So I wrote this chapter before I found out the Presidential residence area is served food by dumbwaiter. Therefore, I have decided to headcanon that dumbwaiters don't exist in the SU universe for no other reason than that I didn't want to rewrite the part of the chapter involving food arriving in the room. XD

Also, I feel this particular chapter may warrant a T rating, but I was hesitant to mark the entire story as such because I don't plan on doing anything this big that often.

A certain husband of a certain world leader was curled up on the couch under several blankets, eating a bowl of soup and watching his favorite comfort show, Crying Breakfast Friends.

As he ate, he had to admit, the availability of food and beverage in the White House was great; he could have practically any food delivered—right to the room if he wanted!

Which was exactly what he did, since at present he was much too sick to head down to the kitchen himself. He'd managed to get some warm, soothing lunch foods and had asked for a couple snack foods as well, in case he suddenly got an appetite for something other than a spoonful of broth, a warm cup of tea, and a plate of falling asleep on the couch.

He thanked the maid who had been gracious enough to bring him tea and something to keep it warm with, but as the maid opened the door to leave, an aide stepped in around him—not even waiting for the man to exit or move—her face wearing an urgent, terse, almost afraid look. The First Man sighed and muted the TV, taking a sip of the tea to soothe his throat as he waited for whatever she was about to say.

"Mister First Gentleman, sir?"

"Yes, Onika?" He sat the teacup down and waited expectantly for news he was suddenly getting the feeling was more ominous than he'd thought.

"There's been an assassination attempt on the President."

Steven's world stopped. His blood ran cold as he raked his hand through his hair and across his scalp. He needed to speak, to ask if she was okay, if she had been hurt… or worse…

But the only thing that escaped from his lips was silence.

Connie breathed a sigh of relief, finally at her destination, ready to give a speech and help out in a particularly conflicted area; there had been an internal town conflict that had spurred peaceful protests and civil counterdemonstrations, but those protests and demonstrations had in some areas devolved into yelling, fighting, and even violence. The town's story had gone nationwide, so they were being swarmed with even more people, some bent on trying to bring back peace, others… not.

Her statements from the capitol had been no help, and so she'd felt the need to get in the field, try to fix things at the source. It wasn't normally her prerogative to do that; other people were typically the sort of public relations fixers the White House would send when the government felt the need, but this felt like something she had to do herself.

Steven had wanted to come along with her, to help with the peacemaking, too, but he'd woken up with a gnarly case of the flu yesterday and she'd had to convince him to stay home, because he was in far too ill of a condition to help here.

Garnet had, out of nowhere, volunteered to come along, and Connie accepted the gem guest. As President, she was used to being a stranger in a strange place often, but it was nice when she could help it to have a familiar face, a friend, to stand beside her.

Or a foot or two above her, as the case was.

As they exited the car, Garnet fiddled with her visor, her face in deep thought. She wondered if Garnet was looking through her future vision, maybe for solutions to the fight perhaps? She wouldn't ask. It seemed rude. Garnet had lent her the vision before, a kiss to the forehead to show her possible outcomes of her decisions, but Garnet had always volunteered to those times. This Garnet was somehow simultaneously distracted and yet determinedly focused, and it was not the time to ask for something like that.

Especially not as they came across a rather unruly crowd of people bent on fighting against each other, stopping for no one in their way, not even the President. The Secret Service diverted them down a different path to where Connie would speak, and Connie pulled at her collar; she'd thought she was prepared for this, but was she sweating? Perhaps she was more nervous than she'd thought. She'd had her fair share of conflicts in her time in the presidency, but this felt like one of the worse ones.

They passed at least two more similar chunks of people before she arrived at the location of her press conference, a temporary stage erected in front of the city capitol building. City officials and police officers had taken their place on stage, and standing in front of it was a very divided crowd of people.

Connie wished Steven had been able to come; her head ached with the thoughts of all she'd have to do before she'd have to return to the White House, and she didn't know if she could do it alone, or even with Garnet.

Speaking of, her thoughtful expression had turned to concern, the large gem making an audible "Hmm…"

"Garnet? Is there something… up?"

"The future… it's very… uncertain."

"Isn't it always?" She gave a lighthearted scoff, but the taller being before her kept her stoic expression.

She made her way behind the stage and spoke with some officers and the mayor. The group was happy to be working with her for the week, and they hoped to achieve an understanding between the two groups and foster an atmosphere of caring and listening within the community.

A noble cause, and Connie was all for it.

She discussed ideas for getting it there, and the group seemed willing to consider them further. Of course, most of the hairy details would be hammered out at meetings after the initial press conference, and then she'd work with the community for a few days to get the agreed-upon ideas in place, but this willingness was a better start than she could have ever expected.

She smiled as the group took the stage. The police officers opened the conference, with some reminders about crowd behavior, not that anyone was really willing to follow the rules set forth. The mayor came next, expressing her feelings on the conflict and transitioning into Connie's speech with a personal appeal that the crowd choose unity. Connie rubbed a temple and made a mental note to tweak part of her speech based on the mayor's remarks.

She cleared her throat as she moved closer to the podium. She'd scarcely opened her mouth to breathe in before speaking her first sentence when a shout from Garnet cut the air like a razor blade.

"Connie, duck!"

Garnet, in the span of a few hundredths of a second, made a decision to move toward Connie rather than in the direction of the perpetrator of what would happen next. She launched herself in front of the President right as the bam of a bullet leaving a gun pierced the confused din.

The projectile hit the fusion, slowing as it made its way into her, enough so that it did not hit the woman behind her. Garnet only just looked back toward her before poofing, retreating to her gems to regenerate. Part of the once-unruly crowd stopped their bickering—at least temporarily—to gaze in confused awe; that didn't mean it was any quieter, though, considering the other part of the crowd had turned to panicked screaming at the event that had just unfolded.

Connie barely had time to grab Garnet's two halves before she was ushered off the stage by the Secret Service. A shiver ran up her spine, and she knew once they'd arrived to a safe place that they'd have a lot to talk about.

She was tired.

Though she had to admit, at least she wasn't dead.

Once Steven gained the composure to speak again, he managed to squeak out a "Is she—?" before coughing several times; drying your throat out by hanging your mouth open in shock did that to you.

"She's not dead, or even hurt. But we thought you should know… Garnet took the hit instead."

His forehead creased in thought as he sipped some tea once more. He was worried for Garnet, but he was elated for Connie and knew Garnet would be okay as long as she hadn't taken a hit to the gem.

"…It didn't hit either of her hands, did it?"

"No, sir."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "…Okay. Have the gems call me when Ruby and Sapphire reform."

The aide nodded and noted something in her planner.

"By the way, Madame President is returning to the White House early."

"…Right. Because of what happened…"

"Actually, no. She was willing to stay even after all that." The aide shrugged.

"Really? …Then why's she coming back? Did the Secret Service make her?"

"No," the aide smirked. "You just got her sick."

Well… I wasn't planning on including this sort of plot before this afternoon, but here's hoping I did it justice…