Okay, that didn't work. "And you can go back to your room and take a nap." She waited until she saw Dev's head bob before adding firmly, "Right after you finish your physical therapy."
Dev looked up. "Excuse me? What happen to the ‘fuck you' factor?"
Lauren raised an eyebrow and gave Dev's sling a little tug. "It was just trumped by the ‘Lauren factor'. Go figure. Don't make me get tough with you, Devlyn. Southern women are relentless and you'll lose eventually." Gray eyes twinkled.
Dev stared at her for a moment. Lauren was serious, but the words still held a teasing edge. It was something she'd missed sorely the past few of weeks. "I knew somewhere along the line I'd find someone who had the trump card. I always figured it'd be Jane or Emma though." Dev visibly squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I guess I should apologize to Julio for being a royal bitch, huh?" Dev eased her arm into the sling
"It couldn't hurt, Madam President." Way to go, Devlyn. "I'll go tell him you're ready to continue."
"‘Kay. I'm not going anywhere. Umm... thanks." Dev sat stock-still as Lauren walked away. She wanted Lauren to stay, but a bigger part of her didn't want Lauren to see her like this. Weak. Miserable. A disgusted look crossed Dev's face. Most of all, she just wanted this day to be over.
Lauren paused at the doorway, waiting for any reason, any word from Dev that she wanted her to stay. After a few seconds she swallowed hard and opened the door. "The President is ready to continue her therapy, Julio." She smiled at him sympathetically. "Thank you for being so patient."
The man blushed and stared at his sneakers. "No problem, Ms. Strayer. That's my job." He glanced back up. "She's really hurting."
Lauren's brow creased with worry. "I know."
He inclined his head toward the gym. "You coming back?"
"Nah." Lauren pursed her lips before pushing her glasses up higher on her nose. "She doesn't need me." But I wish she did.
* * *
David entered the debriefing room just as the video of the assassination attempt ended on a freeze frame shot of the bloody stage floor. He shook his head. Why did they always stop it at that very second? His temper flared and angry brown eyes flickered around the room, landing on each man and woman before moving on and glaring at their next target.
"How in the hell did that happen!" He pointed at the video image. "Would somebody like to tell me why the President of the United States is currently undergoing physical therapy to heal her three bullet wounds?" David bolted across the floor and slammed his fists hard on the long table where the agents sat. "Well?"
The silence was deafening and not a single agent could meet David's glare. He angrily tugged at his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "Get comfortable, ladies and gentlemen, because no one's leaving this room until I have the answers I want," he boomed.
Several agents flinched.
David took his jacket off and tossed it onto a couch. With quick, angry tugs he rolled up his sleeves. "I want to know how a fifteen-year-old kid got a gun in the first place. How he got it into that high school." David's already red skin tone turned an angry shade of scarlet. "And how he managed to get it and himself in perfect position to kill the President of the United States! God dammit, I want to know why he did it!"
An older man at the end of the table drew in a deep breath and rose to his feet before speaking.
David's jaw worked. "Yes, Agent Rothsberg?"
"It was a hate crime, sir," he began tentatively.
"Speak up!"
"A hate crime, sir." His voice was a little more solid this time. "The suspect tried to shoot the President because she is a woman and a lesbian." The agent pushed a file towards David, sending it sliding down the glossy tabletop.
"He didn't try," David barked, "he did shoot the President. Several times!"
The agent nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. All the information we have is in there." He pointed to the file David was now holding. "That's the latest intelligence."
David picked up the file and thumbed through it. "He very nearly succeeded in killing her." The Chief of Staff continued to chastise as he read. "Which one of you in here wants to have to confess that it was on their watch that the President of the United States got killed? Because if we continue to be this sloppy, that's exactly what's going to happen!"
David yanked an empty chair out from under the table and gracelessly plopped down in it, his nose still buried in the file. "Hell, it's been almost sixty years since Kennedy died. I guess most of those guys are dead now too. Trying to fill their shoes? You all had better hope that the investigation proves that kid got lucky." He closed the file. "Because if I find out any of you were lacking in your sworn duty to protect the President, or that you in some way made the attempt possible..." The rest of the threat remained unspoken, but was crystal clear.
Deep brown eyes traveled to every face in the room. All David saw was sadness, embarrassment and regret, which actually made him feel a little bit better. For now he could believe that the kid had gotten lucky. But this couldn't happen again. Somehow, someway, they would find where they had made their mistake. There might not be a second chance.
"Video rewind," David commanded. "Okay, kiddies, here we go again. We're gonna watch it over and over again until I know where everyone was and what they were doing when our President was struck down. Video start."
Friday, June 4th
Dev groaned as she eased herself back down into the bed and propped her cane against the wall. Her hip still hurt like hell and she missed not being able to run or work out. She wondered if anyone would be surprised when she pulled her sling off and choked several people with it. Probably not, she mused silently, knowing full well she could be a royal bitch when she didn't feel well. But since she'd lost her cool with her physical therapist, she'd tried her best to rein in her frustration. Maybe she'd only choke one person.
She sighed as the warm sun spilled into the room through the tall windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. Devlyn was recovering in the Solarium, which also happened to be her favorite room in residence. Ironically enough, it was in this very same room that President Reagan had recuperated after being shot some 40 years before.
Devlyn's gaze strayed out the window. Well, I'm the first American President of this century that someone hated enough to try and murder. Too bad it was some woman/lesbian hating punk that did it. He doesn't even care about my politics! her ego squawked indignantly.
Liza strode in through the open door and past two Secret Service agents so she could drop a pile of folders onto a table next to Dev. "If you feel up to it, Madam President, you really need to look through these and sign off on them."
Dev snatched up the first folder, happy to be able to wallow in something besides self-pity. "I'd be happy to do that. I'll have them for you by dinnertime."
Liza smiled. Jane had insisted she give Devlyn something to do so she'd stop terrorizing the entire White House staff. As usual, the President's long time secretary knew best.
"Lauren's gone to get the kids. We're going to spend a few minutes with them in here." Or at least I am. I dunno if Lauren will stay. Seems like since I got shot she's almost afraid to be around me. Not that I can blame her. Who wants to walk next to a target? I might as well have a big red bullseye tattooed on my ass. And then I had to go and pry into her family's private affairs. If she wanted to talk to me about her mother she would have. Good going, moron. Fuck. So much for ditching the self-pity.
"That's wonderful news." Liza looked at her watch. Ever since she set up Lauren with Casey, she'd been avoiding the writer like the plague. She'd heard from Emma that Lauren was after her ‘no good Yankee ass.' Liza wasn't quite sure what that meant. But she was pretty sure it was bad. Very bad. But at least Casey was happy. She and Candace Delaney were getting married in the fall!
Liza handed Dev a pen and looked nervously towards the doorway. "Should I have the call from the British Prime Minister transferred up here?" She began edging her way out.
"It's a social call but he may want to discuss the State Dinner coming up in September for His Majesty."
Dev nodded absently. "Sure. I'll probably spend the rest of the afternoon in here. So transfer everything up here that's not classified."
"Yes, Ma'am." Liza turned to leave as the children came barreling in and skidded to halt just before they crashed into their Mom's bed. She scooted around Ashley, purposely avoiding Lauren's evil gray gaze as they passed each other just outside the room. Liza winced when she heard a growl. Gremlin or Lauren? Did it matter?
The children were careful to mind their mother's injuries but still gave her enthusiastic hugs and kisses before settling down with coloring books and crayons. Ashley's Secret Service agent, Amy, joined them on the carpet, leaving Dev and Lauren to talk quietly in the corner.
"I wanted to thank you for taking extra time with them these past few weeks," Dev said quietly, noticing that Lauren had taken a seat in the center of the couch instead of closer to the end and nearer to the bed.
Lauren twisted uncomfortably in her seat. Devlyn had already thanked her for this very thing. Several times.
They'd never discussed her bolting from Dev's hospital room several weeks before, and ever since then things between them had been... she sighed inwardly... strained. Dev was on pins and needles around her; she wasn't doing much better. Their brief conversation during Dev's therapy session two days ago had been the most they'd spoken all week. Silences that were once comfortable now felt uneasy. And at the moment, it was painfully obvious that Devlyn was making small talk to avoid one of those silences. It was equally obvious that it was a strain for the older woman.
Lauren chewed her lip. This was her fault. She glanced apologetically at Dev. "I haven't minded spending the extra time, Devlyn." It was the truth. "The book will be better because of it. And I lo... I mean... your kids are great."
Dev couldn't stop the grin that transformed her face. "Thanks. They're all crazy about you. Except for Christopher, that is."
Lauren leaned forward and frowned. "Really?" Her gaze darted to the tow-headed boy sprawled out on the carpet. She looked back at Dev helplessly as her mind raced for what could have possibly happened that she didn't know about. They always got along great! "But... but..."
"He's not just crazy about you," Dev clarified, "he's madly in love with you and asked me the other day if you were married."
Lauren laughed. "Wow. You had me worried there! Did you tell him I'd be available when he gets legal?"
Like hell you will. Dev smiled. This was going better than she'd hoped. The banter that had been missing over the past few weeks was edging its way back. She hoped. "I most certainly did not. I want grandchildren and by then you'll be-"
"Not that much older than you are now!" Lauren crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.
"Yeah. An old lady!" Dev winked and they both laughed softly.
Dev was determined to keep the conversation going. "From what I can squeeze out of David, he seems to think the book is going great so far. But he keeps threatening to reveal a few really embarrassing stories if I don't behave and do all my therapy." Her face colored when she remembered the last time they were together. "He always was a blackmailer at heart, and if he'd seen how I behaved the other day in the gym he'd have kicked my sorry ass."
Lauren made a face but didn't disagree.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have-"
Dev stopped her with a stern look.
Lauren grinned and ducked her head graciously. "Apology accepted, Devlyn." Her gaze dropped to her lap for a moment before she changed the subject. She looked a little nervous. She wasn't sure how Dev would feel about the personal interviews she wanted. "Speaking of my progress on the book, I... um... I think I've done all the background research I can do from the White House."
Dev's suddenly felt her heart stop and her throat close up tight. So much so, as a matter of fact, that she was having trouble breathing and had to clear her throat and take a drink of her coffee before she could speak again. She wondered briefly if her panic was showing on her face. God she's gonna leave! She wants to move out. Think of something quick! "Ahhhh..." Dev's mind went absolutely blank for all of a horrifying second. "How about a chance to meet my parents!" she blurted out, a little faster and a lot louder than she meant to, but she didn't think her heart could take losing Lauren right now. Maybe in a few weeks when I feel better, but not now. Please, God, not now. I can't lose her, too.
Lauren's brow wrinkled and she stood up and crossed over to the bed. She hesitated for only a moment before sitting on its edge. She wanted to pat Dev's leg or hold her hand. But she didn't. Instead, she trapped her hand under her own leg to keep it from roaming. "What's wrong, Devlyn?" Her concerned voice was soft and warm and made the President want to burst into tears.
"I… I… umm… was just thinking that, after everything that has happened, maybe a vacation was in order. My folks own a beautiful little cabin back in Ohio and we could have a few days off. The kids could see their grandparents and we... I mean, I... uh... well, we could get some rest and peace and quiet if you wanted to go with us. And my folks could be interviewed for the novel." Dev took a chance and let the back of her fingers graze Lauren's leg very lightly. If Lauren was going to leave she wanted to have every possible memory she could get.
At the word ‘Ohio', Ashley excitedly jumped up and ran to Dev's bedside. "Grandma and Grandpa! Can we? Please, mom? That would be wonderful! Can we take Gremlin with us?"
Dev patted her little girl's back. "Yes, sweetheart," she chuckled. "We'll go see them. But we can only take Grem if Lauren goes with us." The President smiled unrepentantly, knowing she was putting Lauren on the spot, but willing to use any advantage she could.
Lauren's lips quirked. "Very sneaky, President Marlowe. You know your kids get their way with me nearly as much as Gremlin." She tried not to laugh as Christopher, who was now standing at the foot of Dev's bed with Aaron, nervously tugged at his glasses, waiting for her answer. Then she blinked. Did he pick that up from me?
Before Lauren could answer Dev, Aaron trotted over and climbed up into her lap, turning blue eyes that rivaled his mother's on the writer. The little boy, like his best buddy Gremlin, had no shame whatsoever when it came to manipulating Lauren. "Please," he asked pathetically. Lauren's head dropped forward and her shoulders started to shake with silent laughter. "Yes!" she crowed, happily. "Yes, Grem and I will come."
The children cheered and Aaron jumped off Lauren's lap to go play with his brother. His work here was done.
Lauren turned back to Dev, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. She leaned into the fingers that were still lightly pressed against her thigh. "I'd love to talk to your parents. I've been meaning to ask David to arrange an interview. But seeing you with them and talking to them in person will be so much better." She needs this. We all do.
Dev still had dark circles under her eyes, and she'd lost weight over the last few weeks. But she was still the most beautiful woman Lauren had ever seen. "I think we could both use a vacation." She grinned. "I'd love to get out the city for a while." With you.
Dev's answering smile caused her to laugh out loud. Suddenly, her eyes took on added depth, and she lowered her voice so that only the President could hear her. She hesitated and glanced around the room. "We need to have a talk soon though, okay?" She inclined her head, waiting for Dev's reply.
"Okay." Dev nodded, suddenly apprehensive. "Anything you want. Whenever you want it." She licked her lips. "Lauren, if I've done something to upset you, you'd tell me now, right?"
"No, I wouldn't," the blonde replied seriously. "I'd rather do this alone."
The knot in Dev's stomach tightened. "Son of a-" she stopped when she realized that the kids were only a few feet away. The phone rang and she let out a frustrated grunt. "Activate phone."
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