"Old Friends"
Post series end, no spoilers but a little creative license
Requested by Autumn_is_an_Angel
*
Of all the things I hated about working in Washington, White House dinners had never been on the list. Getting dressed up was exciting, and being in the same room as the people who were practically American royalty was incredible. Knowing them was even better, although nerve-wracking. In two years and nearly twenty events, I had been called out by my second mother every single time.
"Wow, he's not even in the room yet, and you look like you need a drink," one of my friends, Melanie, said. I snapped out of my trance, having been staring at the podium, and took the glass of champagne she offered me. I downed it in one drag and traded the empty flute for a full one as a waiter walked past. "So, you needed two drinks. Is he bringing his boyfriend?"
"They broke up," I answered quickly. Too quickly. I mentally face-palmed while Melanie smirked.
"That was faster than usual," she noted. She tried to start a new insult but was stopped when a pair of Secret Service agents entered the room. The partygoers turned their attention to the entourage coming in. I saw Elaine as she entered, surveying her guests will a willing smile on her face.
"Please, don't stop on my account," she urged. The politicians and their assistants laughed as expected. She began to move about the room, and I forced myself to turn away and avoid the rest of the Hammond family's entrance.
"Jesus," Melanie muttered. "And I thought high school crushes were bad."
"I am a grown woman. I work for the Secretary of Defense. I have travelled with combat units in Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan. I've threatened dictators. I do not have a crush on --"
Melanie's eyes widened, and I cut myself off. I squared my shoulders and turned around. To no surprise, there was TJ.
"Who do you not have a crush on?" he asked, grinning at me.
"Jack Daniels," I answered somewhat smoothly. "I am very fond of his work. I'm going to see if he's at the bar actually."
Before I could spin around and start my walk to the bar, TJ had my hand in his, and he was leading me to the bustling dance floor. I barely had time to pass my still full champagne flute to Melanie. TJ made a beeline for the center of the space and was holding my hand and my hip.
"You look very nice," he told me quietly. I glanced down at my dress. I had worn it to three other White House events. It was a dark blue thing with a very simple cut and modest neckline. Tonight, I wore it with a classic strand of pearls.
"Thanks," I replied.
"Although I agree that Jack Daniels was a wonderful man, I have couple questions," TJ said. I began blushing and smiling like crazy. "What does your age, occupation, travel history, and expectant death threats have to do with your appreciation of whiskey?"
"Absolutely nothing, if I'm honest. Granted, I think the champagne is making me honest," I babbled.
"Lightweight," TJ teased. I slapped his arm gently, making him laugh. No one paid us any attention. We danced and chatted and laughed at every White House dinner or political meeting that he happened to attend. Because of my position in the Department of Defense, I was invited to all the big parties, but I never brought a date. TJ was a friend from my childhood and a gentleman most of the time. So, we danced.
"You'll have to excuse me. I didn't spend most of my teens, all of my twenties, and my early thirties building up a tolerance to all manner of addictive substances," I jabbed. He knew I was joking, but he still brought his hand and mine to his heart and winced dramatically.
"I'm wounded," he groaned. I continued to blush as a few dancing politicians nearby noticed his impromptu performance. TJ, trying to behave, straightened up. I was pulled closer as he did so. "So who do you have a crush on here? Let's see who's cute."
He began searching the room discreetly, using our pattern on the dance floor to look over my shoulder at almost every man in the room. Some were admittedly attractive men who were my age, like the Undersecretary of Education or an army Captain with an impressive collection of medals. Others were ridiculously not available. Namely among these, the married Vice President and another Undersecretary who happened to have brought his husband to dinner.
"I never said I had a crush on anyone in here, TJ," I reminded him after he had futilely searched the room. "In fact, I said I didn't. I'm a grown--"
"Woman who has done a bunch of bad ass stuff. I heard," he cut me off. "Crushes are fun. Come on, tell me who it is."
"TJ," I began. Before I could get into why I didn't have a schoolgirl crush on any high ranking military officers of cabinet members, Elaine stepped up to the podium at the front of the room. She too was in a navy dress, but hers was new and special. TJ kept an arm around my waist as he turned us to face his mother.
My mind began to wander while I stood hip to hip with him. His arm sat low on my back and his fingers absentmindedly played with the folds of fabric at my waist. Years of drug or withdrawal induced fidgeting gave TJ a near constant urge to have something malleable in his hands. It tickled, but it sent chills up my spine at the same time. When I realized what sort of fantastical places my head was going, I excused myself to the hallway. Although it was rude to leave in the middle of the President's speech, Elaine ignored me.
I made it into the hallway and flagged down a waiter on his way into the dining room.
"What do you have?" I asked, pointing at his tray.
"Jack and Coke," he answered. He looked surprised.
"Speak of the devil," I muttered. I took one off the tray and thanked him as he skittered away. I took a seat in the floor in a very unladylike way. A wandering Secret Service agent walked by as he made his rounds. He stopped to make sure I wasn't drunk and continued on his way after I assured him I was far from it. Getting drunk at the White House was considered very bad form.
I sipped my new drink slowly, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I was getting ridiculously over my head with TJ. Within a few moments of contemplation, I had decided to skip anything that he might attend. His philanthropic anti-drug agenda regularly made its way into the Pentagon, and I could easily avoid those meetings.
"Hmm, that looks good," a familiar voice told me. I opened my eyes and saw TJ standing a few feet away. He stepped closer and joined me in the floor. "Can I have some?"
"Hell no," I answered. I tossed back the rest of the liquor but kept the glass in my hand. "I needed that."
"Someone's crush must not be treating them well," he assumed.
"Say crush one more time," I dared. He chuckled and bumped his shoulder into mine.
"I know better. You're friends with far too many Marines," he explained. "But seriously. You can tell me who he is. I'm a fantastic wingman."
I turned to stare at him. I knew for a fact he was a terrible wingman. He looked offended, as if he could read my mind. It was a really good thing he couldn't.
"Please," he begged.
"It's really embarrassing," I told him, hoping that would be enough to stop him.
"So? Were you paying attention to my twenties? It was one embarrassing tabloid story after another," he said. He wasn't wrong.
"It's a lot worse than you mooning a bunch a sorority girls from a chemistry lab."
He bit his lip while trying to restrain his laughter. Damn it, that was hot.
"Touché," he conceded. "What about hints? Does he work for the government? Saying no would really narrow this down."
"It's you," I admitted. I stared at the beige wall across from me and willed my drink to refill itself. TJ straightened up, and I braced myself. Almost twenty years of friendship could very well go down the drain. I waited.
"I had a crush on you when I was fourteen. Almost right before I came out. It was one of the things that slowed me down. I thought if I liked you so much, then maybe I really was confused," he told me. I listened patiently. He laughed to himself. "Then I went batshit crazy."
I laughed with him, and the mood in our little hallway lifted.
"Oh, God. What am I going to do?" I said. TJ laid his arm over my shoulders and pulled me against him. Eventually I laid my head on his shoulder.
"Go on a date with me," he suggested. I stayed where I was and waited for him to explain himself. "Maybe you'll decide I'm not worth the trouble or that I don't meet your high expectations."
"You bribed two of your professors and a cop with sex, TJ. My expectations have only recently reached ground level," I told him. He shushed me.
"Or maybe my crush on you will resurface. Who knows?" he finished. "So, what do you say? Will you go on a date with me?"
*
Author's Note:
This turned out significantly longer than I expected, but I'm actually quite pleased with it. I owe a big thanks to @Autumn_is_an_Angel for her request. I owe all of my readers a big thank you, as well. These stories are up to 200 votes!
I had some problems uploading this piece and making Wattpad show everything I had written. Hopefully, we've come to an agreement, and they'll stay up.