Secrets of the West Wing

Chapter 14 - Fooling Few

December 2025

I waited for word on Emily for what seemed like an eternity.  I alternated between sitting and trying to control my breathing and pacing the empty waiting room.  And when the surgeon walked through the double doors, I held my breath.  I'd finally get an update.  I immediately moved towards him, meeting him halfway.  Since I was the only one in the waiting room, it was obvious he had an update on Emily.

"Madam President, it's an honor and a pleasure," he said sticking his hand out.  I frowned.  It was neither an honor nor a pleasure to be meeting this man.  "Under unfortunate circumstances, I mean..." I tuned out his ramblings waiting to hear Emily's name and condition.

Finally I interrupted him, "How is she?"  I couldn't bother with social niceties right now.  I had to know if she was okay.

"She's alive."  I nearly cried from joy.  I exhaled loudly, expelling the fears from the last couple hours.  "And stable," he continued.  "She's going to be just fine.  It was dicey for a bit, but we got the bleeding stopped, and there was no damage to her internal organs.  She was very lucky.  A few centimeters to the left and she may not have lived."

Oh god.  I was a couple centimeters from losing Em forever.  It was unbearable.

"She's still under anesthesia, but you're welcome to sit with her."

"Yes!" I rushed out, hoping he'd take me immediately.

"Some agent, huh?  Never had the President sit and wait for an agent before."  I couldn't believe this guy's gall.  I ignored his smirking, expectant gaze.

"Do you get a lot of shot agents in your OR, doctor?"

"Well, no," he conceded.

We finally made it to her room.  I rushed in, not caring about appearances anymore.  My heart broke at the sight of Emily.  My normally larger than life, confident Em looked so small and frail with the cannula in her nose and IVs coming out of her arm.  "Thank you," I said dismissing the doctor.

I didn't care if anyone walked in.  Without thought, I pulled up a chair, took Emily's hand, and waited for her to wake up.  I stroked the skin of her hand, pressed my lips to it, and held it to my face.  Tears, I hoped for the last time today, leaked out of my eyes as I laid my head down next to her hip.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I felt was a soft caress on my face.  My eyes flashed open to see Emily's soft, tired smile.  I grabbed her hand so she couldn't remove it from my face.  I started bawling, so relieved she was awake and okay.  She cooed at me to calm me down.  It didn't work.

"Don't do that to me again!" I was nearly hyperventilating.

"I'm-" she rasped, her voice raw from having a tube down her throat during surgery.  She swallowed thickly.  "I'm sorry, love," she whispered.

"You took a bullet for me, Em.  That's supposed to just be a cliché thing people say.  You aren't supposed to get yourself shot for me!  All the times you've called me reckless!  And you get yourself shot.  Don't you do that ever again.  Don't ever put yourself in that situation again!"  I cried again, kissing the inside of her wrist, happy she was alive for me to lecture.

"Are you done?" she joked.  I internally rolled my eyes.  Leave it to her to joke after a near-death experience.

"No," I said stubbornly.  I looked sincerely into her eyes.  "Thank you," I whispered, giving her another kiss on the hand.

"I thought I wasn't going to ever see your face again," she admitted softly.  "Kiss me, please."

"What if someone walks in?" I worried.