“Madame Speaker, the President of the United States!”

                She could feel him watching from the far side of the room.  He was leaning against the wall of the congressional majority cloak room, cutting his usual dashing figure.

                He’d given her a wide berth these last few weeks, knowing that her thoughts were elsewhere. The State of the Union had been imminent and she had little but good news to report.  They weren’t worried about public perception with the sort of approval numbers they were showing. What they were worried about, what she was worried about was re-election. She didn’t know if she wanted it.

                She’d never imagined that there’d come a time when she was uncertain about serving another term. There was a lot to do—still a lot to do—and she would need every second. She’d planned to devote the best of her remaining years to public service after Bill died.  It wasn’t that his death meant she’d never live again, she just hadn’t expected to fall for someone new, not this much. And there was no denying it, she was in love and in no small way.

                Hillary wanted a life with Evan Bayh and, by damn, it wouldn’t be easy. In fact, it felt impossible to think that she could have both. She could be President or she could spend the next few years cultivating an unexpected love.

                It felt like a decision she’d made before. She had put her own ambition aside for love decades ago and while she couldn’t say she regretted it, she was reticent to do it again.

                Still, she thought, God, I’d hate to give him up.  He was still watching; now, from a chair.  He had his hands laced together, no ring and a pale band on his finger that screamed a dozen recriminations her way.  He told her they’d simply fallen out of love while he was falling for her.  The idea was easier to accept than she would have ordinarily believed.

                “Can we have the room,” she asked to her assembled staff and aides.  They looked at each other warily before nodding with the odd, “Yes, Madame President” and departing. Evan was the only one left; he knew his cue to go and this wasn’t it.

                She folded her hands in front of her and faced him head-on.  He stood up and reflexively buttoned his jacket.  He remained the ever-ready soldier. As he had been when they were merely colleagues on the same path, he remained now that they were lovers on the same journey.

                She offered him her hand. He crossed the room in seconds, enveloping her hand in his.  He wasn’t just a soldier then.

                “I’m going to go out there and make one of two speeches today,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I’m either going to talk about all the work we have left to do—or I’m going to remark on what great times we’ve had and how glad I’ve been to have the opportunity. Do you understand the difference between them?”

                The tension in his body was palpable. She saw the frown on his lips like the felt the smile on her own.  She had done great things in these four years and she wasn’t ashamed of that. If this was the time to walk away, she was prepared to do so.

                “I know that one means I get everything I want and one means…maybe not.”  He pulled her toward him and she didn’t resist. She was used to being in close proximity to him now. Since the night of Chelsea’s wedding, if he could be found, it was near her. He was always close enough to share a confidence, always close enough to make her smile.

                “Yeah. You know, I never thought I’d get this job. I never thought I’d actually get to be president when everything was said and done. I thought I’d give it a try and if it didn’t work, I’d go back to the Senate with a little clout and a lot of money in my war chest.”

                He tucked an arm around her and let out a deep breath.  

                She flinched. He sounds so tired.

“You got more than that,” he reminded her.

“Yes, I did.” She leaned back to read his expression.  “And maybe that’s enough.”

~!~

                Hillary didn’t have a hair out of place, but he brushed his fingers across her face as if she did. She had always been well-coiffed and, even when she was disheveled, she was prepared for whatever was to come. He should have known she would have a plan for their future. He should have expected that she’d thought it through from all possible sides. Twenty-three years after meeting her, she still left him dumbstruck.

                “You can’t.”  She raised an elegant eyebrow and he knew it was time to retrace his steps. “You know what I mean. You have a responsibility to the people of this country to serve as long as you can. As much as I love you—because I love you—I would be remiss to say, ‘Forget the country. Let’s run away together.’ It’d be a disaster, if a pleasurable one.”  He kissed her gently on the temple and told her, “You’d resent me in the end and I’d rather never have another moment with you than have you hate me someday.”

                His President smiled at him. It was a quiet, contemplative smile that he knew too well.  She’d disappeared inside her head again, the one place he couldn’t go. He sometimes feared the demons that hid there, the ones that told her she wasn’t good enough or strong enough or capable.  As much as he adored that mind, he abhorred it, too.

                “Whatever you do, I will support you. I just know that you wouldn’t be Hillary if you walked away so soon.”

                She smiled her half-smile and touched his face.  “Then, you understand what I have to do?”

                He did and nodded as much. Their affair had been a precarious one at best, brought on by love and inevitability.  They worked well as a pair, in politics and in other more intimate pursuits. He would rather have history recall their best work and save the latter memories for his dying days. Hell, they wouldn’t be in Office forever. Someday, they’d be Hillary and Evan again. Then, he’d hold her and he’d never let her go.

                Until then… “Madame President, may I escort you to the Senate Chamber?”  He offered her his arm and, perhaps for the last time in years, his heart.

                She took hold of one audibly and the other with silence. “I’d be honored, Mr. Vice President.”

                The door to the cloak room opened slowly and her Chief of Staff leaned in.  “Madame President, they’re ready.”

                She nodded and Evan led the way.  Of course his heart was thundering to the sound of applause as they moved down the corridor. He still got a kick out of the pomp and circumstance, probably more than she ever had.

                They arrived at the chamber doors in time for them swung open before them. All the assembled congressmen and congresswoman stood in deference.  She squeezed his arm one more time, her smile not as tremulous as the look in her eyes. He hoped his expression was any better. The cameras were on and the country was watching.

                “Madame Speaker, the President of the United States,” the Sergeant-at-arms bellowed and Hillary let go.  He was immediately bereft but he’d never show it.

Clad in a rich red pantsuit and all the authority of the Executive Branch, he knew she had their hearts and minds in a vice grip. She had a way with the American people and he prayed she always would.

She marched down the aisle, shaking hands and beaming as brightly as the moon shone over the Potomac. This was her moment and her place.  He was overjoyed to share it with her and, whatever the distance that might grow between them now, he had no intention of leaving.

This was his administration and this was his president.  God bless America, he thought and clapped louder than anyone.

At last, she stood in the middle of the chamber and pointed out previously-vetted honored guests. They stood to be acknowledged and were appropriately praised. After that, she took the podium and began to speak.

Although he generally loved to listen to her, his thoughts began to stray at this point.  He had stood by while this speech was craft and re-crafted over the course of months. He knew the text as well as she, he imagined; could recite it and write it in French if asked. It was a good speech and a moving one; it just wasn’t what he needed to hear today. Still, he put on a good show and kept his eyes trained on the woman who had led them to the era of the Better Deal.

“I have been gifted,” she said, “with the opportunity to make great change in this country. I have been gifted with opportunity to build a legacy of my very own—and I have, but I doubt it’s the legacy you think. My legacy will be in every one of the millions of children who lives to see adulthood that would not have five years ago. My legacy will be in every one of those children who grows into a man or a woman who attains higher education and goes on to live remarkable, fulfilling lives. My legacy will be in the children of those children who go on to do the same.”

She gripped the podium and took one slow, grand look around her. The hairs on the back of Evan’s neck pricked up.

“My legacy has already been written and I’d like to thank you all for giving me the chance to pick up the pen. It has been an honor and a privilege.”

Her eyes, more grey than blue in the Senate lights, found his just as he misplaced his ability to think.

She smiled that secret smile again and said, “I couldn’t ask for more.”

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