Madam President

Chapter Ten

It was amazing, really, what a few weeks could do.

Amazing what that one night had done to bring Freen closer to Rebecca. Was she more protective than ever? Well. Yes.

Did Rebecca mind?

...No.

No, Rebecca didn't mind sharing most of her private meals with Freen. Nor did she mind always knowing she was there somewhere. Watching.

Until she'd been put in a situation that might have presented a real danger, Rebecca had sometimes thought Freen a little over-concerned. She'd worried Freen put herself under undue stress.

But now? Now, Rebecca was just thankful.

And all these things were flooding her mind as she washed her hands carefully so as not to splash her dress while the sounds of the gala outside filtered through the shut and locked door across the room.

"Do you hate these things as much as I do?" Rebecca asked as Freen held a paper towel out to her.

"As much if not more. There's so much noise it's hard to hear what I need to hear." Freen responded quietly as Rebecca tried and failed to catch her gaze through the glasses she was wearing.

Those damn glasses. That damn suit. All of it.

Rebecca swallowed thickly as she finished drying her hands and handed the damp towel back to Freen.

"But you look wonderful." Freen continued just as softly. "And I'll make sure you have a real drink tonight when we get you home safe."

Rebecca nodded faintly.

"Just a few more hours." She said more to herself than to Freen as the agent tossed the towel into the nearest bin.

"Soon." Freen agreed, biting her lower lip for a moment before she sighed quietly. "I'm sorry if I overstepped just now. I probably shouldn't have said that."

"About the drink?" Rebecca asked, clearly amused. "If you think for a minute that I'll turn down a stiff beverage when all this is said and done, you're wrong."

Rebecca could tell by Freen's silence and by the unreadable expression on her face that that wasn't at all what she'd been apologizing for.

She wondered if Freen could see the faint flush beneath her foundation through the tint of her glasses.

"I...no. No, you didn't overstep. And I like this suit." Rebecca reached out rather brazenly towards Freen's lapel and touched over the identifier pin that was fastened there. The pin that identified Freen as part of Rebecca's closest inner circle.

"Did you have it tailored for the gala?"

Freen exhaled softly through her nose as Rebecca's knuckles brushed against her chest as a result of the way she was feeling the material.

Maybe I had it tailored for you.

"I did. We all tend to try and look our best for these things."

"You do," Rebecca responded, fixing the lapel she'd shifted off-kilter and glancing down at Freen's nearest hand before she pulled her own away. "Look your best, I mean."

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them did what they should have been doing right now, which was going back through that door to face their individual realities for the duration of the evening. But Rebecca wasn't in the mood right this instant to continue pretending to be charmed.

And Freen, well...Freen just couldn't have moved if she wanted to. Especially not when Rebecca took a step closer.

"How long have we known each other now, Freen?"