Secrets of the West Wing

Chapter 5 - Night Changes

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexual themes

July 2025

I stared in awe in the mirror.  Very rarely did I feel genuinely beautiful, but as I looked upon myself, dressed for Vice President Rossi's birthday gala, I felt truly radiant.  Penelope's choice of stylist blew my expectations out of the water; she pulled out all the stops.  I wondered at my reflection - entranced by the smoky, sensual eyes staring back, framed by long, false lashes.   Normally I didn't let myself wear so much makeup.   I was always afraid the press would say I was trying too hard.   But tonight...well I'd be lying if I said I didn't tell the stylist I was maybe trying to catch someone's eye.  She raised her hand up as if to stop me and said, "Say no more.  I know just what to do with you."

She chose a deep, wine-colored lace dress with a slit up the leg.  Tastefully teasing.  The straps were off the shoulder, and it was just low cut enough to be enticing without becoming a scandal.   The dress was JJ approved.  She also curled my hair and pinned it up so it was the perfect balance of elegant and messy.   Being a woman in the White House subjected me to immense scrutiny.  Everything had to be balanced.  Too conservative?  I was a prude.  Too racy and I was inappropriately sexualizing myself.  Tonight I was pushing the boundaries because I needed to get Emily to notice me.

Although she seemed happy to be there for me when I was breaking down after coming home from Colorado, Emily had taken a step back in the following weeks.   She was a bit more formal, calling me "Madam President," or ""y/l/n."  We'd only had one wine night in these past nine weeks.  This was a stark departure from what was previously a weekly ritual.  Though I certainly missed flirting with her, I really just missed my best friend.  Her sudden distance confused me.   During the day, I often found my mind wandering to that night and what I did wrong.  Who knew Emily would be more distracting when less involved in my life?

The gentle, caring Emily who held me that night was nearly irreconcilable with the cold, aloof Emily of the past two months.  It's like the following morning, she flipped a switch.  I didn't know how to reverse it.   I hoped tonight would be the catalyst.

I did one last once-over in the mirror and deemed myself ready.  The only thing missing from my ensemble was a certain Secret Service agent on my arm.

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Though a stuffy White House gala, the party was actually pretty fun.  Everyone was cheerful, laughter ringing around the gardens from every direction.  The band kept everyone up and dancing.  The open bar didn't hurt either.

All night I was buzzed on the heady combination of alcohol and the feel of Emily's watchful eyes following me like a shadow in the night.  My skin tingled just knowing she was watching.  One touch and surely I'd ignite.  Though I could feel her always near, she was never close enough.   She also remained hidden as best she could.   Never allowing me to gawk for long.

Loneliness crept over me as I realized I was the lone sailor in a sea of couples.  I was surrounded by smiles, intimate embraces, and soft kisses.  The only date I could ever want was here, but not the way I wanted.  And god did I want her.  She looked damn good tonight wearing a three-piece black suit that fit her like a fucking glove.

Each endless dance with men kissing up for money, attention, or political capital was only bearable because with each twirl, I caught a glimpse of my Emily.  Her eyes, so serious, always scanning, excited me.  Just the thought of her turning such an intense gaze on me clenched my stomach and shot a bolt of electricity down to my core.   I imagined myself sprawled out in her bed, underneath her, squirming, waiting for her to finally just touch me.  And all I would get would be her stare: heavy and hot with anticipation.  I flushed cheeks down to chest, nearly matching the shade of my dress.  The late July night suddenly suffocating.