Chapter Text
{ P R O L O G U E }
The music faded out, the last notes of the refrain giving way to the too-bright tenor of a young man.
“Welcome back to WNYU’s morning show with me, your host, Bulldog Brandon! We have a very special guest for our listeners today: we’re being joined by none other than Calvin Benson, oldest son of the current U.S. President and a sophomore here at NYU. Thank you for joining us, Calvin.”
“Thank you for having me,” another voice answered. There was no false brightness in this one. “And please, call me Cal.”
“If you say so, Cal. Let’s get right into it with the question I’m sure everyone asks: what’s it like to know your mom is the President?”
A comfortable laugh. “It’s pretty cool, actually.”
“Bet she never lets you get away with anything though, huh? How many times have you managed to give your protective detail the slip, Cal?” It was asked teasingly.
A pause. “I’ve actually never tried. My mom and I have a great relationship, you know? I can tell her anything, and she’s not as strict as everyone seems to think.”
“You trying to tell me President Benson is one of those ‘cool moms’, Cal?”
Another laugh, brighter. “No, just … she’s normal, I guess. Just a regular mom with a unique title, that’s all.”
“You were in the newspaper recently, Cal, for an altercation you had with a prostitute. Why don’t you tell us a little bit about that? What did your ‘regular mom’ think when she heard about it?”
“It wasn’t an ‘altercation.’ I was walking home from the waffle house on ninety-sixth, heard some shouting, and stepped in to help. That’s all.”
“You stepped in to help,” the host repeated dryly. “A prostitute.”
Cal’s voice was markedly colder now. “Yes.”
An awkward beat, and then: “Rumor is you broke someone’s nose, Cal. Care to explain where the President’s son learned to throw a punch like that?”
“It was just luck, and adrenaline.”
“See, now, I find that hard to believe, Cal. My dad is a twenty-three year veteran of the Marine Corps, and one of the first things he taught me was how to hold my own in a fight. Give it up: who taught you?”
“A family friend,” came the hesitant response.
“One of those ‘President’s Men’ the media is always talking about?”
“What?”
“You know.” A beat. “Wait, you don’t …?” A laugh, and it wasn’t kind. “Come on, Cal, you really trying to tell me you haven’t heard the jokes about ‘all the President’s men’? Our first female president, the country’s most eligible bachelorette, and the men who want to be in her ‘cabinet’?”
“What kind of sexist garbage is that?”
“Come on, Cal, you have to know your mom is a MILF. Thee MILF, in fact.”
“You know what, I’m done.”
“Wait -.”
Static, and then a quick cut to the music.
+++
The carpet was plush and thick under her feet, and her shoes hardly made a sound as the blonde woman next to her ushered her across the room to her seat. It was a huge wingback chair, deep blue, and Kat expected it to be stiff and uncomfortable.
She was surprised when she realized it was neither.
But there wasn’t time to think about her own chair when she couldn't stop staring at the one directly across from her. It was still empty, but Kat’s heart began to race anyway. She knew who that chair was for.
How the fuck did I get here? Kat Tamin had been asking herself that for an entire month.
“Ms. Tamin?” A voice asked from her left.
Kat jumped. The blonde woman was back, and Kat’s nerves were shot to shit so she couldn’t be sure, but she thought her name was Amanda.
“Sorry,” Kat said, and she didn’t know if she was apologizing for being jumpy or for not remembering the woman’s name.
The other woman just smiled. “We’ll be getting started in just a moment. As a reminder, camera and video footage is prohibited. Your notes must be typed or handwritten, or, if approved, can be recorded on a voice-capture only device.”
Kat blinked and waited for her brain to catch up. “Uh, right.” She held up her tablet and keyboard - which had undergone rigorous inspection and testing in preparation for just this moment - and the small digital audio recording device she’d brought.
The blonde - Amanda, her name was Amanda - nodded once and then surprised Kat with a gentle touch to the shoulder.
“I know it’s hard, but you can relax. You’re gonna love her.”
It was so ridiculous that Kat almost laughed in her face. She was about to meet the goddamn President and the head of her PR and publicity campaign - or was it her secretary? Were those different positions? - had just told her to relax.
As-fucking-if.
There was a flurry of activity across the room from where Kat waited, and she automatically sat straighter in her chair. A door in the wall opened - and holy shit, she thought again, I’m in the White House - and two men stepped over the threshold. They were tall and muscular, straight as marble pillars as one stepped to the left and the other stepped to the right to take up silent positions near the door.
Kat stopped breathing the next second, because the President of the United States had just moved into the room. Even if she couldn’t see her, Kat thought she’d know the second she appeared. The air in the room changed: there were people everywhere, but the energy changed the moment the President appeared. She’d brought electricity with her, life and activity and an undeniable presence that was irresistible.
Another man followed the President through the door. He wasn’t as tall as the first two, but he was solid and menacing in a nameless sort of way. He was bald, or his hair was so short it made no difference, but had heavy brows above bright blue eyes, and his gaze swept the room with the intensity of a laser. Even from where she sat Kat could see how close he stood to the woman he was charged with protecting.
The President stopped to have a word with Amanda and a tall man with graying hair. She smiled and reached out to squeeze Amanda’s forearm and then she was sweeping across the room toward her, and Kat’s legs shook as she practically jumped to her feet.
“Madam President,” she said, and her voice might have been shaking but, really, who could blame her?
She was meeting the fucking President.
“You must be Kat Tamin,” the President said with a warm smile, and reached out to shake Kat’s hand.
Don’t make a fool of yourself, Tamin. It was a tall order because President Benson was somehow prettier in person than she was in the media, and she was tall on her own but her heels gave her a few more inches of height, and Kat felt a little like fainting.
“Uh,” Kat mumbled, and wasn’t that just great.
But the President either didn’t notice or was too graceful to comment on Kat’s apparent tongue-tied-ness. She held out a hand to motion for Kat to take a seat while her other hand smoothed her skirt against her legs so that she could take up her position in the chair across from the one Kat had recently vacated.
The bulldozer of a man behind her took up a spot not far behind her chair. He folded his hands together in front of him and stood, quiet and still as a statue.
“So,” the President started, and her smile was all grace and warmth and good things. “My son tells me you have a talk show on the college radio.”
That brought her back to the task at hand. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and Kat couldn’t believe she was here in the first place, but she was certainly not going to waste the time she’d been given.
“I do,” Kat answered, and shifted a little in her chair to get more comfortable. “Before we continue, Madam President, may I have your permission to record our conversation?”
“Of course. And please, call me Olivia.”
Kat blinked. That was it, just a blink, a quick press of her eyelids as she tried to process the gift she’d just been given.
Either her expression was more ridiculous than she knew or the woman had some kind of sixth sense because she laughed a little, and the sound was rich and unexpectedly deep.
“Don’t worry, I get that reaction a lot,” she said reassuringly. “My Chief of Staff keeps reminding me that I’m too informal, but I make it a habit to ignore him on that.”
Kat couldn’t help it: she laughed. The President of the whole damn country had just asked her to call her by her first name and made a joke about ignoring her Chief of Staff, and nothing in her life was going to top this moment.
“I’m sorry,” Kat finally managed to squeak out. “I’m usually more eloquent than this, but I just … I can’t believe I’m here right now.”
She shook her head and busied herself with setting up her voice recorder. It was simple, just the press of a few buttons, and when the light on the screen turned green she knew that the recording had started.
“So, Madam President,” Kat began.
“Olivia,” the other woman corrected her.
Kat took a breath. “Olivia,” she repeated, and cast a quick glance around the room. But no one was looking at them. “Uh, I’m Kat Tamin, and I go to school with your son, Calvin. I had him on as a guest speaker a few weeks ago, and he had some valuable insight to share on ending the national backlog on untested rape kits. Among other things, actually.”
“I heard,” Olivia told her with a nod and a proud smile.
“You did?”
“He was pretty excited to be asked to speak on your show. He called to tell me about it, and of course I couldn’t miss it.”
“I have to say, I’m surprised to hear that.”
“That I speak to my son regularly?”
“No,” and Kat grinned, because she wasn’t surprised at all to know that Cal still called his mom daily. “That you had time to listen to a college radio show.”
Privately, it made Kat wonder if Cal had mentioned the other radio show he’d done, and consequently walked out on. If he had, Olivia gave no indication that she knew about it.
“I didn’t, really, but I make it a point to make time for the things that matter.”
“You certainly have your hands full. The first female President - the first single parent in the Oval Office - raising two sons and changing policy before most of us have even rolled out of bed and had breakfast. You must be exhausted.”
The curtains were open and there was sunlight flooding the room, and Olivia was radiant in her navy blue business suit. But there was something in the way her eyes fell to her lap, just for a second, that Kat thought gave something away. Something she didn’t know how to interpret and couldn’t place, but picked up on just the same.
It was gone the next second, though, and the President was back to her sunny disposition and wide smile.
“I might be, if I weren’t always so busy.”
A door opened quickly behind Kat. The shadow of a man standing behind Olivia tensed and then relaxed, and the change happened so quickly she wondered if she'd imagined it.
Then there was a child cutting across the space between their chairs and Kat blinked as a young boy with a head full of curls launched himself into the president’s arms.
“Mom, Cal brought me a nerf gun!”
“Noah,” Olivia chided, but she was laughing indulgently. “What have I told you about interrupting me? I’m in the middle of an interview.”
“Oh,” the boy said, and turned in his mother’s lap to eye Kat. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Kat replied gently. “I’m Kat.”
“I’m Noah. Are you interviewing my mom?”
“I am.”
“Why?”
Kat laughed as Olivia admonished the boy softly for his question, but she wasn’t angry so Noah ignored her.
“Because she has a lot of interesting things to say,” Kat explained. “Your mom is a very important woman, Noah.”
“I know,” he agreed with startling solemnity. Then, brighter, “She’s the only one who’s allowed to yell at Elliot when he gives me ice cream after bedtime.”
The effect those words had was unexpected: the president’s eyes went wide in surprise and Noah stilled immediately, his mouth falling open as he realized that he’d just given something away that he shouldn’t have.
“Uh oh,” he whispered theatrically, and Kat would have laughed except there was something odd in the president’s expression that stopped her.
Who the hell is Elliot? Kat wondered.
“Noah,” a harried voice called out then.
Kat turned to see a young woman rushing toward them. Her expression was contrite and apologetic, and she held out a hand for Noah to take before she was even close enough to touch him.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman gasped out, and it was clear that she was out of breath and had probably been searching for the president’s youngest son for a minute.
“It’s fine, Lucy,” Olivia reassured her. Her smile was back in place. “Go on, Noah.”
Kat’s mind was whirling too fast to fully process the last few seconds, so she reverted back to her interview questions, but somewhere in the back of her thoughts she kept thinking about the look on the president’s face at the mention of secret ice cream meetings.
“He’s adorable,” Kat offered to release some of the tension that had suddenly taken up residence between them. “Noah is your younger son, right?”
“He is,” Olivia affirmed. “He’s about to turn seven, and he’s a handful.”
“Cal talks about him sometimes,” Kat said, and that was something that was just meant for Olivia to hear.
Olivia tilted her head in contemplation and folded her hands together in her lap. The move would be intimidating in someone else, and Kat had the distinct sense that she was being reevaluated, but there was nothing threatening about it.
“I didn’t realize you were close,” Olivia said.
Kat shrugged and shook her head a little. “We’re not, really. We met by chance. My girlfriend and a friend of ours were being harrassed and Cal stepped in, walked them home. Not a lot of people would have done that, and I guess it stuck out to me.”
“Why do you say that? That not a lot of people would have stepped in.”
“My girlfriend is an outspoken member of the campus LGBTQ+ association, and Lakira is transgender.”
Kat waited, but Olivia’s expression didn't change. There was no shock or revulsion at the revelation that her son hung out with a lesbian and transgender woman, no attempt to suddenly change the direction of the conversation or manipulate the situation. President Benson was just listening. Like she cared what Kat had to say, and that she wasn’t at all surprised to hear about who her son associated with.
“But they were okay? Your friend, and your girlfriend?”
“They were. Cal even went out of his way to check on them the next day. Your son is a good man, Madam President.”
There was a quiet, maternal sort of pride in Olivia’s smile then, and it occurred to Kat that as much as she idolized this woman - as nervous as she'd been to meet her and as many questions as she wanted to ask - she was still just a woman, and a mother. A normal woman with an abnormal amount of responsibility resting on her shoulders.
“Excuse me, Madam President?”
Both women looked up to see Amanda smiling in apology. Kat knew before she’d said anything else that they’d run out of time, and she didn’t know if she should feel regretful about not getting more answers, or grateful for the dose of realism she’d just been handed.
Either way, she’d just met one of her heroes, and that definitely called for a celebratory drink later.
“Your next interview starts in ten minutes,” Amanda informed her. “If you’d like a break, now is the time.”
“Thank you, Amanda.”
Olivia swept gracefully to her feet. Kat was a little slower because she didn’t want to knock her materials off her lap, but she shoved it all under one arm anyway and shook the hand that the president had offered her.
“I’m sorry I don’t have more time,” Olivia said, and actually sounded like she meant it.
“Don’t be,” Kat responded. “I appreciate that you made time for me at all.”
“Tell you what. Cal is here today, why don’t you go with Fin here and track him down, hang around for awhile. Maybe we’ll get another chance to talk later.”
“Really?” Kat was too stunned to say more.
“I have a good feeling about you, Kat. And you know what they say.”
“Uh, I don’t, actually.”
Olivia chuckled. “Always trust your gut.”
One of the Secret Service agents that Kat didn’t notice before had moved into the space behind Kat - he must be Fin, and heard the president say his name - and it felt surreal to thank the president again and then follow the man across the room
Just before they stepped out of the room Kat turned her head back in the direction of the chairs. President Benson was standing next to the chair she was seated in, one elbow braced on the back of it as she rubbed a thumb over her eyebrow. Without the expectation of a stranger around she had allowed her shoulders to slump a little, and she looked tired.
That lone Secret Service agent with the heavy brows and bright eyes was still standing there, but they were closer to each other now, standing alone together in the middle of the room as if they were in a bubble. Kat was too far away to see the man’s mouth move but she thought he must have said something, because the president tossed her hair back over one shoulder and smiled at him.
They passed over the threshold and out of the room then, and Kat Tamin smiled at no one in particular as she moved through the halls of the White House..
I just met the fucking President.
What a day.