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“I’m going to do it.”
“No you aren’t.”
“Nope I’m definitely going to do it.”
“Samir, please tell Kaya she is strictly forbidden from asking tall, dark, and handsome for his number.”
“Samir, please tell Anja that I got a 98 on my Risks and Resiliences brief and I can do whatever the fuck I want now. I killed God, now I want that man to take me to Heaven.”
“Samir, please tell Kaya — “
“Both of you. Shut the fuck up.”
Claire chuckled into her now cold coffee. This was one of the few big lectures she was in - some number over a hundred - and it made her painfully nostalgic for undergrad. The professor was droning on about the historical origins of bioterrorism — a requirement for her Masters that made her head hurt more than her heart for once. Bioterrorism in the 19th century seems so quaint.
The trio behind her is still muttering amongst themselves, and she hears the distinctive sound of a person hitting their knee painfully against the lecture chairs.
“Fuck, ow — Look what you’ve done now — “
“What I did? You were the one that — “
“Shut up guys, he’s gotten closer.”
That quieted them, overly eager to get a better look at this mysterious man that was so much more worth their while than their lecture.
“Do you think his hair is as soft as it looks?”
“I think you’re as dumb as you look. He’s definitely too old for you and way out of your league.”
“He’s in his early thirties at the oldest, calm down. He is out of your league though, Kaya.”
“Fuck you.”
Having heard enough, Claire glanced out the windows that lined the lecture hall to satiate her curiosity. What random lobbyist had managed to disrupt the last ten minutes of lecture for her?
Ah.
It was Leon. Of course it was. Claire smiled. He couldn’t even pick her up from class without turning heads.
He was wearing the brown winter jacket she gave him, left open at the front to give a glimpse of his suit, the view partially blocked by the band of his messenger bag. He was typing away on his phone with one hand, holding a cup of coffee in the other. The brisk weather gave him a windswept look, ash blonde hair artfully tousled. Of course he looked good. Of course this girl that was barely out of her teens had eyes for him.
Claire couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up within her, but she did manage it to stifle it - but not well enough that it didn’t attract the attention of the chatty kids behind her.
“See — even she’s laughing at you — “
“Shut up, Anja. You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
Claire was surprised to be addressed, but it was rare she interacted with the other students. She just didn’t have the time.
“We’ve got Humanitarian Logistics together,” the girl, Kaya, continued, “and you’re always giving Professor Herman shit. Some people actually have guts,” she finished, shooting a dirty look at her friend who merely sighed.
Claire smiled and glanced quickly at the professor before responding. She, being who she was, was colleagues and friends with a good portion of the department, and she also really didn’t need any more enemies. Especially not academics. Of course, the professor was too buried in his lecture notes to give a shit. Also, there were 100 other students in the lecture hall. Why not interact with some other students for once? Claire looked back at the group behind her.
“What is actually gutsy is you assuming either of us will have time to date with Herman’s final coming up.”
Samir laughed, and Anja nodded approvingly. But Kaya’s eyes glinted and she grinned.
“But that’s a yes isn’t it? If you had the time, you would. Anyway, he looks like he’s a Hill staffer, I’d only be fucking over my career of he’s on one of the bioterror committees.”
“Oh god — you think he looks like he works on the Hill?” Claire choked, torn between humor and horror.
“Suit, messenger bag, and the aura of mystery screams like Intel or Judiciary.”
At least those two aren’t that far off, Claire’s mused to herself, he does collect intelligence and enforced the law for one day 15 years ago. So only off by like, a lot, instead of completely wrong.
But it was Anja that got the closest - “He’s definitely White House staff. The coffee he’s holding? It’s from Swings, which is like right across from the Executive Office building. You don’t want to fuck with White House staffers, Kaya. You know the bullshit that Jessica went through.”
“Not as much as he would put you through,” Claire joked, unable to help herself from jerking her head at Leon with a grin on her face.
“Yeah? What makes you think that?”
“Well it took him a decade to ask me out. And another five years to propose.”
Kaya paled. Anja clapped a hand over her mouth. Samir took a very long drink of water and pretended to actually take notes on the lecture.
Kaya spoke first. If the words that stumbled out of her mouth could be described as such.
“Are you really — is he actually? You two are — ?”
“Yeah,” Claire laughed, “but don’t stress about it.”
Kaya squawked out an apology that Claire waved off, smile never leaving her face.
“You were right about the White House,” she directed at Anja, who was collecting her wits along with her composure, “Nice catch with the coffee. But the Hill comment is going to kill him, I don’t think he’ll ever recover from it.”
That got a laugh out of the three of them, more at ease now that it seemed she hadn’t been offended.
Anja narrowed her eyes. “How long has he being working at the White House? No way it’s been since the election, you would’ve broken up with him by now.”
“Luckily, or unluckily, he’s actually not a staffer. Still terrible hours though.”
Kaya interjected then — “But did you ask him out? Were you the one that asked him?”
“Pretty sure I hit on him five minutes after meeting him. Which says a lot, given the circumstances at the time. But he made the first move.”
Kaya nodded approvingly.
“So I was right then.”
“You were.”
Kaya stuck out her hand - “Kaya Williams. It’s nice to meet you.”
Claire laughed and accepted the handshake, pleasantly surprised by the firm grip of it.
“Claire.”
“Well, Claire, how would you like to join a study group? I promise to not hit on your man.”
“Hey, handsome.”
Leon’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, lips curling upwards into a smile.
“Fight any academics today?”
She gratefully accepted a kiss to the cheek and the warm cup of coffee with a pleased hum.
“Nope, only a bunch of coeds trying to make a move on my fiancé.”
Leon blinked in surprise before chuckling, running a hand through his hair. 15 years earlier his cheeks would be tinged pink with embarrassment, but now they’re just red with cold. He looks amused though, and Claire falls just a little bit more in love with the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes.
“And here I was, worrying about some youthful graduate student seducing you with his fellowship at Transparency International.”
“No, apparently my taste is Intelligence Committee Staffer.”
Leon grimaced, “This is why I should never wear a suit. Or a tie.”
“You should definitely show up to briefings at the White House in the leather jacket. Bring it back, hotshot.”
“I think about I’m about a decade too old for that now.”
“Yeah, you’re practically geriatric.”
“I’m one year older than you.”
“And oh what a difference a year makes.” She murmured as she pressed a kiss to his lips. He tugged her forward by her jacket, deepening the kiss just slightly before parting.
“The same kids also asked me to join their study group.”
“Do they know I’m your fiancé?”
“Yup.”
“Are they going in for a long con?”
“Could be. But I think I can handle them.”