"Maybe it frightened them, to admit that a woman could be the master of her fate."

-Nenia Campbell, Black Beast

Chapter 2: Defiance
Character: America (Emily Jones)

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Men are horrible, terrible creatures.

This was Emily's mantra as she was doing stupid-ass paperwork for the massive idiot known as her boss. Ronald Reagan was really problematic, and she was stuck with him for at least 4 years, if not 8. Idiot was popular in her people's eyes.

But, sitting at the secretary's desk, instead of her damn office, she felt a deep hatred growing within her. He was definitely anti-woman. Anti-Emily. He hated that his nation was a woman. He actually told her that she wouldn't be doing anything in the White House any longer. She told him that she was required. He replied that she could be a secretary for a lower level official. Emily fudged a little bit, saying that she had to be his secretary if she was to be secretary.

Well, it had worked. That was good enough for now. But now, she had to wear a damn uniform. Reagan had said her chosen clothes were too risqué for a secretary. Oh, how her very blood boiled. How dare he! How dare he! She, America, was a damn nation!

She was now in a knee-length pencil skirt, a stupid frilly blouse, and her short hair was put into a small bun. Holy fuck. She actually felt like a secretary in this.

She couldn't live like this. For real though.

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It began as small things. Just little, minuscule things that would piss him off. For example, wearing a tacky piece of jewelry around her neck with a crude phrase on it. Wearing a tie with a nice shirt instead of a blouse.

Then it grew into larger things.

Emily blasting Blondie at her desk, on a big ass stereo. Growing more bold, she chose more risqué music. More punk.

She shaved her head one day, coming in like that and seeing his eyes basically pop out of his skull.

At UN meetings, she would go wearing a man's suit. That really pissed him off.

She dyed her hair bright fucking pink when it grew back. Not her tips, not highlights. The whole shebang was pink. Not light pink either. Hot, magenta, annoying, demanding they recognize her presence.

Then, she got a perm. Her hair was now a giant fluff ball, and it was worth it for her to hear him tell her to shave it off again. "I'd rather not." She said flippantly. "Yanno, I'm only bound to you in terms of things like….hmm….actual politics?" That really pissed him off.

She ended up going out to protest recent women's rights infringements- such as his slashing of funding for government investigation of sexual discrimination. It was basically turning a blind eye to all those disgusting men who took advantage of women's place in the workplace and then, worse, winked and shook those men's head. Women's encounters of discrimination and harassment was only going up, which was terrible.

America was pissed, and she was completely rebelling.

She was defiant to her boss as much as she could. She was testing her limits as to her obedience.

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Holy fuck, Reagan was dumb. She was reading a report he was writing on the Strategic Defense Initiative. Or the Star Wars Defense.

Really? A fucking FORCE FIELD that would somehow magically block all the nukes Russia could fire at her?

"But Reagan, science!" America muttered to herself, filing her nails. It was terrible. She was so incredibly amazed that one man could be so dumb.

What was worse was that, was that Gorbachev and Russia were taking him completely seriously.

Reagan was the one standing in front of nuclear disarmament.

It was terrible.

She went to the meeting of the UN, only to have to stay quiet while Russia urged her to convince Reagan to give up his idea.

Oh. If only. Emily smiled, telling her she would try.

Russia looked tired, smiling at her. America nodded, and left the meeting.

She didn't know what was to happen within a year.

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The day had come. The day she was seeing the fucker leave office. She had planned this day for a long time. She had invited him to a "mandatory event" for her bosses as they left her. Oh. Yes.

She was rocking that perm she had gotten, wearing full on dancewear, a bow tie, and a sequined top.

Reagan gave her the most confused look as the dramatic piano introduction from Gloria Gaynor's "I will survive" started to play.

She started to dance around in her roller skates, giving him looks here and there as she rocked right in front of him, and the man she recognized as her new problem, George H. W. Bush.

She kept rocking it, glaring her now ex-boss down as the lyrics sang her sentiments.

"Go on now, go, walk out that door!" She went over to him, pushing his stupid ass away. "Just turn around now‚ cause you're not welcome any more." She took her hair out of the bun he always insisted on her wearing, the perm making her hair bounce around. "Weren't you the one who tried to hurt (crush) me with goodbye? Did I crumble? Did I lay down and die?"

She did a full turn on her roller skates.

"Oh no, not I! I will survive! Oh and as long as I know how to love I know I stay alive. I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give. And I'll survive! I will survive! Hey Hey!" She kept dancing until the song stopped, and then gave him a superior look.

"I know you tried hard to make me meaningless, Reagan. But I hope you know that you failed. And you have demonstrated to your successor what he'll have to deal with." She flippantly turned her back on them, stalking off in triumph, the song "Eye of the Tiger" starting to play in the background.

"What the fuck is wrong with our nation?" Bush said in disgust.

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As Republicans in Congress driveled on about their anti-woman policies, Emily simply stared them down. Basically every single one of them had voted against equal pay for equal work.

Emily was disgusted. Their own nation was a woman.

Did they think she didn't deserve as much pay as a male nation!?

She made an anonymous call to the head of the Republican party. Her voice was put through the Anonymous voice box. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my rights go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will destroy you."

And with that, she hung up.

Men are horrible, terrible creatures, she thought to herself in satisfaction.

Thank god she wasn't one of them!

Thank God she could defy them.

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A/N: Alright! Please leave a review! I love to hear feedback!