The next several weeks went by in the blur, as Lauren divided her time between work and late night phone calls. After her "dinner date" at the White House, she spent the weekend in a daze, wondering when she would see Ben again. On Sunday, as she got ready for bed, an unknown number called her. Debating on answering or letting the phone ring, Lauren quickly answered it before it went to voicemail.

"You wouldn't believe how hard it was, just to get an Iphone," Ben greeted her. "I had to send Lucy out to get the damn thing for me and I don't even know how to work it!"

They talked that night until the early morning hours, which would've been frowned upon, if the general public found out. The President of the United States, staying up all night to talk to a woman. One who wasn't his wife or girlfriend.

"If you ever want to talk, I'll have this phone on me," Ben said, after they both realized it was a quarter to four in the morning. "If I don't call or send a message back right away, it's because I'm either in a meeting with the Prime Minister of Grenada. Or hiding from Banning, since he has no idea I even have this thing."

Two weeks before Thanksgiving however, Lauren found herself back at the White House. This time, sitting in the Oval Office, after being escorted from her home by a group of secret service agents.

"What's going on?" Lauren asked, as she was brought into the room, surprising Ben in the process. "Do they think I'm some kind of like... domestic terrorist? Because, I'm not! Just because I watch CSI on my days off, doesn't mean I'm plotting or something!"

"I have no idea," Ben said, standing before her. "I was going to call you later to see if you were busy tonight..."

The door to the office opened and in walked Mike, carrying a manilla folder in his hands. "Ah! Good," he said, nodding to the two of them. "Just in time!"

"What's the meaning of this, Banning?" Ben asked, frowning at the head of his security detail.

"It's about how completely reckless you've been acting, since we visited that school," Mike said, as Lauren sat down on one of the sofas. "And I found out about the Iphone, Sir. Which was quite surprising, since you can barely text on blackberry..."

Ben scoffed, "You pulled a civilian out of their home, because I've been talking to them on a private phone?" he asked. "Really? How is that being reckless?"

Mike sat down on the sofa across from Lauren, opening the folder that he held. "Because if anyone were to find out about your secret, late night phone calls, the press would have a field day," he started. "Lauren Rosalie Fiore, born December 15th, 1983, to Joseph Fiore and Maureen Fiore. Lived in Northport, New York and graduated in 2001 from Northport High School, before enrolling at NYU for a BA in childhood education..."

"Wow, and this information about my life is an interest to you, because?" Lauren started, glaring at him. "You could've looked me up on Facebook and found that all out, you know. It would've saved your buddies the gas and their time, which was wasted to come to my house to get me and bring me here. I mean, I'm not even dressed to be at the White House! I don't even have a bra on for christsakes!"

"Lovely," Mike muttered, before turning his attention back to the file before him. "Attended Cortland University for the graduate program," he continued. "You've been working at Hearst Elementary for almost three years..."

"Mike," Ben stopped him, holding his hand up. "What is this all about? Really?"

Mike looked up at him, "I figured you'd want to know more about your girlfriend," he shrugged.

"You found me out!" Lauren said, throwing her hands up in the air, before turning to look at Ben. "Ben, you're actually dating a real life alien," she said solemnly. "I'm from the former planet of Pluto."

Mike ignored her comment and continued, "I'm just saving you the time, getting all the nitty gritty details out," he shrugged. "This is a huge security breach, if you two were to go public. You couldn't possibly begin to understand how the media would pounce on this. The president's secret, late night phone calls with a mystery woman? Private text messages, emails, photos being hacked and leaked to the public?"

Ben sighed, "And after two," Mike turned his attention to Ben. "Two assassination attempts, I figured you'd be smart about this and follow proper protocol!"

Lauren rolled her eyes, "I'm not a goddamn terrorist!" she snapped. "I can't even kill a spider,so what makes you think I could kill a person?"

"This was uncalled for," Ben shook his head. "While I do understand your concerns, this wasn't right. And I knew just about all of that, by the way. That's what people do on dinner dates, Mike. I may've been out of the dating scene for a long time, but I'm not a moron."

"Then you wouldn't be surprised to learn that she hates politicians?" Mike asked, feigning innocence. "So, she probably hates you."

Ben shrugged, "I hate a lot of them too, Mike," he shot back. "What's your point."

"Are you pissed because I didn't vote when he first ran for president?" Lauren asked. "Because I'm sure it says there in that file you have on me, that I didn't vote. That instead, I sat in a hospital on election day when my niece went for her first of many heart surgeries three weeks after she was born."

This silenced Mike, while surprising Ben. "Or that I hate most politicians because they either lie or get us into wars, that we really shouldn't be getting into," Lauren continued. "Or that men that are probably older that fossils, like to make decisions on what women do with their bodies, by using WebMD and the fucking Bible as a credible source. So yeah, Mike, I don't like most politicians and I choose my family over voting. So go on. Arrest me for being a shitty excuse for an American."

Lauren stood up, "I stopped caring about politics after my brother and father died, after a plane slammed into their office, fifteen years go," she said. "I stopped caring about politics, after I watched them die from my dorm room and I stopped caring when they sent us to war two years later. War doesn't bring back the dead, Mike. It only brings more death and destruction."

"Lauren.." Ben started, as she headed for the door.

She paused, her hand on the door knob. "And for the record," she said, turning to look back on them. "I voted for Ben when he for his second term, because I like him."

Mike looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "Bet your little investigation didn't bring that up, huh?" Lauren asked, before pulling the door open.

"Nice," Ben snapped, as the door slammed behind her. "Thanks, Mike."

"Ben.." Mike started, as he went after her. "Dammit!"

...

Lauren quickly moved down the hallway, dodging staff members, as they moved from office to office. "Sorry," she muttered, nearly colliding with a frazzled secretary.

"Lauren!"

She shook her head, trying to move as fast as she could, which was difficult with slippers on her feet. A hand on her arm stopped her, as Ben pulled her down another hallway, leading her into an empty staff room.

"I want to go home," was the first thing she said, as he closed the door behind them. "You should really report that douchebag!" was the next thing out of her mouth. "I don't understand what the whole point of that was!"

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I understand his concerns, but he went about this the wrong way."

Lauren wrapped her arms around her torso, "I don't hate you," she said quietly, looking down at the floor. "I just don't like politics, which is why this is complicated."

He nodded, "How complicated are we talking about?" he asked, as she sighed.

"I hate politics and most of the politicians in this country," she started, running her hands across her face. "But there's this guy and I really like him, but he's a politician and a very important one at that."

"It's just a job," he shrugged. "A title. I was a lawyer before this, Lauren. Then, I found myself in Congress, before getting the great idea to run for President. It's a job, but I'm more than just a politician. And I'm not going to be a politician forever, you know."

She managed a laugh, "Why didn't you say anything about your dad and brother?" he asked. "It doesn't change the way I see you, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's just.. raw," she shrugged. "You don't get over it, you know? It's been fifteen years, but I relive it almost everyday. I close my eyes and I'm that 17 year old, college freshman, standing in her dorm room and watching her father and brother die before her eyes."

He pictured Margaret, strapped into the backseat of the limo; her face covered in blood and her eyes filled with fear, as the limo slipped over the edge and fell into the icy depths blow. "Yeah," he said gruffly, nodding. "I know what you mean."

Seeing that her trauma with death brought up a bad memory, Lauren shook her head. "I should go," she said quietly.

"I want to see you again," he said quickly , surprising her. "Don't let Mike's moment of idiocy force you to make a decision."

"Are you asking me to date you?" Lauren asked, feeling the rising joy as Ben blushed. She gasped, "Youare!"

Ben huffed, "Would you rather I say it instead of implying?" he asked. "I'm a widow, Lauren. I haven't properly dated in almost twenty years..."

She giggled. "Okay," she nodded, surprising not only herself, but him as well. "But.. how is this going to work? We can't just... go to the movies or out to dinner like other people do. And like Mike said: the media. Think of how crazy the world would get, if you got photographed doing the walk of shame from my house."

"Why would I be the one doing the walk of shame?" he asked, frowning.

"Only to protect your image, Mr. President," she teased. "So, I guess if we're doing this... dating thing, we'll have to be quiet about it for a while, huh?"

He nodded, "Trust me," he said. "If I wasn't the President, I would be calling everyone right now."

Lauren snorted, "Lucky you," she sighed. "I wouldn't tell a soul. If my mother found out, she would probably have wedding invitations made up before I could even introduce you to her..."

'Mothers," he teased, making her laugh. "I'll have someone drive you home, that way you can go back to watching CSI. Though, I pictured you more of a Grey's Anatomy kinda girl."

"I watch that too," she admitted, blushing. "Will you call me later? Or do you want me to call?"

Ben nodded "I'll call," he promised. "And, don't worry about Mike too much, okay? He's an idiot, but he does mean well. Even though he has a shitty way of showing it sometimes."

Lauren sighed, "I'll try my best to be nice, but I can't promise anything," she warned. "And if he wanted the full account of my life, all he had to do was ask you if he cares so much about who you're dating."

"I'll make sure to remind him of his manners," he chuckled, moving forward to kiss her forehead. "Come on. Let's get you home, before something else happens to scare you off."

...

Later that day, after a hot shower and spending most of her Saturday afternoon in front of the television, Lauren waited for the phone to ring. While she waited, she managed to get the laundry done and put away, cleaned out Onyx's litter box and sorted through the pile of paperwork that sat in her work bag for weeks. At a quarter to six, her phone began to ring.

"Hello?" she answered, almost breathlessly.

"Hey," Ben greeted her. "Were you running?"

Lauren sat down on the arm of the sofa, "Me? Run?" she scoffed. "Why would I do that to myself?"

He laughed, "Oh god, I guess that rules you out as my running partner," he said, making her smile. "So, what are you doing tonight?"

"Well, I was debating between going to bed early or watching on of the many movies that Netflix just released today," she sighed. "Such a tough choice, you know?"

"Well, how about we watch a movie?" he asked. "Unless you rather go to bed early, which is fine. I could just take this pizza and head home."

She perked up, "Wh.. wait," she started, as he chuckled. "Pizza? A-are you outside?"

Getting up, Lauren rushed to the window and peeked out through the blinds, shocked to find a black SUV parked outside her house. "Holy fuck," she muttered, moving away from the window.

"Are you gonna let me in or not?" he asked. "It's freezing out here."

Rushing to the front door, Lauren quickly unlocked it and pulled it open, finding Ben standing on her front porch; dressed down in track pants and sneakers, he held a pizza box in his hands and wore a triumphant smile on his face.

"You're crazy," Lauren said, pushing the screen door open. "H-how did you get a pizza?"

"Well, you typically call ahead and order them," he said, as stepped into her house. "I got half cheese, half everything. Wasn't sure what you liked."

Locking the door behind her, Lauren hung up her phone and placed it on the hall table. "It's pizza. I'd eat just about anything on a pizza."

He nodded, "Good to know," he said. "Kitchen's that way?"

"Yeah," Lauren nodded, as he started through her house. "Just ignore the mess on the kitchen table. It's all work related."

On the counter, Onyx sat patiently, eyeing Ben. "Who's this?" Ben asked, setting the box down on the stove.

"Onyx," Lauren said, grabbing plates out of the cabinet. She watched as he removed his jacket and shoes, setting them by the kitchen table, before heading over to the counter. "If you don't like cats, I can bring him upstairs to my room."

Ben reached out and carefully rubbed the cat on the head, chuckling as Onyx began to purr. "I think he's good," Ben said, looking at her with a shrug. "Hi Onyx, I'm Ben."

Meowing, Onyx stood and began to walk back and forth, rubbing against his palm. "Huh," Lauren shook her head. "That's amazing, considering he hates just about everyone else besides me."

Setting a slice on each plate, Lauren grabbed two bottles of beer out of the fridge and led him to the living room. "What are we watching?" Ben asked, sitting down on the couch next to her; Onyx took that moment, to jump onto the coffee table; laying across the old magazines, licking at his paws.

"Not sure," Lauren shrugged, picking up the remote. "What are you in the mood for? Romantic comedy? Documentary? Horror?"

"As long as it doesn't involve a fictional version of myself being shot at, I'm good" he joked, as the home screen of Netflix popped up. "But I do see that you're a fan of foreign films."

Lauren shrugged and handed him the remote, "You pick something," she said, as he took it from her. "I'm pretty open to anything."

"Anything?"

"Well, I'm dating you, so that should answer your question," she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "Pick before I make you watch something horribly sappy. Like Steel Magnolias."