Martha sat on the edge of the hard hospital bed, gazing out of the window. It was a beautiful day, and she remembered how much she missed L.A. It was so lovely compared to Washington , where she had never felt quite at home, and accessorizing umbrellas to go with her outfits was not a task she particularly enjoyed. Back in Los Angeles , she felt at home – and surprisingly, considering what had happened here only a few short weeks ago, she felt safe. Of course, that could also have a lot to do with a certain redheaded agent who had made daily visits to the hospital during her stay. It had been a long and trying ten days. Yes, Martha Logan was ready to go home. Home…where exactly was home, she wondered, as she stared again out of the window. Hal Gardner had been sworn in as the new President a few days after David's funeral. Charles had quietly stepped down with little fuss. She had managed to sneak a look at the headlines in the paper, although it seemed they were being conveniently hidden from her eyes. Of course, Aaron had kept her updated, and Mike had visited and also told her what had happened, as well as giving her the name of a highly-regarded and overpriced divorce attorney. It had been called a breakdown in the more tabloid press. The pressures of what had happened on that fateful day had caused the country's President to suffer from stress, and as such had decided, for the good of the country, to relinquish his position. Martha inwardly chuckled as she thought of the irony surrounding that particular story. All these years, she had been known as the unsteady one. Yet, the country was being told that their Commander-in-Chief was suffering from stress. Of course, the official story was that Charles was going through personal difficulties and no longer felt he could serve his country to the best of his ability. Personal difficulties...again, she smiled to herself. The rumors had already started to circulate: She was back in the clinic in Vermont and Charles was playing the dutiful husband. Their marriage was over and divorce proceedings had begun. Well, that paper had hit it on the nose, at least, she thought.

It had been so difficult keeping what she knew to herself. Of course, she had Aaron, and even poor Mike, to go over what had happened on that day with her. But she still couldn't understand. No matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't understand why her husband of nearly thirty years had done what he had. Aaron had thought that this was a good thing that she couldn't understand, because she was not capable of performing the atrocities Charles had. He had laughed at the confusion on her face when she had said how it eluded her that Charles had done the things he had done.

"Why are you laughing?" she had said, a little annoyed. What she was asking was serious.

"Oh, Martha…I'm not laughing at you. I'm just grateful that you don't understand what your husband did." He had leaned forward and almost whispered in her ear. "You don't understand, because you're a good person. Your mind just doesn't work in that way, and I'm glad." He had turned his face to hers and softly kissed her on the lips -- one of the many kisses they had managed to steal while she had been in the hospital.

Now, as she sat on the bed, suitcase packed and ready to leave, she began to wonder. Would it be as easy for them in the real world? Would they be able to find the time to get to know one another properly? Being in this room had been like living in a bubble; she had been protected from the outside world, and Aaron had been able to come and go as he pleased without arousing suspicion. A shiver went down her spine as she began to think that things may not be as easy once she returned home. She resumed her fixed gaze out of the window.

"Guess who?"

She jumped as someone quietly approached her from behind and placed a pair of warm hands over her eyes. When she recognized the voice, however, she relaxed and grinned.

"George Clooney!" she quipped, and the hands dropped from her face.

"Well, no. But I can see if he's free, if that's who you want." The voice that spoke to her back was playful and mock-hurt.

She turned and faced her playmate. "Well, it's a tough choice."

Aaron pouted, and Martha let out a laugh. In the ten days she had been in this room, she had discovered that her once stoic Secret Service agent could be funny and well, almost mischievous -- as well as devastatingly handsome. She stood so they were eye to eye and sighed dramatically. "But I guess you'll do." She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips and felt the now familiar feeling of her legs turning to jelly as he put his arms around her and deepened the kiss, his tongue battling hers until they found their now natural rhythm.

"Now that's what I call a welcome," she told him, her lips still barely touching his. He could feel her breath against his face as she spoke.

"Well, I do aim to please. Besides, today is a momentous day. They're finally letting you go home." He smiled fondly at her.

"Home." Her eyes dropped to the ground, and she pushed away from his hold. "I don't even know where that is, Aaron." She walked toward the window and again gazed at the now-familiar view. Slowly he walked over toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned her body back into his and once again began to relax. God, they really should put this man in prescription form, she thought and smiled to herself.

"Well, I know it's not ideal, but I am under instructions that you first be taken back to the White House and..." Aaron began.

She again pulled away from his embrace and spun on her heel to face him. "The White House! Oh, Aaron, I don't know if I can do that. I mean, officially it's no longer my home, and the thought of being back there..." She shuddered as she let her sentence trail off.

"I know, Martha. Believe me, I understand, but there is still protocol. We have to discuss your new security arrangements. After what happened to us, they are not going to let you set up home in the suburbs and barbecue by the pool. You may still be in danger, and even if they thought there was no immediate threat, you are the former First Lady; you need security. The President was quite clear with his instructions -- I was to collect you and bring you immediately to the White House.

Martha looked up from the floor and smiled teasingly at Aaron. "But I have all the protection I need. You're here, aren't you?"

He smiled at her, and with a peck of a kiss to her nose, said, "Well, let's get going, and try to make things more official, shall we?"

The drive back to the White House was quiet. Aaron could tell by her posture that she was not looking forward to their arrival. She sat staring out of the window, and her face was grim. He wished he could take her back to his small apartment and keep her safe from the hardship he knew lay ahead.

The car traveled on through the familiar streets, and Martha sat back as they began their trek up Pennsylvania Ave.

"You ready?" he asked quietly, so as not to let the agents in the front seat hear.

"As I'll ever be." She took a deep breath as the car came to a halt outside what had once been her home.

Martha glanced around the unfamiliar room. She had lived here sporadically for the last eighteen months. When Charles had first taken office, she had amused herself by wandering around the large building, looking for hidden passageways, but she had never found one. As she again took in her current surroundings, she realized she had never been in this room. Well, obviously, she thought, she would no longer be occupying the main suite. That now belonged to Hal and Beth Gardner. And if she was honest, the rooms held too many memories of things she did not want to revisit at this time. She jumped slightly as the door opened, and turning, she found the corners of her mouth tugging up into a smile. Did he truly know what effect he had on her? The time they had spent together at the hospital had been their time. No interruptions – well, except for that annoying nurse who never seemed to have a day off. They had spent their time talking about anything and everything. He had told her about his time growing up in Texas , his son, of whom he was obviously so proud, and on one occasion, he had even spoke to her of his ex-wife, Diane. She, in turn, had told him of her childhood in Massachusetts , and her two older sisters, both of whom had visited her once, but never when Aaron was there. The only subject they had rarely touched on was the one they needed to talk about most -- Charles. Of course, they had spoken of his resignation from office, and of her beginning divorce proceedings, but little else. As she looked at him now struggling with her luggage, she smiled again and wondered if he truly knew how she felt about him. There's no rush, Martha, she said to herself. You're free now; you have all the time in the world to make sure he knows.

"Well, I can't speak from experience -- my only stay in the hospital was when I was 10 and I had my appendix out. But you didn't happen to bring home any vital machinery home with you, did you? I mean, you know the ultrasounds aren't for keeping, right?" He smiled at her as he placed the last of her heavy bags onto the floor.

She grinned at him, looking about sixteen. "Well, there were a couple of cute male nurses...a girl has needs, you know."

"Seriously." He walked over to where she stood. " How're you feeling?"

"Lost, scared, alone." She glanced up into his eyes.

"You're not alone, Martha. I know it's not going to be as easy for us to be alone here, but I promise you now, I am not going anywhere. If you need m,e I will be right here at your side." He furtively glanced at the door, and seeing it was closed, he placed his hands on either side of her face and gently kissed her on the cheek. "Now are you ready?" She looked at him, confused. "The President wants to see you."

Christ! Martha thought as she struggled to breathe. She'd survived nearly being frozen, and now it felt as if she was going to be asphyxiated on a combination of cheap polyester and Old Spice. She wondered how long was long enough to be locked in Gardner 's embrace before she could pull away. After another second, though, she was released, and she stood facing the new President of the United States .

"Martha! Martha, it's so good to have you back. Beth and I were just sick when we heard what had happened to you."

Sick. Martha thought sarcastically, that's why you both came to visit me. She looked up and smiled graciously. "Thank you, Mr. President. I have to say it's good to be out of the hospital

"Please, Martha -- it's Hal."

"Well, thank you, Hal. And I must thank you for letting me stay here until I make alternative arrangements. Please pass on my thanks to Beth. She is well, I hope?"

"Very well. She was sorry not to have been here, but she's visiting our eldest, Catherine -- she is due to have her first baby at any time."

"Oh, how nice! Do congratulate her for me." Martha shifted on her feet and wondered how much longer she was going to have to make small talk, when all she wanted to do was return to her room and throw herself under a blanket. Well, if she was honest, all she wanted to do was curl up under a blanket with Aaron. But until she was out of here, that was not seeming very likely.

"Thank you. Now, please, Martha -- take a seat." He gestured to a chair and returned to the seat behind the desk in the Oval Office. " I know things are not going to be easy for you, now that you're back in Washington . The press is obviously going to be very interested in where you've been. I understand you have started divorce proceedings against your husband."

Martha sat in the chair facing him. "Yes, I have."

"I see, I see." Well, under the circumstances, I can understand that. We have drafted a small statement to be read to the press tomorrow." He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to her. " As I know you are aware, we have glossed over the true facts of that day, but we strongly feel that to decrease the media interest in you, this is the best way to deal with things."

Martha picked up her purse and took out her reading glasses. Glasses! She cast a glance over the neatly typed words. It began simply enough. She had already read in the papers about Charles' supposed breakdown, but what she read next made her begin to feel a swell of anger in her stomach. She began to read aloud. "I strongly feel at this time of crisis in my husband's life that he needs professional medical care -- care which, at this time, I feel I am unable to give him. Although I remain an integral part of his life and will continue to support and ensure he is given the best treatment possible, I regret to say that our marriage has been unable to withstand the added pressure, and we have legally separated. Pending additional paperwork and counsel, I will be seeking a divorce from my husband." Martha calmly placed the paper in her lap and slowly took off her glasses. Taking her time to fold them and place them back in her purse she took a couple of deep breaths and regained her composure.

"Mr. Pres... Hal. I have to say that, in all honesty, I feel that I have served my country to the best of my ability. What I had to deal with on that day will remain with me for the rest of my life." She noticed her voice had begun to raise and again composed herself and spoke evenly. "On that day, I found out that the man I had been married to for going on thirty years was a traitor, and no matter what has been said to the country and the media, you and I both know this to be true. I will put up, no, I have already put up with, a lot of things for you and my country. But what I will not put up with is being branded a wife who will desert her husband in his time of need. So, Mr. President, and I say this with all due respect: No, I do not find this response acceptable, and I will not be reading this statement tomorrow. I will, however, happily stand up and talk to the media, God knows I want to be left alone to get on with my life. But I will not read this." She calmly walked over to the desk and placed the statement on his desk. looking him firmly in the eye she continued. "I appreciate you letting me stay here, Mr. President. I will, however, be making arrangements to leave as soon as possible. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to return to my rooms. When your staff has drafted another...excuse, I will be happy to read it." She nodded her head briefly. "Mr. President." Walking to the door, she let out the gasp of air she had been holding in, and smiled inwardly at the look on Hal's face. Without looking back, she left the room.

Sinking into the large easy chair by the window, Martha began to breathe at her usual pace again. How dare they! How dare they make her out to be the bad guy! She gave a half smile to herself though as she remembered the look on Hal's face as she had left the room. It reminded her of a goldfish she once had as a child. Giggling softly to herself, she sank further into the chair and let her eyes close. All too soon she was jolted back to the present by a knock at her door. Dammit, if this was Hal, she was leaving the country. "Come in!" she barked at the closed door.

"Well, that's a nice welcome, I must say." Aaron smiled, as his presence filled her room.

"Aaron, I'm sorry! I didn't know it was you; I thought you were the President."

Aaron raised one eyebrow. "The President! Martha, I know you were the First Lady, but you can still be charged with...I don't know, treason or something, for shouting at the President."

She smiled and pulled herself into a sitting position in the chair, her slender legs still tucked beneath her. "Aaron, we need to talk."

He walked over to where she sat and knelt beside her. "Martha, I was once married, and I have to say that no conversation that began with those words ever turned out good for me. Should I be wearing my bulletproof vest?"

She reached out and took his hands in hers. "How do you do that, Agent Pierce?" she purred.

"Do what, Mrs. Logan?" He stroked her fingers with his thumb.

"Make me feel that an atomic bomb could go off in front of me, but you would still find a way to make me smile."

"Oh, I don't know. Practice?"

She mock glared at him. "Practice? On who?"

"So, what do we need to talk about?"

"I don't want to stay here, Aaron. I thought it as we left the hospital, and I knew it as we arrived here. I don't belong here anymore, and I want to leave. I have a house just outside of Los Angeles . It's not the White House, but its homey, and just what I need right now." She looked down at their entwined fingers.

"I think that would be good for you. But what has it got to do with..."

"Come with me, Aaron," she blurted out. "I know your life is here, your job is here. But I'll need a small detail when I leave here, I know that, and I want you on that detail."

"You want me as your bodyguard?" Aaron pulled his fingers slightly out of her tight grasp.

"No, no, no." She pulled him back towards her. "Aaron, you know I want you as more than that. What we started in the hospital...I...I want to explore that with you. Please believe me, Aaron -- I want that more than anything. But we would be stupid if we didn't accept that we cannot begin a relationship in the public eye just yet. I'm not divorced yet. The media is still clamoring for a story, and I don't want them to turn what we have into something sordid. What I feel for you, Aaron, is pure and sweet, and I don't want that to be tainted. Not by anyone. If you came with me to the house on my detail there would be no gossip. You would be there to do a job." She leaned closer to him and whispered. "Of course, what we choose to do behind closed doors is no one's business but ours."

He reached out to her face and held it softly in his hands. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to leave my job here at the White House, my apartment, my life, and come and be your bodyguard slash secret gigolo at your new house."

Her breath caught in her mouth at their close proximity, but she smiled and replied, "Who said anything about gigolo? I just can't cook!" She leaned in and closed the gap between them and gently kissed him. She pulled away slowly. "So, what do you say?"

"I say..." He kissed her again. "Where do I sign?"

Martha looked up at him, the happiness radiating out of her beautiful blue eyes. "Where are you going?" Aaron had let go of her and stood up, making his way to the door.

"The quicker I request a transfer, the quicker we can leave." He continued to the door and opened it, alarming a nervous aide who stood about to knock on the other side.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have a message for Mrs. Logan." He handed Aaron an envelope and scurried away down the hall.

"What is it?" Martha got up from her chair.

"A letter, for you."

"Oh, it's probably the new statement from Hal. That was quick." She took the envelope from him and glanced down at her name on the front. Aaron looked at her concern growing as the blood seemed to drain from her face.

"What is it? Martha, what?"

She looked up at him, her face a mask of fear. "It's from Charles."