CAMPAIGNING IN PHILLY

He stood off to the side, surveying the crowd in the High School auditorium. It was a nice turn out. He was glad to see all of the young Philadelphians. The young were his target audience. Linda, his press aide was ushering a group down to the front right of the stage. He was beginning to recognise a lot of them. Some of the press had been on his trail for nearly a year. He was sorry that he didn't know them. They seemed to work as hard as he did. But it wasn't appropriate for him to get too chummy with the press.

He'd named them from a distance. The tall skinny red head, he called, very imaginatively, Big Red. The old African lady, he thought of as Batty. Well, she really seemed to be. Look at her outfit! There were a group of young guys he could never quite distinguish from one another. They always made him think of his college days, and he called them the Kappa's in honor of his old fraternity. Then there was Canada, Blue Eyes, Pony Boy, Tiny Terry…Now look, there was a new face in the crowd. Well of course, there were always new faces, but this one stood out, mostly because he wasn't like the others. He wasn't playing with a tape recorder, or taking notes on the speech that his Campaign organiser was giving. Rather, his attention was fixed completely on…who? Blue Eyes? Yes siree. It looked like it. Blue Eyes didn't seem to be aware. She was alternately studying the speaker on stage and then scribbling in her pad. So what was Mystery Guy looking at her for?

The senator shrugged. Maybe she had something on her face that he couldn't see from here. Suddenly the mood in the auditorium changed and he realised it was time for him to make his appearance. He straightened up and plastered on his photograph smile as he strode out to greet his audience. In that moment he saw Blue Eyes look around her, taking in the room no doubt. And she saw Mystery Guy. Her face changed. Barack Obama almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing, as he watched the two stare at each other. He kept his smile on at ten thousand watts and beamed to the auditorium, hoping no one noticed that his eyes were drifting continuously to the press corner. Blue Eyes seemed happy, but unsure. Ooh, Mystery Guy was moving over to her. Big Red didn't look too pleased about him shouldering past like that. But Mystery Guy was small and wiry; he'd gone before Big Red could react.

The audience were starting to get restless. Obama realised he'd about worn out his smile. He shook his head, trying to forget about Blue Eyes and focused on his job. He began to deliver his speech, but couldn't help that his attention was constantly focused on the right side of the room. Blue Eyes wasn't taking notes any more. Mystery Guy had pulled her into a strange, awkward hug. Hm, there's some back story to those two. No – you're on stage damn it! Focus!

'…country is in danger…economic policies…'

Blue Eyes was making notes again, but not as intensely. He could see Mystery Guy leaning in to whisper in her ear.

'…I have strong plans…'

She was smiling at something he'd said. Not a casual, 'oh, that was amusing' smile either. It was a million watt affair that put his smile to shame.

'…can not allow McCain in office, so he can sit idly by during the housing crisis…'

She was scribbling again. Somehow he realised now that she wasn't scribbling about the housing crisis. Mystery Guy was reading over her shoulder and then he smiled too. Not a high wattage beam…in fact it was better described as a smirk.

'…which is why, for a better America…vote Barack Obama, Democrat.'

The floor was opened for questions, and he desperately wanted Blue Eyes to address him about something, but he was well aware that neither her, nor her Mystery Guy had anything to ask. The two were lost together, Blue Eyes hands in his hair, Mystery Guy holding her waist, pulling her into him as they kissed hotly and fiercely, right there in the crowd. They looked like they were trying to fuse themselves together. Obama smiled and then realised that he was staring and felt himself starting to blush.

'…uh, sorry, could you repeat the question?'