Work Text:
It was raining.
Madam President thought nothing much of the heavy skies; she had work to do regardless, but the sound of water striving to take the building down, drop by drop, hammering against the windows to break in— it put her on edge somehow.
She sighed. These were childish thoughts. None were trying to break in but flesh and blood, much more real, and it was her duty to keep these dangers at bay.
She was alone in the hallway, though. Rain softened all sounds, drowning out the sound of the living, shading everything in delicate grays. The white walls were duller, and the candle glow only blunted the air further. This atmosphere was suited for contemplation, not the hurried steps she had to take to lead a country.
...or so she thought.
She made a sharp turn and there she was; sharp silhouette of black and white, all angles and distinct contrasts, out of place in the softness of the morning. One of those she had to stop.
The Judge had taken her glasses off; they hang at her collar while her hands were tucked near her chest, as if barely restrained from clinging to the window pane— because she was intently staring at the sky through the glass, the leaden clouds, and the sky’s groundward blows, with no expression visible on her features.
“Oh, it’s you.” The President startled. The Inversian must have been less deep in thought that she had expected; she didn’t think she had made any noise approaching. “Interesting coincidence,” the Judge added neutrally, and tore her blue eyes from the sky.
“It is?” were the only words Madam President found, and she hated them. Somehow this platitude was not what this atmosphere deserved, but there was nothing she could do but stand there and let the words swim through the heavy air.
“Yes.” The Judge nodded, unhidden eyes unabashedly sweeping the President’s form, “I was looking for a rainbow.”