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It's been a long day, trailing the President to multiple meetings in multiple cities, but Amy and Cash are finally off duty. It’s the first time in a while that they’ve been on shift together, which is probably how Amy finds herself sorting through a set of mahjong tiles on her hotel room coffee table. This, despite telling Cash no less than 20 times that the game requires four players. Apparently she’ll be playing three hands to his one, so that she can make good on her promise to teach him. The man is insufferable when he really decides he wants something.
Amy’s setting up the next round, pushing the last line of tiles together to make a square, when she stops being able to ignore the look Cash is giving her.
“What?” she asks, “why are you looking at me like you want my first born child?”
Cash gives her another meaningful look and seems to reach some internal decision as he leans forward.
“I need to know,” he says, slowly and with emphasis, “if you know.”
“If I know what, dumbass? I know many things. A lot of them confidential.”
“I need to know,” Cash starts again, irritation creeping into his voice, “if you know about Alex.”
And, oh, well yes. Obviously.
Amy has eyes and a brain, so when Alex had asked her to be look out at the Red Room she hadn’t exactly been surprised to hear what sounded like a body being pushed against the wall. She’d taken a glance anyway, just to be sure she wasn’t unintentionally being witness to a murder, but the two of them under the Hamilton painting was about what she’d expected.
And, yes, maybe it had done her gay little heart some good to point the Prince, flustered and adorably embarrassed, in the direction of Alex’s bedroom that night.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Amy answers, with her most charming wink.
“Oh thank fucking god,” Cash says, pulling his first set of tiles. “Because I have been dying to talk to someone. James knows but he's useless and I honestly did not know how much longer I could take this.”
Amy laughs heartily, throwing a tile into the center of the square.
“You are such a gossipy little bitch Cash, I hope you know that.”
“I am, this is a well established fact,” Cash nods sagely. “And as the staff’s resident love guru —”
“gossip”
“— you have no idea how much it’s been killing me not to say anything.”
He glances at his hand quickly before yelling “pong” and making a swipe for one of Amy’s discarded tiles, flipping up a set of circle fives.
“Nice,” Amy concedes. “You’re getting quicker at that.”
She moves on to the first of the three hands she’s playing.
“So, when did you figure it out?” she asks.
“I mean, I’ve had my suspicions since I pulled them all flustered out of the hospital closet in London.” Amy laughs at that, because she’s always been weak for a visual pun. “But uh, definitely since the conference in Paris when Henry didn’t leave Alex’s hotel room that night.”
“Nice,” Amy nods appreciatively.
“You?”
“Oh,” Amy shrugs, “since the dinner in January.”
“Wait, are you fucking kidding me?” Cash all but screams, completely missing his opportunity to steal another tile. “What happened in January?”
“Listen, a lady doesn’t divulge a gentlemen’s secrets, but since Alex isn't a gentlemen... I suppose I can tell you that they definitely made out in the Red Room and for sure did it in Alex’s bedroom that night.”
“Holy shit,” Cash says, an absolutely delighted smile spreading across his face. “The horny little bastards."
Amy nods fondly, and they make it through another turn each before Cash pipes up again.
“You know they did it in the bathroom of an LA bar?”
“They absolutely did not,” Amy says, half incredulous, half impressed.
“They absolutely did.”
“Shit,” Amy says, shaking her head. “They’re going to get us killed aren’t they?”
“Mmm,” Cash agrees. “I do not want to be there when Zahra finds out. She doesn’t know yet, does she?”
“If Zahra knew, we would all know,” Amy says, because she’s not an idiot.
They play a couple more turns before Cash looks up again, a sappy grin on his face.
“But they are kinda fucking cute together, aren’t they?”
“Ya,” Amy agrees, wrinkling her nose. “They’re completely gross and completely adorable. I mean, have you noticed the way Alex will brush his hand against Henry’s when he thinks no one’s watching?”
“Or that stupid face Henry makes when Alex is getting all worked up over something.”
“Or the sappy way Alex will stare across the room at him like the sun shines out of his ass.”
“The literal embodiment of the heart eye emoji.”
“Disgusting, but true.” Amy yells pong now, laying down three of her tiles.
“Dammit,” Cash says, eyeing her suspiciously. “You know, I knew Alex really had it bad when we went for a coffee run and he brought back tea for Henry without being asked. When have you ever known that boy to do anything for anyone without explicit instructions?"
Amy smiles knowingly, "Exactly never."
"That's what I'm saying," Cash says smugly. He takes a pause, fussing with the tiles in front of him. "I just hope they don’t end up too fucking hurt over all of this, y'know? Alex is a little shit, but he’s a good kid. I’ve never seen him this invested in something that isn’t school or politics.”
Amy nods. “Ya, it’s a good look on him.”
“I just feel like it’s gonna end badly, y’know?”
Amy sighs and runs a hand through her hair, because she does know, probably better than Cash ever can.
“I mean, I’m not saying I’m not also worried about them,” Amy says, looking down at her tiles and clearly thinking something over, “but us queers have been making it work for centuries in worse conditions, right? I’ve got hope.”
She gives Cash a meaningful look before flipping over the rest of her hand. “Also, sit wu sucker. I win again! You’re so lucky I haven’t taught you to bet yet.”
“Goddamnit, I was so close Amy, you don’t understand.” Cash tosses the rest of his tiles into the center of the remaining square, helping as Amy starts to mix them on the table. “I hope you’re right though, I hope they make it.”
Amy nods, giving Cash a light punch on the shoulder.
“And in the meantime we’ll stand guard outside their dirty ass hook-ups and pretend we know nothing.”
Cash laughs wildly at that. “They don’t make it easy for us do they?”
“If the fact the whole world doesn’t already know isn’t a testament to our undying work ethic, I don’t know what is.”
“Ya, I’m thinking of adding it to my resume. ‘Protector of clandestine hookups.’ I think it’s a strong selling point.”
“More like, ‘competent guardian of horny little miscreants’.”
They’re both laughing now as they slowly rebuild the square.
“One more round, ok? I can feel a win in my future.”
“Ya, ya, fine, one more round.”