me move more clumsily, though. Feel as though am bumping into invisible people all the time.

Wednesday (again, two dull weeks later)
Beautiful taxi driver’s real identity as Petrelli factotum confirmed when being asked by Mr. P to find out his address; Mr. P. feigning ignorance of same. Clearly revenge strike attack for attack on brother on the way. Mr. P in disguise when visiting B.T.D.: was wearing hideous suit which did not know existed in his wardrobe. B.T.D. also in disguise: was wearing horrid scarf obviously doubling as strangling weapon. Am awaiting news of dead body showing up any moment now. Meanwhile, am ordered to do more polls.

Monday
Ethical dilemma: lizard ill. Could return it to B.T.D., but would then fail cunning test and might get fired from campaign. Or strangled. Bullet-proof vest no defense there. Also, material for future bestseller not enough. Decided to bring lizard to vet. Vet living next to painter’s studio. Am artistic person at heart, so wondered whether I should take a look. Then heard gun shots; dead author of no use to anyone, so retreat. In conclusion: am still stuck with lizard.

Tuesday
FBI visiting Mr. P. turning out not nearly as annoying as door lock not working; damm thing opens and closes on its own. Campaign manager noticed and told me to get repair man. Typical. Can’t do a single thing himself. Where would Petrelli campaign be without me? Same place as airlines would be, as had to book a ticket to Vegas for Mr. P. AGAIN. Single, you guessed it.

No sign of cute little brother for weeks now. Life so v. v. unfair.

Wednesday
Score! Was supposed to bring latest results to Petrelli residence to be ready once Mr. P. back from Vegas. Spotted taxi; spotted beautiful taxi driver. Jumped into taxi! Back seat full of blood drops. Heart racing; played it cool. Taxi driver NOT monologuing; utterly silent. Told him to drive me home; decided to risk same as taxi driver without hideous scarf of strangling doom and blood in back seat proof that had already fulfilled assassin quota of day anyway. Did not fall asleep, could gaze at B.T.D. at heart's content throughout drive, left taxi unmolested. Most beautiful assassin ever. Must be played by hot guy from Lost in movie version of my book.

Friday
Return of Peter P. to campaign HQ! Was ready to warn him that argument with and back rub from Mr. P. would have to wait due to visitor, but saw that he was with blonde nymphet (Peter P., not visitor!) and stopped in tracks. Nymphet put hands on him! Am v. v. disappointed. Should have used my massage offer weeks ago; little blonde slut got there first. Both rushing off in obvious haze of lust. Was prepared to nobly warn Mr. P about impending scandal, but Mr. P rushing off as well. Decided that nobility does not pay anyway. Maybe should use cell phone camera next time?

Monday
Japanese criminal who robbed kiosk vendor weeks ago not tourist but possible member of Yakuza. Saw him with sword and confederate accosting Mr. P! Visions of Kill Bill flashing in my head. Did not want to lose limbs to sword; did not want Mr. P. to lose same either, as waste of male hotness, even if Mr. P. has self to blame for being involved with Mafia and not having Beautiful Taxi Driver Assassin with him as body guard. Was torn apart (mentally)! Ready to take personal risk by yelling for police when Mr. P escaped Japanese killer by leaning forward as if to kiss same. Clearly took page from Michael Corleone in Godfather II! Japanese killer, realizing kiss of death significance, burst into tears and fled. Was impressed. Mafia almost American, Yakuza foreign import: so supporting Mafia here.

Tuesday
Election Day. Mr. P risking all by locking self up in office with blonde (another one! At least this one not nymphet but of age!) and hot black guy. Was able to listen for a bit at door and heard blonde say “you want the same thing we do”; recognized her voice from phone. Never would have thought Mr. P. type for bisexual threesome; far too liberal for him! Am no longer surprised voters disbelieve conservative stance. Otoh, new results just in – Mr. P clear lead!

Might have future as Donna Moss after all.

Current Mood: silly
Current Location: Bad Wiessee