Chapter Text
Mike’s wedding, surprisingly, went off without a hitch. (Ignoring the brief chaos surrounding the Maddox announcement, of course.)
That being said, ____ hadn’t thought it was possible for her job to become any more hectic. This, of course, was proven wrong the moment POTUS announced he wouldn’t be running for a second term.
She didn’t mind the rush. If anything, it excited her.
The prospect of a real challenge, the opportunity to make a real change in the world, had ____ feeling more optimistic than she had felt in a long time. Selina was practically buzzing with anticipation, dragging the team from one meeting to the next as the campaign began to take shape.
Even with all the thrills of this new beginning, the highlight of it all was the video ____ had received from Dan while she was leaving Mike’s wedding: Jonah, being publicly banished from the White House by a thoroughly disgruntled Kent. ____ had laughed out loud in the middle of the sidewalk watching it, earning a strange look from a passing couple as she climbed into her car.
She texted Kent soon after, forwarding the video with an added "you've done your country a great service. I'll see to it that you get a purple heart."
He texted back a singular saluting emoji. ____ cackled, staring for a little too long at the simple response. This might have been his first time using an emoji. It was definitely the first time she had seen him use one. She didn't think too hard about how it made her heart swell.
Somehow, despite the frenzy that followed POTUS’s announcement, Kent still managed to occupy an embarrassing amount of space in her mind. She found herself replaying the hug in her mind more often than not.
Not even the whole thing, sometimes. Just pieces of it. The feeling of his arms around her waist. The brief lift off the floor. The way he had smiled at her afterward.
And the worst part was that she looked for him everywhere.
Every time ____ walked into the office, some part of her immediately checked to see if he was there. Every meeting at the White House had her eyes flicking compulsively toward the doorway every couple seconds, desperate for any moment more with him. She started taking routes through the EEOB that happened to pass by areas he frequented, halfheartedly trying to convince herself it was out of convenience and not desperation.
After a while, she stopped fighting the urge to seek him out. More than once, she'd spend her brief break periods wandering the general vicinity of his office, hoping with each pass that he would have appeared, waiting with an open door for her to come by and greet him.
Good god.
That night, after yet another fourteen-hour workday, ____ dropped her bag by the door of her house and stood silently in the kitchen for a long moment. The quiet felt unnatural after the constant noise of the office.
She slipped her heels off, quietly padding across the hardwood as she moved toward the table, pulling a takeout container from the fridge before deciding she wasn’t hungry enough to bother reheating it.
Instead, she just sat and thought. Which, unfortunately, was where things started going downhill.
“Fuck this,” she muttered aloud, dragging both hands down her face.
She stared up at the ceiling, slumping back in the kitchen chair. Selina was about to launch a presidential campaign. An actual presidential campaign. The opportunity of a lifetime. This was the kind of thing staffers killed for, and ____ was right there on the frontline.
Her focus needed to be work.
Not Kent. Not whatever this weird, confusing, painfully one-sided thing had become in her head.
Because that was what it was, wasn’t it?
One-sided.
Sure, he liked her, she did know that much. They were good friends. But Kent liked all his friends, however few of them there were, so why should she encourage any delusion that maybe his feelings went deeper?
The thought sat heavily in her chest. She groaned a little too loud, dropping her forehead onto the table with a dull thunk.
“You are a grown woman,” she muttered aloud. “You are not sixteen.”
Her voice, muffled against the wood, didn't sound convinced.
____ knew better. She knew exactly what happened when people in politics prioritized feelings. Had watched smart people become idiots because someone smiled at them a few times in a hallway.
And yet here she was. Thinking about the way Kent had looked holding her in the middle of Selina’s office while Gary cried in the background.
And she was desperate for more.
She lifted her head again with a sigh, staring across the kitchen toward nothing in particular.
Work. That was the priority. No more overanalyzing every little interaction they had, no more stressing over every interaction she spotted between Kent and Sue. It all had to stop.
This campaign could change her life. The team's life too. It could change a lot of lives, actually.
Selina could actually become president. That mattered more than some impossible, schoolgirl crush on a friend.
____ huffed loudly, straightening in her chair.
"Okay," she decided out loud. No more spiraling. No more staring at doorways hoping for a glimpse of Kent. She could do that.
It didn't stop.
A week later, the campaign office had officially begun coming together.
____ walked a few steps behind Selina and Amy as they made their way through the cramped new headquarters, shoes sticking faintly against sections of poorly cleaned flooring. The entire space smelled like stale coffee, printer ink, and cardboard.
It was small. Dingy. Crowded. But it had potential.
"The world only just heard POTUS isn't running again," Amy reminded Selina as they moved deeper into the room. " So obviously we're not here and this doesn't exist."
Selina nodded distractedly, though her expression remained thoroughly displeased at the state of the office.
A volunteer passing by offered her an enthusiastic smile instead. “We’re so excited to have you here, ma’am.”
Selina smiled back with a strained expression. “Oh. Well. Great. Wonderful,” she replied tightly.
____ bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
Selina’s discomfort only worsened when a tall, cheerful looking young man hurried toward them, saying something about the men's toilet being broken before noticing Selina and flipping the switch into an over-enthusiastic greeting.
Selina visibly flinched, shooting ____ a look that the man didn't seem to notice. "Wow, here you are. See, now, I thought that I had left you 750 miles ago."
This must be Richard, ____ realized immediately, biting back a smile.
She’d heard more than enough complaints about the man during the book launch. According to Selina, Richard Splett was “a humanoid puppy with access to government buildings” and “somehow even more irritating than Kent.”
Personally, ____ didn’t see the problem. He sounded sweet. Maybe she did have a type.
Richard seemed nice enough. Maybe a little too innocent for Washington, but that was almost refreshing to see.
Selina nodded along, eyes glassy, as the young man continued to engage her in conversation. Taking pity on her boss, ____ eventually stepped forward to introduce herself, angling herself in between the pair.
“Hi,” she interrupted gently, offering Richard an apologetic smile. “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”
Selina looked at her with immediate gratitude before quietly retreating toward Amy.
Richard turned his attention from the vice president, offering a friendly smile to ____.
“Oh! Hello! Richard Splett, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
“____, it's a pleasure to meet you too,” she introduced herself, extending a hand.
The moment she said her name, something visibly clicked in his expression, recognition washing over his face.
“Oh!” he said again, this time with genuine delight. “Miss ____! Mr. Davison has spoken very highly of you.”
____ blinked.
She shook his hand, pretending her heart hadn't practically stopped at the thought of Kent speaking about her to others.
“Sorry, you know Kent?” she asked carefully.
Richard nodded enthusiastically, completely unaware of the psychic damage he had just inflicted.
“Oh, yes, I worked alongside his team during the budget negotiations a few months ago. Your name came up often. He seems to be rather fond of you.”
____ fought very hard to keep her expression neutral.
“That’s…” She cleared her throat lightly. “That’s nice of him. I'm quite fond of him too.”
“He just seems to really respect you,” Richard continued, completely oblivious. “Which is kind of a big deal, honestly. Mr. Davison doesn’t compliment people much.”
Across the room, Selina was now loudly complaining about fluorescent lighting while Amy ignored her with the patience of a saint.
“That’s…” ____ swallowed once, resisting the urge to smile too widely. “How kind of him.”
This time, Selina came to ____'s aid without realizing it, turning her attention back to Richard and another nearby volunteer.
“Okay, who are you?” The older woman asked suddenly, pointing at another volunteer standing nearby.
The young woman blinked. “Kelly.”
“Right. Kelly.” Selina nodded like she'd already forgotten the name. “Are you gonna be joining us on the Coast Guard boat tonight?”
____'s head lifted.
Right. The boat.
She had almost forgotten about the Coast Guard appearance scheduled for later that evening. "Pre-campaign campaigning," Amy had called it.
____'s mind raced, barely registering Dan's voice in the background trying to convince Selina to let him skip the boat tonight.
Kent talked about her. With other people. In a good way.
The thought replayed over and over.
She remembered the hug. The way he'd told her he'd have missed her if she'd gone to work for Jeff Kane.
She smiled at the floor despite herself.
"...I think I'm gonna need you just in case we make a drug bust or something and I need some snappy one-liners," Selina was saying somewhere nearby. ____ blinked, tuning back into the conversation.
Dan looked uninterested.
"Uh..." He scratched his neck. "'The only laundering you're gonna be doing from now on is prison blankets.'"
Selina offered a half-smile, seeming less than impressed. "…Eh, that's kind of clever."
"The only crack you're gonna see belongs to some guy in a shower," Richard chimed in.
Both ____ and Dan snorted.
Just then, as Gary stepped forward with a suggestion, ____'s phone began vibrating.
Ben.
"Sorry," she murmured, stepping away from the group to answer. "Hey, Ben."
"____." Ben sounded exhausted. "Tell me you're not already on that stupid boat."
She smiled.
"Not yet."
"Good. We need another set of eyes on POTUS's Institute of Medical Ethics speech."
She considered it, mentally comparing her two options. Boring speech, or an inevitable argument with the team on a small boat in the dark.
"How bad is it?"
"Half of POTUS's writers are out sick, and there's no way I trust this guy to fly solo."
____ grimaced. "Alright, gimme a sec."
She covered the phone's microphone and leaned back toward Selina.
"Ma'am? Sorry to interrupt."
"What?" Selina asked, distracted.
"Ben wants me back in D.C. to help work over POTUS's speech tonight. Do you need me on the boat, or am I okay to…"
Selina barely looked at her.
"What? Oh, yeah, ____, whatever, I've got Dan. You go… I don't know. Make that old sack of shit sound human," Selina replied dismissively.
"Yes, ma'am."
____ turned towards the doors, waving a quick goodbye to Richard and returning her attention to the phone.
"Ben? Yeah, all good to go. I can be back in an hour."
By the time ____ made it back to Washington, the sun had started sinking toward the horizon.
Golden light stretched across the parking lot behind the building, bright enough to force her into a squint the moment she stepped out of her car, momentarily blinded by the sun. She slung her bag over one shoulder and started toward one of the side entrances, the glaring light directly in her eyes.
Perfect.
____ raised a hand, attempting to shield her face as she walked.
Unfortunately, this meant she didn't see the approaching figure until she walked directly into him, sending her phone and bag flying.
"Shit! Fuck, I am so sorry," she blurted.
"Apologies, I wasn't—"
Both voices stopped simultaneously as they recognized each other's sound.
"…Wait, Kent?"
"____?" Kent questioned at the same time, sounding pleasantly surprised.
She blinked against the sunlight.
Sure enough, Kent stood in front of her. His suit jacket was slung over one arm, tie loosened slightly from what had clearly been a long day. For a moment, all she could think about was how good he looked.
"I was under the impression that you would be in Baltimore with the Vice President for her Coast Guard appearance," he said, already reaching down to collect the things she'd dropped.
"Shit, sorry for walking into you," she crouched alongside him, gathering scattered papers. "Yeah, I was supposed to be, but Ben called me back to help work over the president's speech for—"
"Ah, the speech," he interrupted, squinting against the light. "I'm on my way to assist with the same thing."
He handed ____ her phone back, which she took gratefully, but didn't move to return her bag. Instead, he shrugged the strap over his own shoulder, gesturing toward the nearby entrance. "Shall we?"
____ gave him an inquisitive look, but said nothing. Kent simply smiled in return, gesturing again. She followed his lead this time, waving her security pass as they entered the building side by side.
Within the building, finally away from the blinding light, she gave Kent another curious look as they walked through the building.
"So, are you stealing my bag?"
"I'm carrying your bag," he replied simply, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
____ beamed in response, unable to disguise her feelings toward the gesture.
"…Thanks," she said after a long pause, knowing better than to ask anything further.
They joked about Jonah's dismissal as they walked, Kent making a comment that left ____ in a fit of giggles that left a group of passing interns staring in their direction.
The pair ignored them completely.
Kent didn't return her purse until the duo had made it to the office where Ben and his team were working, waiting instead until ____ had seated herself in an empty chair before handing her the bag.
____ looked up, hoping her smile wasn't noticeably giddy.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, before casually seating himself in the empty chair beside her.
To ____'s luck, none of the other staffers in the room gave too much care to their actions.
Ben, however, absolutely noticed.
The President's Chief of Staff's head whipped up from his stack of speech drafts, eyes moving from ____, to Kent, to the exchange of the purse as they both sat.
He had a strange look on his face at the sight, something halfway between confusion and amusement, but he seemed to decide against saying anything. Instead, he dropped a thick speech packet onto the table.
"Alright," Ben sighed. "Let's get to work."
A little over an hour later, the group had managed to assemble what felt like a reasonable speech for a man who appeared to possess equal amounts of a conscience and a pulse.
As the meeting finally broke apart, staffers drifted out one by one, eager to escape before having another task forced on them. ____ remained where she was, scrolling through the steady stream of messages that had collected on her phone.
Amy had texted to say they'd just boarded the Coast Guard's boat. Dan had sent three increasingly dramatic messages detailing the various ways he hoped she would suffer for getting to stay on land while he was trapped on a boat with Selina. Mike had sent a selfie from his honeymoon. He sat comfortably in his basement beside Wendy and the kids, looking exceptionally pleased to not be at work.
____ smiled, replying to each message in her inbox.
The room grew quieter around her. Chairs scraped, a door clicked somewhere behind her, yet she barely noticed.
Only when a ceramic mug appeared on the table in front of her did she finally look up. Kent was setting a cup of coffee beside her.
____ blinked, eyes widening as she turned to look at the older man.
"Thank you," she said softly, when he didn't seem to have anything to say.
"Any time," he replied, matching her smile.
As he returned to gathering his notes, ____ couldn't stop herself from staring.
It was such a casual gesture. Yet somehow, the casual nature made it worse.
The room was nearly now, save for the two of them. The fluorescent lights buzzed quietly overhead. And in the silence of the room, at the warmth in Kent's eyes, the small gesture that felt oh-so domestic to ____, she felt the blood drain from her face.
Oh.
Uh oh.
This wasn't a crush. It wasn't admiration or infatuation or some harmless little office fantasy.
She was in love with him, wasn't she. That's what this was.
The acceptance of a thought she'd been avoiding for too long now wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't frightening, either, to her own surprise.
It felt… warm. Familiar. Not quite comfortable, but it didn't fill her with the dread she'd felt upon realizing she was attracted to him in the first place.
This time, it didn't feel as sudden. She almost smiled. Almost grimaced. This had been with her for a long time. She just hadn't been ready to accept it.
Apparently, her outward reaction wasn't quite as subtle as she'd hoped. Kent looked up immediately, brow furrowing.
"Miss ____?"
Before she could stop him, he reached forward, brushing the back of his hand gently against her forehead.
"You just paled considerably," he squinted, analyzing her face. "Are you unwell?"
____ shook herself back to reality, smiling through the feeling.
"Yep, totally fine," she replied with a nod. Kent didn't look convinced.
"Just had a moment of panic that we forgot to spell-check the speech."
He chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "That would be unfortunate."
"Exactly."
She stood before she could embarrass herself any further, sliding her phone into her pocket and grabbing her bag. "So what's next for you?"
Kent stepped aside to give her room.
"My Dream Metric projections require recalibration after today's developments. I'll likely spend the remainder of the evening with my team."
"Fun."
"Indeed. And you?"
"Oh, you know," she shrugged. "Emails to answer. Interviews to decline. The usual."
Kent's eyes crinkled as he smiled.
"An enviable workload."
"Living the dream."
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Kent nodded.
"Goodnight, Miss ____."
"Goodnight, Kent."
She forced herself to leave before she could linger any longer.
The walk back across the White House complex felt strange. Surreal, almost. The word kept circling her mind.
Love.
She hadn't been in love with someone in a long time. There had been attraction, sure. She had her share of flings, one night stands, whatever casual connections people in D.C. could manage.
This wasn't something she had budgeted for, mentally.
By the time she reached the EEOB, the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the hallways bathed in soft golden shadows and artificial light.
The office was quieter than usual. Most of the team was still in Baltimore. Only a handful of staffers remained scattered throughout the floor.
____ dropped into her chair and offered Sue a tired smile.
"Busy night?"
"No busier than usual." As usual, Sue's response contained exactly one sentence.
____ chuckled softly.
For a while, she answered emails and reviewed schedules. A brief productive stretch, distracting her from the weariness of a long day. As the evening fell into night, her focus shifted from the glowing screen to the woman sitting across the room.
____ frowned.
She liked Sue. They may not be the closest of friends, but who was in this office? Especially with Sue. They did get along, at the very least, which was more than could be said about some of the other staffers.
Sue was practical. Intelligent. Efficient. Frankly, she was one of the most competent people in the administration.
Precisely the kind of woman that Kent would appreciate.
He clearly respected her. Probably admired her. Could easily—
____ winced, shaking her head once as if to banish the thought as she stood from her desk so abruptly that her chair rolled backward.
"Gonna go for a walk," she muttered.
Sue barely glanced up.
—
The corridor outside was nearly deserted. As close as it could get to silent, probably.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she wandered aimlessly through the building. Usually, she appreciated the quiet moments. Tonight it left far too much room for thinking.
Kent and Sue. Sue and Kent. Could there really be something going on there?
The thoughts chased each other through her head. Had she somehow managed to fall in love with someone who was already halfway to falling for somebody else?
Rounding the corner of a hallway, ____'s musing was interrupted by a visibly distressed Ben rushing up to her.
"____!"
She jumped, not expecting him. "Jesus christ, Ben."
Ben dragged both hands through his thinning hair, ignoring her startled expression.
"Goddammit, the president shit the bed."
"What? What's—" she started, only to be interrupted halfway through.
"He went off-script, he completely ignored what we wrote," Ben griped. "He just announced that he's pro-life."
____ blinked, astounded.
"He fucking what? Shit, we are so fucked."
"Yeah, no shit," Ben pointed a finger at her. "We are monumentally fucked. You need to get your boss on the phone NOW. Every reporter in America is gonna be trying to figure out whether the administration just changed its position on abortion."
____ bit the inside of her cheek, grimacing. "Fuck me. Yeah. Yeah, okay."
The older man exhaled sharply. "I need you to get Selina back here as soon as possible. I have to deal with the fallout on this end."
Already moving, ____ cursed, turned back toward the Veep's offices. She pulled out her phone and dialed Amy, not waiting for the other woman to greet her before speaking.
"Amy. We are SO fucked."
"Hello? What?"
"POTUS just announced he's pro-life."
"…He did fucking what?"
"Yup."
A string of profanity exploded through the speaker.
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," ____ winced. "Fuck the boat, you've gotta get Selina back to D.C. right now. We need to get ahead of this before everybody else does."
Amy didn't argue. She cursed again, then the line went dead.
As ____ hurried back toward the office, she caught sight of a figure exiting their main entrance.
Kent.
She almost paused. Almost considered why he might be alone with Sue in an empty office at night.
Not now.
Absolutely not now.
She forced her attention away before the thought could progress.
—
Phones were already ringing the moment ____ pushed through the office door.
Call after call, text after text. One hand stayed glued to the receiver while the other flew across her keyboard or scribbled frantic notes onto legal pads already overflowing with crossed out schedules.
Meetings were arranged. Trimesters were researched. Calendars were shuffled, reshuffled, then abandoned altogether for new ones.
Somewhere around 11:30, Kent quietly joined her and Sue at the easel where they had covered an entire flip chart with timelines, pressure groups, and every possible position Selina could take.
Kent studied the page for several long seconds, before finally complimenting Sue's thoroughness.
____ clenched her jaw.
She forced herself not to dwell on it, lowering her head to circle another meeting time on the schedule instead. Now was not the time for jealousy.
It was a little past midnight when Selina finally came storming into the office, trailed by the usual entourage.
Sue stepped forward before the yelling could begin, directing Selina to the meeting schedule she and ____ had managed to work out.
"Okay, ma'am, you have the AMA/ACOG in the West Wing, 1:30 a.m." Sue instructed, nodding when ____ passed Selina a clipboard that contained the same information.
"Planned Parenthood at 2:30 a.m. in the EEOB to avoid a clash."
"Unflabby precision. Excellent," Kent commented, his approving gaze fixed on Sue.
____ exhaled a little too sharply, refusing to move her eyes from their fixed position on the board. She didn't want a visual to go with his words. Sue, on the other hand, acknowledged the compliment with no more than a glance, looking somewhere between mildly pleased and completely indifferent.
For a moment, ____'s mind flicked to the flask of liquor she knew Ben kept in his desk. She briefly considered slipping away from the chaos for long enough to grab it, before shaking away the thought entirely.
Selina, entirely unaware of anything outside of the main issue of the night, rubbed at her temples.
"Okay, how about this... A woman has autonomy over her own body. But the rights of an unborn ch..." She grimaced, trailing off. "Uh, I thought I had it there. Maybe I should just say, "get the government out of my fuckin' snatch", you know?"
Ben seemed amused by the statement, nodding in Selina's direction. It was the closest he'd come to smiling all night.
"How many pressure groups do we have in all, Sue?" Selina questioned, head in her hands.
____ passed her own notepad over to Sue, who consulted the information. "Pro-life, 45 ma'am. Pro-choice, about the same."
Selina groaned loudly. "Is there a 'pro-I don't give a shit' lobby?"
"Yeah. You're looking at him. I got posters, buttons... not really, 'cause I don't give a shit," Ben quipped, raising his hand.
____ snorted, abandoning her post at the front of the room to flop down in the chair beside him.
Conversation resumed around the room.
As Selina continued on, ____'s attention drifted to Kent and Sue once again. He had positioned himself right next to her at the front of the room, staring with a look of admiration that flooded ____ with a feeling she couldn't quite put a word to, but definitely didn't enjoy.
The team continued to discuss options, but she couldn't bring herself to listen.
Selina's voice. Amy's voice. Selina's voice again. They all blended together into a whirlwind of sound. It was only Kent, finally speaking up, who managed to cut through the haze.
"All right, I'll start polling," he turned to Sue on his way out of the office. "Nice dress."
Sue didn't even look up. "It's a skirt and top."
Kent nodded once, calling out an "even better" before exiting.
____ stiffened in her seat, suddenly feeling somewhere between about to pass out or about to throw up.
He liked Sue.
She clamped her jaw shut tight, stifling the expletives that nearly fell from her lips.
It appeared that she had, in fact, managed to fall in love with someone who had feelings for somebody else.
Around her, the discussion continued uninterrupted. As Dan pointed at numbers on the chart, Gary started laying out a line of fruit on a nearby table. Selina and Ben continued arguing.
Nobody seemed to notice the dread emanating from ____ in front of them.
Nobody, except Amy.
____'s heard pounded rapidly in her chest, momentarily drowning out the discussion surrounding her. She dug her nails into her thigh, thinking briefly of Ben's stash of drinks once again as she tried to drag herself back to the real crisis she was meant to be assisting with.
____ shook her head, willing the sudden dread away, only to find Amy staring directly at her from across the room.
She shot ____ a look, who responded with a curt shake of her head. Amy didn't press, but the look on her face told ____ that this wasn't being forgotten.
In the background, she heard Gary explaining his line of fruit, finally snapping back into the real world.
"…It's the size of the baby in different stages during pregnancy."
"It would take a brain about this size to think that's this shit's useful."
Gary looked wounded.
"This is not helpful at all. And you need to stop calling these things babies."
"…Ma'am, I think it's gonna have to come down to trimester. Not fruit, Gary," ____ finally added, her voice sounding deceptively confident in the moment.
The conversation continued.
"...Holy shit." Amy was staring down at her phone. "Maddox is about to issue a statement in five."
Selina scoffed.
"At 1:00 in the morning? What's his statement gonna be? "I have to go to the bathroom"?"
____ pinched the bridge of her nose.
The room listened in collective disbelief as Amy and Mike read out the Maddox release.
"Science may give us the map, but we are lost without morality's compass. The right to free speech includes the right to free thought. I can't in all conscience politicize this as an issue."
The entire room collectively scoffed, everyone voicing their disdain at the lack of anything in the announcement.
"So now we know he's running for president," Selina grumbled. "That stupid bastard."
Dan stepped forward.
"Ma'am."
____ frowned sympathetically. He looked as awful as she felt.
"…Maddox said nothing, but at least he said something. We've literally said nothing," he gestured wildly toward the board covered in notes.
"Meanwhile, that shit shovel-faced fuck Jonah is telling people you're feeling out options. We need to pick a number."
____ raised her eyebrows at his elevated tone. Tensions were running high, but it was rare for anyone to blow up at Selina in such a way.
Selina started to respond, which seemed to be Dan's tipping point. He exploded.
"I was clear. I was clear! We just need to pick a fucking number, any fucking number. Give that fucking number to the fucking press, and go to fucking bed! How much more clarity do you need? You want to put it on a T-shirt? Come on!"
The room froze. Every set of eyes dropped to the floor, a collective understanding that even looking at Selina right now would end badly.
Selina stepped towards Dan, the slow tap of her shoes against the floor the only noise in the otherwise silent room.
Sue let out a low whistle.
____ looked up, staring at Dan in horror. Silently, she mouthed, What the fuck?
He stared back, eyes wide in a silent plea for help.
Suddenly nervous, Dan backtracked immediately, stuttering out an apology while staring very pointedly at the floor.
Eventually, Selina spoke. Her voice was dripping with venom.
"I accept your apology," she said evenly, "while retaining the right to fire the fuck out of you. Shall I print that up on a T-shirt that I could give to you?"
Dan shut his eyes, visibly torn between rage and regret.
"This whole thing has got me on edge. I was puking my brains out on that boat for hours. Jonah's got me absolutely homicidal. I'm sorry."
"Uh huh." Selina looked unconvinced.
"You need to apologize," Gary added, entirely unhelpfully.
Selina turned her attention to him, irritated, to say that that Dan did apologize.
Gary, apparently, wasn't pleased.
"You need it in writing," he whispered, which seemed to confuse even Selina.
Ignoring the other man, Dan took a breath and tried again.
"Look, I love abortion, okay? I am an abortionado. But I would go pro-life in a fetal fucking heartbeat if it meant winning."
____ grimaced. She wanted Selina to win, sure, but that was one value she wasn't eager to abandon just to win over some of the public. Selina looked equally appalled, an air of disgust falling over her as she responded.
"You're suggesting that you would like me to be a hypocrite like Maddox?"
Dan nodded, earning him a disappointed sigh from Selina.
"Okay, so you need to go home."
Dan lowered his gaze, but left without another word.
Amy, seeming somewhat amused, stepped forward. "Moving on... and Dan may be quite soon... someone needs to go get Cardinal Branzini."
Somehow, Selina looked even more exhausted.
"Oh, my God. The Catholics next."
As if summoned by name, Dan reappeared in the doorframe alongside the very man they had been discussing.
"Madam Vice President? Cardinal Branzini."
Immediately, Selina plastered on a smile, greeting the man while stepping in front of their planning board at the same time.
Mike frantically moved to erase the board, desperately trying to erase every word that the man might find offensive before he took the time to read them. Selina waved him off, shooting him a look, before leading the Cardinal out of the room for their meeting.
The moment the team was alone in the office, Amy started delegating.
Dan was send home, Ben following soon after.
Gary was sent to get the woman from planned parenthood, while Mike was sent to get the pro-life spokesperson.
Finally, Sue was instructed to help Kent finish his polling.
____ stiffened, but Sue didn't seem all too pleased with the assignment either.
"Okay, but if he touches my hair, I'm calling the police," she muttered as she exited the room. Gary followed her moments later, all-too excited to have a job that didn't involve the Leviathan.
Within seconds, the room was nearly empty.
Just ____, alone with Amy. She stood, figuring she'd go help Mike, only for Amy to step directly in her path.
"No."
"What?"
"No." Amy folded her arms.
_____ blinked, raising an eyebrow. She tried to sidestep again, but Amy blocked her once more.
"Mike. I was gonna…"
"Okay, stop." Amy put a hand out, rounding on her the second time. "What the fuck is with you? You've been so goddamn weird lately, and now you look as bad as Dan did on that stupid boat."
She scoffed, staring at ____. "Jesus, you're not pregnant, are you?"
The concept felt so ironic after tonight that ____ almost laughed. Instead, the adrenaline from Dan's outburst finally gave out. Her shoulders sagged, face falling as she looked at her friend with complete and utter defeat.
Amy, famously bad with emotions, looked horrified at the sudden pain painted across the other woman's face.
"God, no, I'm not pregnant." ____'s voice came out more bitter than she'd planned. "No, it's…" She sighed, dropping into the chair at her desk, and buried her face in both hands with a groan. "Amy, it's so bad. It's so fucked."
She looked up. "…I think I have feelings for Kent."
Amy's jaw dropped, eyebrows shooting up. "Shut the fuck up."
Another long pause.
"…Kent Davison?"
____ nodded once.
Amy's eyes grew comically wide. "You're telling me you want to fuck Kent?" Her astonished voice might have made ____ laugh under different circumstances.
She groaned, shaking her head. "No. Well, yes, obviously, but… shit. It's worse than that."
With a sigh, ____ dragged her fingers through her hair and tugged slightly. Amy waited in silence.
"…I don't just want to fuck him. I wanna— I wanna fold laundry with him. Get groceries together. Make dinner while he does the dishes, that kind of shit."
Amy physically recoiled. "Oh god."
She spun in a tight circle, raking a hand through her own hair. "____, you've gotta be fucking with me."
____ looked up, the despair in her eyes unmistakable. She laughed bitterly, unable to respond with more substance.
Amy looked genuinely horrified. ____ probably could have confessed to murder and been met with less distress.
"You want to be domestic with him?"
"…Apparently."
Amy dropped onto the edge of the desk, shaking her head. "____. We do not have time for this right now."
____ choked out a humorless laugh, tossing her head in agreement. "You think I don't know that? That's all I've been telling myself for months."
She looked down at her hands. "I just… It doesn't matter anyways. He's got some fucking thing going with Sue, I don't know."
Amy made a noise, drumming her fingers on the edge of the desk. They fell silent—____ staring at the table while Amy seemed to speedrun a number of conflicting emotions.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Amy snorted. Her lips twitched into a half-smile.
"…So, Kent, huh. That's what you're into?"
Despite everything, ____ couldn't stop herself from smiling back. Chuckling, she shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Amy made a face, then an exaggerated gagging noise.
____ laughed properly at that, pointing across the desk. "Hey, you can't say shit, you're obsessed with Dan of all people."
Amy raised an eyebrow, throwing a hand to her chest in mock offense.
"That is not the same."
____ laughed, making a face in return.
"Maybe you should just fuck him," Amy offered. "Get it out of your system, you know?"
Giggling, ____ cocked her head. "God, you think I don't want to? I dunno, I feel like he wouldn't be into that kind of thing, even without Sue in the picture."
"I don't know, ____, he does stare at you a lot. Maybe he's thinking abou—" Amy stopped with an exaggerated shudder. "I don't ever wanna picture that again. He's so fucking old, ____."
____ wheezed at Amy's dramatics, but the statement settled a little stronger in the back of her mind.
Does he really stare?"
Another silence fell, but it didn't feel quite as intense. Eventually, Amy sighed, meeting ____'s eye once more.
"…At least it's not Jonah," she finally said.
____ grinned, choosing to take this as Amy's acceptance of the situation.
"At least it's not Jonah," she echoed.
Unsurprisingly, the peace wasn't long-lasting.
Selina's meetings overlapped. Pro-choice was forced to mingle (unhappily) with pro-life. It was just past 4:00am when the chaos finally seemed to settle, leaving the team, running on fumes and cheap coffee, to deal with Danny Chung's incoming press release.
Mike had come running in, proudly waving the statement that he had procured ten minutes early. This, of course, just resulted in further disagreements throughout the team.
Within seconds, everyone was arguing again.
Suggestions were thrown out into the air. Pick a later week count than Chung, and be the most liberal. Choose the same as Chung, and be labeled a copycat. ____ offered her own thoughts where she could, though they disappeared into the noise almost immediately.
When Kent and Sue finally returned from polling, she barely looked up.
To her own surprise, ____ hardly felt anything. Whether it was physical exhaustion or something deeper, she couldn't say. Whatever the reason, she found herself profoundly grateful for it.
Instead, her attention settled somewhere equally unproductive.
Kent had abandoned his suit jacket hours ago. His tie had loosened, just slightly, and the sleeves of his white button-down were rolled neatly to his forearms. His hair, normally so carefully arranged, had been slightly tussled.
He looked tired.
He also looked ridiculously handsome.
Too exhausted to pretend otherwise, ____ rested her chin in her palm and watched him openly from across the room.
God, he was an attractive man. The kind of attractive that made it almost unbearable to know that he was interested in another woman. And for the first time that night, Amy's advice resurfaced in her head.
Just sleep with him. Get it out of your system.
She already knew she wasn't going to stop loving him by pretending the feelings didn't exist. She'd spent months trying exactly that, although she wasn't quite aware of the severity of the situation then.
But Amy's alternative... that sounded almost manageable. If she couldn't have his heart, wasn't one night better than nothing? The thought sent a flutter through her stomach that had nothing to do with caffeine.
____ absently wound a strand of hair around her finger before catching herself.
Jesus christ.
Amy was right about one thing. ____ really, desperately wanted to fuck him.
"Okay, Mike, you draft me a new version of my existing position, okay?" Selina instructed, waving toward the copy of her book that ____ was holding.
Suddenly hopeful that the night from hell might be coming to a close, she sat forward with a burst of energy and passed the book across to Mike.
"No, ____, you go with him. Try and pretty it up, y'know?" Selina waved her hand in their direction. ____ swallowed a yawn, but didn't argue, pushing herself up from her desk to follow Mike toward his office.
A minute later, Mike flopped rather unceremoniously into his chair, ____ following suit on the couch opposite the desk.
"So, is this how you pictured yourself spending your honeymoon?" She joked, reaching for her laptop.
"You know what, it actually is," he replied casually, pulling up a document on his own device. "Realistically, when have we ever not had a crisis during a time off?"
____ hummed in agreement.
"This," Mike muttered, rubbing at his burning eyes as he flipped open their dog-eared copy of Selina's book, "is apparently the only thing she's ever written about abortion."
____ leaned closer, staring at the passage. It was barely two sentences, somehow managing to endorse abortion rights while remaining just ambiguous enough to avoid alienating conservative voters.
____ pinched the bridge of her nose. "How does someone write three hundred pages and still manage to say absolutely nothing?"
Mike shrugged, making a noise in response.
By the time they finished the final round of edits, the darkness outside had softened into deep navy blue.
____ read the final version one last time, eyes dragging wearily along each sentence.
"...Yeah."
Mike looked up from across the desk.
"Yeah?"
"...It's bullshit."
"It is."
"But it works."
Mike leaned back in his chair with a groan.
"A job well done," he declared unenthusiastically before hitting 'send' on the document.
____ snorted. "You're really overselling it."
"The American people deserve nothing less."
They shared one last exhausted laugh before pushing themselves to their feet.
"I think I'm finally going home," Mike told her, shrugging into his jacket.
____ grunted as she stood, feelings joints click as she stretched. "Yeah, get home to your wife. Hopefully the rest of your honeymoon won't just be more of this."
He gave her a lazy salute before disappearing toward the elevators. ____ watched him disappear around the corner before collecting her own belongings and wandering out into the bullpen.
The office had been left a mess of empty mugs and scattered papers, and for a brief, optimistic second she considered cleaning before a yawn knocked the idea from her mind.
Instead, she started walking.
It was too early for anyone to actually need her again, but too late to justify driving all the way home just to turn around and come back.
So instead, she wandered.
Glancing in the general direction of the West Wing, she briefly considered texting Ben. Asking if she could crash on the couch in his office for an hour or so. Just until Selina returned to do the morning shows.
She imagined waking him with a text, and the idea went down the toilet instantly. Disturbing the chronically exhausted man after a night like this just felt cruel.
Her feet carried her aimlessly through the scarcely populated building. The building was already a labyrinth on a good day, so through the haze of a sleepless night, it felt like something out of a dream. ____ turned corners without thinking, trailed up and down staircases, until eventually she found herself in one of the kitchenettes near the Veep's offices.
Immediately, her attention landed on the coffee machine waiting silently on the counter.
Perfect.
____ went through the motions on autopilot, filling the reservoir, dropping in a fresh pod, and pushing the button without really thinking about it. As the coffee maker buzzed to life, she rested both forearms on the counter, letting her forehead fall against the cool cabinet above and her eyes drift shut.
Just thirty seconds, she told herself, barely noticing her head dipping lower…
"____?"
Her entire body jerked, startled awake by the familiar voice behind her.
She spun around, blinking rapidly, to find Kent standing in the doorway, looking mildly apologetic for startling her.
A sleepy smile spread across her face anyway.
"...Hey, Kent."
Just as she was, Kent was still dressed in yesterdays suit, though looking more rumpled than before. His tie hung loose around his collar, his sleeves were slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he'd run his hands through it more than once during the night.
Then, her eyes caught on a new addition, and hew jaw nearly dropped.
Kent had donned a pair of glasses.
____'s heart did that stupid, traitorous thing where it seemed to beat somewhere up in her throat rather than in her chest, and suddenly, she was wide awake again.
He looked exhausted.
He looked fantastic.
Kent stepped inside, offering his familiar half-smile as he crossed to the counter opposite her.
"Long night."
She gave a soft laugh.
"Long night."
Silence settled comfortably between them while the coffee brewed. When the machine finally beeped, ____ automatically reached into the cupboard for two mugs.
She shouldn't ask. She knew she shouldn't ask.
The words came out anyway, eyes fixed on the coffee pot as she poured for both of them.
"…Where'd Sue go?"
Kent accepted his mug, fingers brushing lightly against ____'s as he took it.
"I'm not certain, I believe she had some personal matters to attend to. I didn't ask."
He answered the question simply, without any discernible emotion. For reasons she didn't have the energy to unpack, this eased something inside her, and she smiled softly. She leaned back against the counter, cradling her coffee, and let her eyes fall closed again. She heard Kent shift, mirroring her actions.
Are you finished for the night?" he asked after a while.
A tired laugh escaped her.
"Yeah, for like," she checked the clock. "An hour and a half."
"Enviable", he replied simply.
She smiled into her coffee. "I thought about grabbing a nap in my car, but it feels like too much work to go down there right now. 'M probably just gonna go back to the office, try to get ahead on some work."
For several quiet seconds, Kent simply watched the first strip of sunrise stretch between the buildings outside.
"Would you care for some company?"
Her heart fluttered all over again.
"Yeah, that'd be nice."
The walk back to the vice president's offices was quiet.
Normally one of them would have found something ridiculous to discuss, (usually related to Jonah,) but conversation required energy neither of them had left.
The building had settled into that strange hour around sunrise when everyone still awake looked vaguely haunted.
A lone janitor nodded as they passed. ____ nodded solemnly back.
The bullpen was still empty when they arrived, the desks just as cluttered as the team had left them. Ignoring the mess once again, ____ set her mug down on a side table and collapsed onto the couch Ben had occupied earlier that night.
She'd expected Kent to take the armchair. Maybe even a desk, if he was feeling motivated enough to work.
Instead, the cushion beside her dipped as the man settled in beside her on the same couch.
She looked over in surprise, but he didn't seem to notice, taking another sip of his coffee instead.
They talked. Quiet, aimless conversation about nothing, really. Jonah. Ben's ginormous mug. Statistics. Whether or not various senators really had had affairs. As time went on, ____'s responses gradually became slower. Her blinks lingered longer. Eventually, just staying upright felt like a battle she was losing.
Kent was midway through explaining how Roger Furlong had somehow managed to keep his assistant around despite his constant abuse of the man when her body finally surrendered.
____ really was trying to listen. Something about Roger Furlong and his assistant.
She really was trying to listen.
She blinked once.
Twice.
Without realizing she'd moved, her head drifted sideways until it came to rest against Kent's shoulder.
She never felt herself fall asleep.
Kent, apparently, didn't notice himself doing the same. His explanation stopped mid-sentence. Several moments later, his own head lowered until it rested lightly against the top of hers.
The bullpen fell completely silent.
Almost an hour later, footsteps echoed faintly through the hallway.
Ben rounded the corner, enormous mug raised halfway to his lips when he saw them.
He froze in the doorway.
There they were.
____ was curled against Kent's shoulder, one hand still loosely wrapped around her phone. Kent's head rested gently atop hers, fast asleep, glasses slightly crooked, one arm hanging limply at his side.
Ben blinked.
"...Well, I'll be damned."