A/N: Y'all...2x19 got me EXCITED. I'm crossing my fingers that wasn't a closure, but an opening for picking up where they left off eventually. And if not, this fic is my happy ending. Lol. Enjoy!

*Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing and my friend, Heather, for looking over it to make sure our beloved emron were in character. Thanks, loves!

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

It was a good line. She had to give him that. They wouldn't be where they were today if after the scandal had subsided when he proved not to be traitor once and for all. After he decided to work for Kimble Hookstraten. After he came back to the White House because Tom Kirkman, the President of the United States, just had to have him on his staff. She wasn't complaining.

And maybe it wouldn't have worked out. Maybe it was easier to forget and move on because for so long it felt like too much had happened to just pick up where they left off.

After all, she'd tried dating Seth, and that hadn't gone too well. She'd been hesitant to his advances, but he had a way with words and he was the perfect boyfriend. There was nothing that should've left her standing there with cold feet while he waited for her to tell him what speed they should go at that or if they should go at all.

Ultimately, he'd taken the decision out of her hands, and they were probably better for it. Maybe she did have commitment issues. Maybe she was simply incapable of indulging in a serious relationship because of the lack of control it offered. You had to be willing to trust your significant other enough to let people know you were together at the very least.

She didn't know why, but it was too difficult to even do that. By word of mouth, sure; she couldn't stop that. But official documents that declared relationship status – even if it was only a formality to prevent accusations of sexual harassment – gave her goosebumps, and not the good kind. It sent her running so many times even Seth couldn't put up with it anymore.

She felt terrible, of course, given how much he obviously wanted to be with her. But she realized a few days after the break-up that that's all she felt. Bad for him – for Seth. She wasn't distraught over the break-up for her sake. She wasn't heartbroken. She just didn't like being responsible for hurting a friend, an ex-boyfriend now.

But that aching, devastating constant feeling of loss she'd felt when the blossoming romance she'd shared with Aaron had been abruptly cut short the year before? No, she didn't feel that. And her friendship – or at least co-worker relationship – with Seth didn't suffer from their break-up, so it almost felt like the whole thing had been a dream. A day dream she sank into when she wasn't wondering what if things had gone differently with Aaron Shore.

Not knowing if this would be their last day working together, she decided to summon her courage and ask Aaron those questions that had been driving her crazy for over a year. Did he think about them, did he wish things could have gone differently, did he still remember that 'not bad' kiss that sometimes kept her up at night in a cold sweat, especially now that she was without a boyfriend and didn't feel like she had to scold herself for allowing herself to slip into that memory, that fantasy?

She couldn't complain about his answers because she was being as casual in asking them as he was in answering them.

And what had she expected really? Him to say he regretted not asking her out again? To say he didn't do it because she was with Seth and he didn't want to interfere? To say that he only held back because he was afraid she didn't feel the same way?

What kind of a romantic comedy did she think she was in?

It wasn't even as if she still had feelings for him. She didn't know how she felt. There was no harm fantasizing over one of the best kisses she'd ever had in her life. It didn't mean she still felt an attraction towards the man himself.

Though this interaction they were having right now did stir the pot a little, making her wonder if she'd walked right into her own trap.

"If we do get kicked out of here," she began, blocking out any further thoughts of how she could possibly be feeling. "Drinks?"

She stood up, trying not to dwell on how curiously he was looking at her. She rolled her eyes and smiled, trying to play it cool.

"As friends, Shore. I'll invite Seth and Lyor too. And Kendra."

He cringed. "Do we have to invite Lyor?"

She wished she had a pillow to throw at him. She smiled instead, couldn't stop smiling; for his part, he couldn't seem to stop smiling either.

"Drinks sound good," he finally said.

Her smile lessened but it remained genuine, happy.

"Great."

She turned to walk around the chair and start her way towards the exit.

"Hey, Em."

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"What if our president…stays…our president?"

She smiled brilliantly.

"Then I guess it's up to you if you want to join me for a drink."

She bit her bottom lip and walked out the door before her blinding smile stretched so entirely across her face that her cheeks started to hurt.

She missed this, this little bit of flirtation with Aaron. It felt familiar in the nicest way. It wasn't recent familiar, but it was familiar of a time she wished she could get back. Those early days before all the chaos really unraveled in the White House.

And truly, flirting was harmless. And would lead to nowhere if Aaron truly didn't want it to and she herself had no intention of going in that direction.

They were just friendly co-workers going out for a drink, drowning in their sorrows or celebrating their success. Aside from some teasing – and possibly leering, depending on if she managed to get drunk – it was bound to be a completely platonic, enjoyable evening, and she was 100% okay with that.

At least that's what she told herself.

Just like she told herself she forgot to extend the invitation to Seth, Lyor, Kendra, and even Tom. She'd been planning on Mike too maybe. She forgot him as well.

And then when Tom won the vote to stay in office, she told herself she wasn't just a little bit disappointed. Not for Tom obviously. They all thought he was the perfect president, and of course, wanted to keep their jobs.

But the chance that Aaron would show up for drinks with her got remarkably slim with that outcome. She almost decided to just go home and drink half a bottle of wine by herself – from the bottle.

But on the off-chance he would come – since she said she would be there – Emily went to the main bar they all frequented, sat right at the bar and waited.

She went through two glasses before he arrived.

"Just me, huh?" he asked, coming to sit on a bar stool before her.

Her eyes widened, and she nearly dropped the toothpick with an olive dangling near the end of it. She forced herself to slow her racing heart beat and set the toothpick back in her drink.

What is wrong with you, Emily? What are you doing? Why are you reacting like this?

She brushed the pestering thoughts aside.

"I almost thought you weren't coming."

He looked around them, scanning the immediate vicinity for anyone else he might recognize.

"Me or anyone else, I'm guessing." His eyes landed back on her. "Did everyone really have other plans?"

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze and sticking the olive in her mouth, chewing carefully before answering.

"I guess they forgot."

He must've guessed the truth because she could feel the smirk on his face as he took her in. But he never called her out on her lie or brought up their previous conversation, for which she was incredibly grateful.

"Bartender!" He lifted his hand in signal that he was ready.

Emily looked up hesitantly, and he caught her eye.

"I'll have what she's having."

Her breath caught in her throat. Not because she was hung-up on her being a fan of her alcoholic beverage, but because he had a look in his eye; a look she really liked and that sufficiently shut down all common sense, logic, and analysis of feelings for the rest of the evening.

…

The front door of Aaron's house hit the wall with a bang as he and Emily stumbled into it, not looking where they were going because their eyes were closed – and their lips were locked on each other.

Emily jumped for only a moment at the sound, yelping quietly.

He laughed, mumbling, "sorry, sorry" before shutting the door, locking it and then returning to her. It was the perfect moment to put a stop to what was happening between them, but inevitably he'd left his previous opinion of their involvement at the front door as well. Or maybe at the bar. Or maybe at his office at the White House earlier that day.

His lips, his mouth, his tongue tasted like Heaven. His cologne dazzled her senses. His arms were strong, his chest and back broad and firm, and he was wearing far too many clothes.

They were at the foot of the couch when she stopped him again.

"What is it?"

"Bedroom?" She looked up at him hopefully.

He laughed, the sound sending chills down her spine, the most delicious ones.

"Are you high maintenance, Emily Rhodes?"

He cradled her face in his hand, sifting his fingers through her hair. She had to fight the moan building in her throat.

"I just like to be comfortable," she defended, though it was weak with how her eyes fell to his lips and stifled her breathing.

"Okay then." He grinned the sexiest grin she had ever encountered, then tugged on her hand and pulled her down the hall until they reached his room.

Excitement thrumming through her, Emily practically skipped into the room and started undressing herself as quickly as she could manage.

"Somebody's eager," he teased, and she nearly fell over halfway through unbuckling one shoe.

His shirt was off, and he was pulling his belt from the loops, and she couldn't believe this was happening.

"Don't tell me you're not," she said, unhooking her lacy bra behind her back and letting it flutter to the floor off her shoulders.

His eyes lowered to her breasts and he rid himself of his pants on his way over to her. He cupped each breast in a hand, holding them tenderly, then covering them completely.

"Aaron," her voice got caught in her throat.

He lifted his eyes to hers and his hand to her chin and kissed her sweetly, once and then again, before pulling away to lead her to the bed.

It didn't take long for the rest of their clothes to disappear and for Aaron to be hovering over her, taking her in again. For her part, Emily traced the lines of his collar bone, his chest, his abs. She draped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, gasping and arching up against him when he thrust into her in the same breath.

He pulled his legs around her waist, and she held them securely there, holding on tightly as he retreated and returned to her, each intoxicating thrust more exciting, more satisfying than the next.

Her breaths came quicker, and so did his. Soon his head was pressed into the pillow on the side of her head and he was moving so fast and she just barely didn't scream. He was moaning her name and her nails were digging into his back, her heels into his ass, and when he lifted his body up to fuck her harder she lost all control.

She screamed, he growled, then fell on top of her, then off again, but she wouldn't let him get far.

"Not already, I hope," he said, still trying to catch his breath when she laid her hand on his chest so he wouldn't get away.

"No way. I'm gonna pass out."

He laughed.

"Too much alcohol."

"You didn't even get drunk."

"I did."

"You got tipsy."

"That's almost drunk."

"You got tipsy and pretended to be drunk, so in the morning you can say this happened because we got drunk."

"You're not drunk either."

He laughed.

"No, I'm not."

She waited a few beats, licked her lips, and then turned her head to look at him.

"So, why'd you do it?"

He shared her gaze.

"Why'd I do what? Let you seduce me?"

"I did not-" His look stopped her.

"Because you wanted a sequel, Emily Rhodes," he said, turning fully on his side and cuddling closer until his nose was pressed against hers along with his lips. "And because I missed the way you taste."

Shivers ripped down her spine – delicious, exciting shivers that made her want to dance and sing and fuck again – if only she had the strength.

She didn't ask if this was a one-time thing. She didn't want there to be a label on it yet.

Beside that, she was having trouble speaking at all. His eyes were molten lava that was melting her brain.

"Goodnight, Emily," he said, filling in the silence for her.

He turned to face the other way and pulled the covers over them. Soon she could see the even rise-and-fall of his body as he fell into a deep sleep.

"Goodnight," she whispered, deaf to his own ears, but it didn't matter.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. It was undoubtedly hard as happiness spread through her, and uncertainty trickled in the back of her mind. She ignored the latter. Tonight was good.

No. Tonight was fantastic.