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Francis yawned as he walked down the hallway from the bathroom towards his and Claire's bedroom for the night. His path was rerouted though as a smile grew on his lips, hearing his daughter let out a true genuine laugh from downstairs. Peering over the railing, he could see lights flashing from inside the living room. He quickly went to the bedroom, only stepping in enough to see Claire tucking their unpacked bags in the closet. "What is James doing?"

Claire slid the door shut and began removing her jewelry. "I think she mentioned that she was watching a movie with Doug. I told her to tell me what movie they picked once they decided. We could join them."

"I'd rather her not spend any more time alone with Doug." Francis nodded before extending his hand, ignoring Claire's smirk as she took his hand and followed him downstairs. They both stopped in the doorway, surrounded in darkness, to see what the two were up to.

Doug started searching through the movies for something decent to watch, his arm draped over the back of the couch where James was sitting with a bowl of popcorn cradled in her lap. "What do you want to watch? Drama, action, comedy."

James snuggled into the cushions, nearly being submerged in the oversized couch. "I don't know. What's your favorite movie?"

"The Godfather." Doug breathed without skipping a beat. "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse. That could probably be the summary of my job title." He smiled when James laughed, briefly muffling the noise in his chest. "It's seriously one of the greatest films of all time."

James shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders. "I've never seen it."

"That doesn't surprise me." Doug stated, continuing to scroll through the movies. "Your cinema history knowledge is horrible. You still don't know what Barney is." He grunted with a chuckle when she smacked his chest playfully. "Well, it's true."

James shook her head, reaching for another bundle of popcorn. "Then, educate me. Let's watch The Godfather. How long is it?"

Doug found the movie and grinned. "Three hours."

"Three hours?" James asked, wide eyed. "Do you know how much I could get done in three hours?"

"In the middle of the night without a computer, not much." Doug retorted before kissing her cheek. "That's why I'm here."

James laughed and grabbed the remote from him. "You're lucky I love you." She cuddled into his side and grabbed her phone. "Let me just ask my parents if they want to watch it too. What's it about anyway?"

Francis decided to intrude on them then, leading Claire to the couch beside them. "The Godfather, eh? I haven't seen this movie since before I was in politics. Has to have been college." He wrapped his arm around Claire as she turned her back to him and leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "Good choice."

James smiled as she hit the play button, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. "Alright, then. This should be interesting."

"We'll be lucky if we're all awake by the time Al Pacino takes part in the family business." Claire hummed, relaxing into Francis. She tangled her hand with his that crossed over her body. She smiled feeling his lips press against the back of her head. "From one corrupted family to the next."

Francis chuckled, his lungs making Claire shake slightly from his amusement. "To our family, this is educational."

Francis was the first to wake up, the rising sun outside the windows shining directly on his face. He used his free hand to shield his eyes before blinking and looking around the room. They had all fallen asleep during the movie. The TV was back to The Godfather menu. All the popcorn bowls were empty. Claire was huddled against him under a blanket. On the other couch to his left, Doug and James lay with a blanket over them. Doug was on his back, his arms protectively holding his daughter who was sprawled out over top of him, the way she normally slept in a bed by herself.

His heart clenched remembering the days when he would hold his infant daughter against his chest as she slept. Soothed her to sleep when she had a nightmare. Shielded her from journalists when she was just a child with her innocence fully intact. Many of his shirts turned into her tissues when she'd have a cold or started crying. Other than Claire, he'd been her only safe haven. She knew that he'd do whatever he could to make her feel better or protect her.

Francis looked to the front door when Claire walked in carrying three year old James on her hip. James was holding out her hands with tear stains on both her cheeks. Her bottom lip pouted out and trembled as if she was about to burst into tears at any second. When he saw the blood on her little hands, he rushed over. "Oh my God! What happened?"

"A boy pushed her off the swings at the playground. She fell down on the wood chips and cut up her hands." Claire sighed, hugging James against her chest. "Can you get the first aid kit?" Francis nodded before hurrying to the bathroom. "The boy was a monster. He's probably fourteen or fifteen. He just came out of no where and shoved her. I yelled at him, but he ran away before I could really do anything."

"I should've been there. I could have taken care of the little menace." Francis gritted out as he returned. He met James's puffy blue eyes and brushed her hair away from them. "We're going to get you all patched up, darlin'."

Claire sighed as they moved to the living room, holding James in her lap while Francis started cleaning and bandaging the multiple cuts on their daughter's hands. "Handling a teenage boy would only raise flags. He'll get his eventually."

Francis kissed each of James's patched up palms. "We don't wait for eventually." He leaned forward and blew a raspberry against James's stomach, happy to hear her squeal with laughter and squirm in Claire's arms. While she was distracted, he lifted up the legs of her pants to check her knees for any scrapes. Satisfied that she was okay otherwise, he closed up the first aid kit. "We'll take these off before your bath tonight."

James reached for Francis, curling up against his shoulder when he picked her up from Claire's lap. "Mean boy, Daddy."

Claire rubbed her daughter's back soothingly. "I have a few buildings to go look at for my new headquarters. You're still good to watch her this afternoon, right?"

"Of course." Francis nodded. "I'll take her out for some ice cream."

"Yes, get some sugar in her before her nap. That should be pleasant." Claire smirked before kissing his cheek. "Have fun though."

Francis smiled at her as she hurried upstairs to change. He rubbed James's back as he headed for his things, her face tucked into his neck. "C'mon, darlin', Daddy's going to take care of the problem for you. We're going back to the park."

In the car, James played with her toys while sitting in her carseat. Francis glanced back at her in the rearview mirror before pulling up alongside the park. It was somewhat secluded. It was why he and Claire had taken James to it. The trees blocked most of the eyes from the surrounding buildings and roads. "Do you see the boy that pushed you, James?"

James leaned her head out, looking around the park and pointing towards the swings. "On the swings!"

"Alright," Francis breathed, glancing around the playground to check for anyone else. When he couldn't see any other person, he turned in his seat to look at James. "Darlin', Daddy is going to go talk to that boy so he doesn't hurt you again. I'm going turn on your music. Whatever you do, don't watch Daddy. Just play with your toys."

"Okay, Daddy." James smiled before returning to making noises for her toys.

Francis climbed out of the car and locked it behind him before cracking the windows a little bit. Verifying no one else was around once more, he marched up behind the boy on the swing and grabbed his collar. "We need to talk, son."

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" The boy asked. Claire was right. He was probably fourteen or fifteen. Maybe even sixteen with the little facial hair that was coming in.

"The little girl you pushed off the swings today was my daughter." Francis stated as he dragged the boy over towards the spring riders sticking out of the wood chips. "I don't like it when people hurt my daughter."

The boy tried to twist out of Francis's grip. "It was a joke, man. I didn't think she'd cry. She was on the high swings anyway. She was supposed to stay on the low swings."

Francis looked the boy in the eyes. "My daughter doesn't have to do anything." Before the teenager could say anymore, he slammed the boy's head into the spring rider shaped like a horse. His skull cracked against the horse's saddle before his body went limp against the ground. When Francis saw the blood pouring out from a wound in the boy's head, he glanced around once more before darting back to the car.

When he got back inside, he pulled out onto the road as if nothing had happened. "What kind of ice cream do you want, darlin'?"

"Mint." James gave him a toothy grin. "What about boy?"

"He won't ever hurt you again." Francis stated, wiping his brow.

Now, she was laying on Doug's chest. She had another person who could soothe her and shield her. She had another safe haven. He knew in the back of his mind that the day would eventually come. Despite his inner quarrels about having a child, he couldn't bare to give her up to any man just yet. Doug would care for her the way he'd want someone to care for his daughter, but she was still his. She'd always be his. His blood ran through her veins, and his voice rang in her head loud and clear. For now, she was still his and Claire's.

"You're sending me away?" James asked, wide eyed as she stood in front of her parents. "Why are you sending me away? I'm not pregnant. I don't need to be hidden from the public. I deserve to be here just as much as you two do."

Claire held up her hands. "We know that. You are a big reason for us being here in the first place." She rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "We just think, for the sake of appearance, it might be better to leave D.C. for a long weekend. Your father and Doug are going to be too busy working anyway for us to spend any time with them. I think everyone would understand given what they believe happened."

James frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "For appearances, I get that part. But, why are we going to her house? I don't even know her. She calls once a year around Christmas to tell me I'm growing up as a woman in, and I quote, 'all the wrong ways'."

Francis let out a chuckle, trying to calm down his daughter when her jaw dropped and Claire glared at him. He quickly coughed, hitting his chest with his fist a couple times. "Something got caught in my throat." He walked around the bed, joining Claire in confronting their daughter. "Darlin', we just think that it would be a good idea. The press won't leave you alone. You've been getting calls about exclusive stories, and the world thinks you were discovered this past weekend."

"Is this about all the things you're making Doug keep from me?" James questioned. Her parents both stood silent, but their silence spoke volumes. "Is Garrett's involvement in all this really that bad?"

Francis opened his mouth to speak, but huffed out a breath when he was lost for words. Claire saw his hesitance and stepped in. "The whole situation is bad. We're not sure how bad it is yet, but it's already bad news and could get substantially worse." She cupped James's face in her hands. "Once we get back, the detectives on the case will most likely come by to ask you about what they have found. Your father and Doug will have found new information. With the amount of attention circling you and my job title limited to First Lady as of right now, we'll both be useless around here until then."

Leaning closer, Francis kissed his daughter's cheek and bent down slightly to meet her eyes. "It's not a punishment. We're just trying to protect you for as long as possible. Besides, our things will be moved into the White House tonight. By the time you come back, the staff will have arranged your room for you."

James sighed, crossing her arms over her chest in resignation. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you get your bags packed and say goodbye to Doug." Claire stated. "There's a plane waiting for us. I've already called your school. They were more than understanding under the circumstances."

James rolled her eyes as she walked away. "They should be kissing my feet. I lost my virginity for this country." She smirked when Francis cringed. "Congrats again, Daddy."

Claire grinned as her daughter left her and Francis's temporary bedroom before turning to her husband, seeing his discomfort with his daughter's words. "Oh, quit with that face. This job is already turning your hair gray. We don't need the worry lines to start too." She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning against him slightly. "I don't know if she'll really enjoy these days away from home."

"I suggested the Gaffney house." Francis brought up again. "I can make one phone call, and it will be ready for you."

Claire shook her head. "No, the press will expect us to go there. I haven't been to my mother's since before James was born. There's privacy there." She pressed her forehead to his, sighing contently when his arms wrapped around her waist. "But, my mother is also there."

"Just don't let what she says get to you. You know where you stand. She can't tell you that you're a horrible wife or mother or anything. You're far better than she's ever been." Francis said, trying to soothe his wife's nerves. He pecked her lips, knowing that his words wouldn't do much when it came to her mother. To say their relationship was strained was an understatement, and he loathed the woman for making his wife doubt herself when it came to being a human being. "You swore that you would never let your relationship with our daughter be anything like your relationship with your mother. James adores you."

Claire smiled, happy that she had at least completed that goal. It was the one thing she had been terrified about all through her pregnancy. Despite how different her mother and her were, she was worried that her mother's examples of motherhood would somehow leak into her own. She was forever thankful it hadn't. "Well, she'll probably hate us both for taking her to meet her grandmother."

Francis laughed, causing her to smile. "She'll get over it when she comes home to the White House and her bedroom is already set up for her. Twice the size of the one she has now." He pulled back from her and smiled when she caressed his cheek. "There's still time to change your mind. It doesn't even have to be the Gaffney house. You could go anywhere."

"No," Claire shook her head, "if I take our daughter somewhere even remotely exciting, she'll attempt an escape. At least, I know all the ways to escape that house. I can keep an eye on her. I don't know if she's fully processed what all has happened yet, and we'll need her in the right place if we're going to tell her about Garrett and Gordon once we return."

Francis nodded, knowing that the information would be a lot for his daughter to take. "We'll take it by day. You update me on our girl. I'll update you on what Doug and I find out about the Walker family."

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