Washington, D.C.
Aaron moved the piles of papers around on his desk. For approximately the fifteenth time in the last half hour. Was it nerves? No, of course he wasn't nervous. After all, within a week he'd officially become the Vice President of the United States, and he felt hopelessly lost in his own head. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind, in particular thanks to his and Isabel's permanent separation. It had been a scandal of medium proportion, and the whole thing had hurt. The press and the public would never know the truth, but form their image on him as a human being and occupant of a high office based on a five-sentence press release.
He had many regrets and letting their relationship become a public matter at all was one of the biggest ones. Not that it had been the reason for the failure of their relationship, but at least he wouldn't have had to deal with this and despite all advice wonder how people perceived him and if he could still fulfill their expectations of him. Hell, he wondered if all the mistakes he'd done but the public wasn't aware of made him unqualified.
In the midst of all the turmoil in his life, his thoughts had often left the city limits and headed south. To Emily. If she was all right after her mother's death, if she needed a friend. She'd stopped taking his calls a few weeks back, but he hadn't been able to get her out of his head. Or choose a chief of staff.
Emily was without a doubt the best person for the job, not only because she came with the prior experience, connections and smarts required by the position, but because for her this wasn't about the public image he would project as VP, or how his conduct would affect Kirkman's presidency, but about him. She asked the right questions, gave him the space and freedom to be who he was.
If he'd consulted a single person on whether a friendship between the Vice President and his chief of staff was a smart thing to maintain, the answer would've probably been a resounding no, especially since apparently a surprisingly large group of people were aware of their... Whatever it was that it should be called. Emily had called it a drunken one-time mistake. If only it were that simple. Either way, people in the White House knew he'd cheated on Isabel with Emily.
She would be working for him, which meant absolutely no messing around. No scandals. No obscure rumors potentially spread by White House staff. No confronting Emily on whatever it was that lingered between them. That was the price to be paid just to have her back, and he'd sworn to himself that he would be willing to pay it.
Therefore he wasn't going to ask for anyone's opinion. As willing as he was to do anything in his power to avoid scandals, for the last couple of months he hadn't felt like he had anyone in his corner. Everyone had an agenda, another priority. Of course, this was something he should've been more than well aware of, based on his own prior work experience, but the realization and loneliness had still hit him like a ton of bricks. There was nobody he trusted more than Emily, and despite his past mistakes which he was not planning on repeating, he believed he couldn't be the best possible Vice President without a single person to trust.
It had taken him nearly two months to give up on Isabel for good, to reach the painful conclusion that he'd been trying to fix something that wasn't meant to be fixed. The revelation that she'd gone and apparently had sex with Seth (resulting in a pregnancy) after finding out about Emily had served as a wake-up call. In hindsight he was grateful for it. Self-awareness had never been his forte, but now he saw more clearly. He was going to be fine.
In fact, he was swearing off women entirely until he was no longer in office. After that... Some merely half sane part of his brain told him that he'd find himself at Emily's door, finally asking for that one honest talk. It was crazy, because although he was painfully aware of how difficult it was for her to let people close to her and trust them with her heart, surely she would have a family by that point.
A knock at the door drew Aaron out of his thoughts, and he sprung to his feet.
"Sir, Miss Rhodes is here," announced the intern he'd recruited to stay late because Emily hadn't been able to book an earlier flight.
"Thank you, please send her in."
Emily sailed into the room with a confident air, her head held up high, a smile on her face. It didn't quite reach her eyes and she looked tired, but he returned it nonetheless. She filled the room with the warmth and light he'd been missing ever since she'd left.
Fortunately they were alone, so he covered half of the distance between them and pulled her into a hug. Just like before, his head came to rest against the top of her head, followed by the achingly familiar scent of her hair filling his nose, his entire brain. She'd smelled like that then too, back when she'd kissed him outside his hotel room.
Clearing his throat, he broke the contact.
"Good to see you, Em."
"You should probably stop hugging me. You're my boss after all," she replied in a casual tone, and he didn't think she was joking.
"Should we get the paper work in order first?" She asked.
"Sure. It's all right there on my desk, go ahead and go through it, take as much time as you need. You want something to drink? Coffee?"
"Coffee's fine."
Leaving her alone in his office, he stepped into the adjoining room that would become Emily's office sooner rather than later. For now it had served as the designated spot for coffee and other essentials. Filling two cups, he returned to his office to find her sitting behind the desk, still leaning over the contract.
Funnily enough, he could see her sitting in that chair someday as Vice President.
"Here's your coffee."
Her head shot up, her eyes finding his, an amused twinkle in them. "Thank you."
Taking a seat on the couch, he watched as she perused the contract. "All should be as we agreed. It'll expire in a year."
Emily nodded, turning the page again. Soon after, she grasped the pen set beside the papers and signed the two copies. He accepted them from her, beaming. "You have no idea how glad I am that you're here," he admitted.
"I hope you'll still feel that way in a few months," she sighed, coming to sit on one of the chairs opposite to the couch. "I need to know what you want from me, Aaron. What you need me to be as your chief of staff. Of course I know the basics of the job description, but just tell me."
He couldn't help but take it as a loaded question, much like her "What do you want?" On That Night. He was grateful for both instances, just because Emily knew exactly what the right questions were. Deciding to go with the simplest answer he could think of, he inhaled deeply before replying.
"I need you to be my friend. I need someone in my corner at all times. You know who I am, and you don't want to change me. I don't want to lose track of... Of who I am anymore."
"I get it, but after-"
"I know things didn't end well with you and Kirkman, but I'm not him."
"No, you're not."
"You've already seen me at my worst, Em. At least I hope so."
"What we're doing here and what you're suggesting is kind of unconventional, as you know. And some people would call it a terrible idea."
"That may be true, but it's an honest answer to your great question. That's what you were looking for, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Can you do that for me, then?"
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes before finally nodding. "Yes."
Just as sure as he was that some things weren't meant to be fixed, he was sure that some things in life were meant to remain eternal mysteries, as nothing more but unrealized potential. Different paths that people chose not to take. You couldn't look behind a door when you'd already picked a different one, could you?
No, you couldn't. A year from now he would let Emily go if that was what she wanted, and he would wish all the best things in life for her. After what she'd been through with her dad abandoning her and then having to watch her mother die, she deserved so much. He could only hope she wouldn't be too scared to let those things happen to her.