Last chapter was shorter than most and this one is almost 2 times as long. Hope it makes up for it! Playlist for this chapter includes "Lay Me Down With Paper Hearts" by SoCal VoCals, "Sous le Ciel de Paris" by Edith Piaf, and "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" sung by Judy Garland. None of which I own (no surprise there haha)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Christine Gallagher stood before a full-length mirror and nervously smoothed out the fabric of her formal attire. The dress costed more than her old pay check. It was a very dark pine green that went from her shoulders to her ankles. The material was a combination of satin and lace. She had to admit that she liked the way the lace patterns dulled the shine of the satin underneath. The skirt flared out around her, came together snuggly around her waist, and relied entirely on the lace above her bosom until it reached down her arms and ended at her wrists. She remembered thinking that the dress from the previous year would be the nicest outfit she would ever own. How very wrong she had been.

Her light golden hair had been pulled up into what appeared to be a loose and comfortable twist with a thick lock that lay curled over her shoulder. While the appearance looked fashionable yet effortless, it had been anything but. She had sat in her vanity chair for over an hour waiting on Meg to complete the look and that did not include the time it took to set all of her makeup in place. Meg had done just as fine a job as she always had while at the same time balancing the art of delicate appearance and sturdy construction. The final touch had been yet another new and lavishly expensive gift from Erik: a matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace. The glowing gems dripped from her ears and seemed to fall effortlessly over her collarbone. Throughout it all, Christine couldn't help but wonder to herself whether or not she recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror.

Once all makeup had been placed and Meg had done an equally stunning job on herself, Meg joined her best friend in the mirror and lightly hugged her waist from behind.

"Look at you, Chris," she said warmly.

Christine looked away and back to her friend who sported a bright red and immaculately tight a-frame dress with a sweetheart cut and exposed shoulders. "I think everyone is going to be looking at you."

"God I can only hope so! I've got my eye on someone this year. Not sure if they're seeing someone or not but you can bet I'll know by the end of the night."

"Them?" Christine asked off-handedly as she looked back into the mirror.

"They're non-binary. I couldn't tell you what they were even born with and if I'm being honest, I don't even care."

Christine laughed lightly, "Who is this?"

"Only the most famous hairstylist on the east coast: Logan Turner." Meg smiled and appeared to take her time in the vision of this person before continuing, "I'll be sure to point them out. But you'll probably know once you see the - hands-down - most attractive person there."

"I'll keep an eye out," Christine smiled.

Both women looked back into the mirror for a few moments. With clouded and overrun thoughts, Christine asked wistfully, "Has it only been a year, Meg?"

"I'm not sure anymore. The two of us sure did make a ten-year jump in just a few months."

"That's what I mean," Christine turned to her friend, "Look at me. Look at this dress - and god - how much money do I have around my neck right now?"

"Trust me," Meg slyly smiled, "You don't want to know. But I'll tell you that this outfit has been the most expensive yet. That's all you need to know."

Christine looked back to the mirror painfully, "It's not me, Meg. How much of me am I going to lose while I'm Erik's…his…whatever we are."

Meg took her friend's hand and caught her attention, "First of all, maybe you should be looking less at what you think you lost and more at what you've gained? Or maybe think of the exchange instead. And Chris, I swear you're still you. I know a lot of fake people and I can be one sometimes but you? You're always just as true as ever. And I love that. I've always seen that in you and I've always admired it."

Christine squeezed her friend's hand, "You mean that?"

"Why else would I say it?"

"Oh Meg," Christine hugged her friend so tight and so long that she could feel Meg squirm a little from the time.

"You okay, chica?"

"Yes, yes," Christine said taking a step away and looking out of the window instead.

"You sure…?"

"Meg?" Christine asked quietly, "If all this has happened in a year…how is the rest of the time here going to go? What all do you think could happen? And Meg what if it's longer than…well then…"

"What do you mean?" Meg asked quietly as she took a step towards her friend, "Like if Erik runs for re-election?"

"I don't know. What if this goes on for longer? Past the White House?"

"Why would it…?"

Christine looked lost as she stared out onto the lawn.

Meg repeated herself, "Christine, why would it? Has something changed?"

With heavy hooded eyes, the First Lady to-be turned around, "I've changed. My feelings…have changed. You know that. I haven't said it but you have to known that."

Meg smiled kindly, "That doesn't have to be a bad thing."

Christine turned away quickly and tried to hide the shake in her voice, "It is, Meg. He is so good at playing the game, but he told me he could never feel anything…anything potentially serious."

"You're kidding me," she clipped back skeptically.

"I'm not. He's always been clear about it. He told me this when he proposed and it wasn't to be mean. He was being honest. I knew this and I've put myself in such a stupid place. I've seen the photos. I blush all the time and god he drives me crazy whenever he speaks a certain way. I can't explain it and I hate it because I know he doesn't feel the same."

"Listen to me for a minute, okay? And please, don't get any more worked up on this because that makeup job is going to be my opening tonight when I meet Logan and I can't have it smeared." Meg winked at Christine so she caught the joke, "Hear me out: Underwood is a brilliant politician. I even like him as a person sometimes, but you can never tell him that. But do you know what Underwood isn't good at? Know his emotions. I used to be worried that he was somehow playing with you but wow he's not. I can't tell you how many times I've watched him stumble. The guy had secret service take my phone from me for taking a picture of him just looking at you! Is that not proof enough?"

"But still," Christine pressed, "He's never lied to me when it came to this kind of thing."

"He's never not told you the whole truth either, Chris."

She laughed despite herself, "Isn't that part of his job?"

"You know what I mean. He's honest enough but I don't even think he knows just how much he feels for you. But let me tell ya, everyone else knows."

"Really?"

"Hon it is soooo painfully obvious. For example, I will bet you all the money I have that he is going to lose his mind when he sees you tonight."

Christine rolled her eyes, "He's seen me dressed up before…"

"Yeah, and every time he does that thing where he stops being able to speak for a few seconds. You know that means you've temporarily broken him, right? And one day, I will get a picture to hold over his head as blackmail."

"Meg!"

"Or at least show you so that you would just believe me."

Christine once again rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, let's go see who wins the bet, Chica," Meg said with an evil grin as she began to shove the poor woman out of the bedroom.

"I'm not playing against you," Christine said dryly, "Don't forget my-"

"Got it," Meg said holding up both of their clutch purses, "And I take it you're afraid of losing so you must know I'm right after all."

With a sigh, Christine and Meg emerged from the bedroom. Just down the long hallway, Underwood was approaching them with a sort of shielded spark in his step. He pulled on the sleeve of his suit so that it came to the fitted length. Meg dramatically cleared her throat making him look up. Both Underwood and Christine froze as they took in one another. Of course, Christine had seen him in a designer suit almost every day - even on weekends - but she froze when she felt his eyes gaze upon her. Erik was never the least bit inappropriate with his eyes. He seemed to have the ability to take all of her in at once while barely moving his pupils. The effect she seemed to have on him hung in the air making it thick and dry.

Meg, with her peculiar and sometimes cruel sense of timing, went so far as to intentionally turn her phone's volume up to take a photo from behind Christine's back.

Erik roared in rage, "BARNES! I will pay every single phone provider on this continent to eliminate your service right now if I damn-well have to!"

Without even looking up from her phone, Meg shrugged, "Oh chill. The shot is blurry anyway. Geeze you are no fun."

"And you're not arriving with us. Leave."

Meg sauntered past Christine but not before looking back over her shoulder to wink towards her friend, "With pleasure Mr President."

Christine noticed that Meg had left her clutch on a nearby side table. Rather than stand there as she felt Erik look back at her, she went for her purse before looking back up. Erik was once again staring at her which made the heat return to her cheeks. Finally, she shyly asked, "Do I…look okay?"

Underwood seem to stir and spoke kindly to her, "I daresay I have yet to witness a time when you have ever looked any less than 'okay.'"

Christine looked up hopefully, "But you know what I mean?"

He seemed confused for a moment before he sighed and responded, "Despite our peculiar arrangement I fear that if I allow you time on your own tonight that I just might lose you."

Christine allowed him to assist her with her evening cloak before he put his own on. His fingers had been close to her bare shoulders but did not touch them. She felt disappointment only to scowl when she realized how foolish she was being. Finally, as they were descending the stairs, she asked, "What do you mean about losing me?"

Underwood did not look at her as he continued to stare ahead so that she could only see the exposed side of his face. "Anyone with eyes can see how spectacular you are. And later, anyone will ears will know it too. If I don't do something to fight them all off I imagine neither of us will have a moment to breathe all night."

"But you?" She lightly pressed, "What do you think?"

Erik stopped to look over to her just before they exited the stairs and entered the Entrance Hall. He had an odd look of curiosity in his eyes as he answered her, "I know this truth far more painfully than any other, Christine. How else would I even attempt to be able to hold on to you?"

"What does that mean?" she asked through her confusion.

"Are you doubting yourself, Christine? Is this a new form of stage fright I'm sensing?"

Christine looked up at him. She was searching, searching for some kind of word or indication - anything - something that might validate her convoluted thoughts. He looked back at her but she could see the mask of publicity planted squarely atop his already half-covered face. He was playing the game. She knew better than to get wrapped up in it. For a moment, she allowed herself to swallow down her uncertain thoughts before looking back up to him. She could wear such a mask too. He had taught her that much.

"Stagefright," she sadly laughed, "That must be it. I'm sorry to keep us waiting. I don't know what's come over me."

"Fear not, songbird. Last year you surprised them. This year you'll astound them."

XXXVIII

Christine couldn't help but compare the previous year's Kennedy Center Capitol Arts Crusade to the present one. She recalled how awed she had been with all the decorations, lights, press and celebrities all around her. However, in the present, she felt a sense of being over-exposed to such finery. That wasn't to say that she was not appreciative and struck by it all or unable to walk the halls with a look of impression on her face. She knew how to play her role on the arm of such a powerful person while still maintaining a spark of exhilaration over everything. All the same, unlike the previous year, she had lost count how many holiday gatherings of equal finery she had been to at that point. It had been part of her duty to transform the White House for the holiday season, for example. She had no experience with interior design and had many late nights with Meg looking at fashion magazines for inspiration. While she was proud of what she had been able to put together and the press seemed to enjoy it well enough, such efforts had been draining. She wasn't even a holiday sort of person. It all felt like another mask to play.

Hundreds of cameras were pointed at her direction and as protocol dictated, her hand was raised to greet them. Once inside, Erik assisted in removing her cape. Another onslaught of photos were taken. As their agreement allowed, he offered her his elbow which she took graciously. All the flashes still made her head spin sometimes. Just something else to get used to. So many things to get used to. Arm in arm, the First Couple made their way down a hallway filled with colorful trees with bright lights until they were in the main ballroom with everyone else. Their timing had been just right. Never the first but far from the last. Everyone would see them and anyone who had yet to come would know they were there. Such was her life in the spotlight.

Similar to the previous year, after a long cocktail hour, everyone was seated for dinner. Unlike then, Meg was assigned a seat at a different table. The First Couple was surrounded by the highest of honor. Christine looked across to see Meg doing just fine chatting with people at her own table. Meg was always so effortless at meeting and speaking with people new and old. All the while, Christine found herself having to try to spark the same style of conversation with others. People seemed to want to know so much about her but she had always preferred smaller gatherings where she could learn more about other's instead.

Music had been playing throughout the evening. Every so often, Erik would whisper something cruel about a musician into her ear. She would often laugh but once she actually chastised him for his meanness. Their eyes had met each time and each time she broke the contact to look away. Each time she kept her head down. She couldn't have anyone believing anything less than that the two of them were deeply in…something. Throughout it all, her mind began to spin around in all kinds of directions. Finally, in the middle of the main course, Christine put down her fork.

"Something the matter?" Erik questioned.

"I…" Yes. Plenty of things were the matter. However, when some of the others at the table also began to take notice of her strange behavior, she corrected herself, "I believe this is the last cow I'm going to eat."

"Oh?" Underwood asked skeptically.

"Well," she looked up and chuckled heartedly at herself for the abruptness of it all, "I was just thinking about Chris."

"The…turkey?"

"Yes, the turkey. And well, I hear people talking about how many options there are for alternative animal products." She smiled sweetly at Erik, "And I know you would probably feel better about me spending money on something practical." This caused other people at the table to laugh. They likely assumed she was carelessly throwing money at expensive things like her dress. It was all a part to play, as far as Christine was concerned. She cared what people thought of her more or less, but not enough to stand up for something that didn't truly matter to her.

"I was under the impression that I had given you access to a far more than enough purchase animal alternatives," Erik commented slyly which made others at the table lightly laugh.

Christine smiled slightly, "Well you know I don't need that much. But I thought I would let you know."

"Do what pleases you, dearest."

That word again. And this time in front of dignitaries. Did he actually mean anything by it? Did he say it in public to make a statement to others only to say it in private to lead her on? Too much to think about and the middle of a party would not be the time to do so. Her eyes drifted over to her friend who should have been seated two tables away. However, in actuality, she found her sitting at a table farther away. She missed Meg and wished she had her support just as she had the year before. Christine's eyes scanned the table Meg was at and stopped when she realized it was the same table as a very attractive person in eyeliner with perfectly styled short platinum hair wearing a dark blue satin suit. Meg couldn't seem to take her eyes off of them, but whenever they looked in her direction she slyly looked away to join in on table conversation. That had to be Logan. Christine marveled at her friend's ability to play the game of flirtation and romance. She wondered if she would ever play herself. Or at least play with being aware of what was happening around her. That would be nice too.

Music continued and dinner ended with vanilla and juniper snow cream. To Christine's luck, the cream used was coconut so she was able to enjoy it just as everyone else. She admitted to herself that the transition she was about to make would take work as it required a lot of thought when it came to questioning what was inside of some of her favorite foods. The end of dinner also signaled the end of the bidding period for the Spot Singers. Fortunately, she was out of the bidding as she was listed to singing later in the night. However, hearing the phrase from the M.C. throughout the night seemed to spark a hint of fear from the previous year. Finally, she decided that it would be best for her to take a moment to herself away from everything in the main hall.

Just as she was about to get Erik's attention to tell him of her intention, she heard her name come over the speakers and the effect made her jump.

"Our next song is something we would like to dedicate to the First Couple, President Underwood and Ms Gallagher." Christine looked up suddenly to the stage to see a group of college students standing around shared mics. Her mind flipped to who they had been introduced as… a college a cappella group from… California? As expected, she smiled through her surprise as she felt Erik cover her hand with his own atop the table. It was her left hand and she felt the added pressure of his coarse fingers over the ring on her fourth finger. The lead singer continued, "This is less of a holiday song and more of a love song." At this, there were some noises of encouragement from the crowd. Christine looked down in a kind of bashful embarrassment while Erik went so far as to pull her hand up to his mouth to lightly press the back of her palm to his lips. The act destroyed Christine and she found herself unable to look up in fear that anyone might see how heated her face had gotten so quickly. Her mind flipped. Was that contractual, she wondered? Was he allowed to do that? And why would he do that in front of so many people? She felt something sick rising from her stomach and swallowed it down.

The lead singer continued to speak, "We were wondering if the First Couple might honor us with the first dance of the evening?" That really got a crowd reaction. Christine heard Erik swear under his breath and she took an appreciation to him not wanting to dance in front of so many people as much as she. The grip around her hand tightened. Finally Christine looked up and let her free hand fall over her chest only to feel the little diamonds that dripped from her neck. She looked around with part fear, part embarrassment, and opened her mouth in an attempt to speak only to find no words of meaning able to come from her. The cheering from the crowd continued. Erik sighed and pulled her hand up between them.

He whispered with a smile, "Would it offer you any solace if I confirmed that I will abhor this kind of attention as much if not more as you will?"

"Was inauguration not enough?" she whispered in response.

"They fell in love with you, Christine. And because of that they will seemingly never get enough."

Her voice was hardly audible, "I thought you didn't understand love."

Doubt, almost like hurt, flashed over Underwood's eyes. Before he could respond, the singer was speaking again.

"Will you?" he asked hopefully but a hint of uncertainty was in his tone.

Erik looked back at the young singer and smiled without the expression reaching his eyes. The effect had the singer shrink a little with a shiver. The President stood and kept Christine's hand in his as he did so. When she did not move, he bent down to her eyes just above their joined hands and whispered, "Permit me a dance, my queen?"

She scowled at what she was knew was teasing, "Don't call me that."

He smiled with a devilish look in his mismatched eyes, "Well?"

Someone yelled from that surrounding tables, "C'mon, Christine!"

Christine looked around suddenly to find who had said that but could not seem to make out the sound as others began to join in. Not meaning to, she rolled her eyes and stood. The effect over the crowd was an onslaught of applause. She found herself unable to truly smile as Erik led her to the unused dance floor.

"Oh my god," the young singer said, "Uh, thank you. Seriously, wow." He looked back at his group of singer excitedly, "Okay, so the song is a mashup but we call it Lay Me Down in Paper Hearts." Erik scoffed at the title but the singer didn't seem to notice through their joy. Before the singer rejoined his group he added, "I really hope you enjoy it."

The lead singer gave a count off and the group began singing without a traditional music introduction.

Goodbye Love you flew right by Love

As the group continued through recognizable ooo's and ah's, Erik, took hold of Christine's other hand and slowly led her to the center of the dance floor. Once there, a light shined down on them from somewhere above. Before Christine could figure out exactly from where she felt Erik pull on her to bring her closer to him. He finally let go over her left hand and delicately moved his arm to encase her so that his hand could fall over the small in her back. Even though the fine fabric the connection caused Christine to gasp and look up to him. Something in her was aware enough to have her now free left hand to rest on the arm that held. There was still some space between them but everything that was happening so suddenly made her lightheaded. Erik squeezed her right hand just enough to bring her attention back to him.

"I'm going to start moving," he whispered through the music, "Move your right foot back first and we can step through from there."

Christine nodded and the dance began.

Remember the way you made me feel

Such young love but,

Something in me knew that it was real

Frozen in my head.

Pictures I'm living through for now,

Trying to remember all the good times.

Our life was cutting through so loud,

Memories replaying in dull mind.

I hate this part, paper hearts,

And I'll hold a piece of yours.

The a cappella instrumental continued. Erik whispered into Christine's ear, "This isn't a very easy song to dance to. The tempo is slow."

She responded nervously, "I'm glad you agree. I thought it was just me."

"It's never just you, Christine," Erik looked down at her and continued to sway with the slow tempo, "I thought I had made that clear when I suggested you become my partner."

"Suggested?" she said with surprised wide eyes.

"Yes, suggested," he smiled slyly, "You wouldn't imply that I forced you?"

"You didn't make it easy to say 'no,'" she countered with her eyebrow cocked.

"I've been told I can create a sort of irresistible kind of bargaining," he said through a devilish if not uncomfortable grin.

"If that's how you want to put it," came her dry response.

I'm reaching out to you,

Can you hear call?

This hurt that I've been through,

I'm missing you, I'm missing you like crazy.

You told me not to cry when you were gone

But the feelings overwhelming

It's much too strong.

Christine wasn't sure if it was the effect of the song, the expensive wine she had consumed with a lack of meat to fill her stomach, or if it was from being so close to her intended for so long, but she finally seemed to become alert of a feeling that underscored everything else in the room. There was the awful fluttering in her gut, a heat on her neck and cheeks, and a kind of buzzing in her ears that drowned out many spiralling thoughts. Her lightheadedness seemed to get to her and she misstepped which caused Erik to steady her with both hands secured around her waist. Her eyes met his and they stood still as the song came to its first build.

Can I lay by your side?

Next to you?

You,

And make sure you're alright?

I'll take care of you.

I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight.

Their eye contact had not faltered. Christine's hands had rested on his forearms as his arms were still around her. Neither of them seemed to be breathing. Just staring. More heat surrounded them and it created a new sort of weariness to fight against. She hadn't thought about where she was or who all was watching and what they might be thinking. She hadn't thought about the photos that would be taken or the article that would be written. None of the after effects of her actions could overpower the feeling of his eyes boring into hers. Her head became too heavy and she released its weight by tucking herself snuggly against his chest and under his chin as she let her arms close around the back of his neck.

The song continued and even as was so close to him, she felt him lightly sway them. Instead of moving back and forth as they had been, he led them to step lightly in a circle. She was close enough to feel as he moved each leg against hers and it was so much easier to dance when they were as closely connected as they were. She could feel as his chest lightly expanded and contracted and found herself breathing with him just as she had done the day of Walker's funeral. it became harder to think of anything outside of the two of them standing together, moving occasionally and simply breathing with one another.

Can I lay by your side,

Our light was cutting through so loud.

Next to you,

You,

And I hate this part, paper hearts

And make sure you're alright.

And I'll take care of you.

And I'll hold a piece of yours.

Promise that you won't forget about it.

You

I don't want to be here if I can't with you.

Remember the way

Hoping that you don't forget.

And then, just as the song was ending on its last note, he did it again. She felt the pressure from his chin shift in her hair as what she assumed were his lips fall on the crown of her head for a brief kiss. Her eyes went wide at the sound of applause. She was not somewhere safe or private. She was making a show in front of the entire world all at once. A cold bead of sweat fell from her temple as Erik made a move to release her.

"Give her a real kiss!" someone barked from the crowd.

Christine looked up with fury in her eyes.

Erik turned sharply at the crowd and caused a brief hush from his expression alone, "We will retain some sense of privacy in our lives."

A mixture of laughter and disappointment was heard through the mass of faces. Christine looked to Erik and squeezed his hand in a silent plea to leave them all. He looked back at her and nodded in understanding. Hand in hand, the two of them made a path through the tables and away from the masses. Some people continued to cheer as they realized the two of them were clearly going somewhere to be alone. Christine managed to blush even more than she ever thought she could. At least the appearances would be up-kept for another day. That mattered, didn't it?

Underwood signaled for the security personnel to not allow anyone to follow them as they made their way down the stairs and into an all too familiar practice room.

"Here?" Christine said with a nervous laugh as Erik turned on the light.

"It was a place that I knew would be here," he said wearily.

"I guess," she responded sadly as she sat at the piano bench. She did not look up at him when she spoke, "I kind of don't want to sing now. I feel like I've had enough of being in the spotlight tonight."

"That is understandable," he said with a sigh, "I will support whatever decision you choose to make on the matter."

"Thank you," she replied quietly, "I think I just want to breathe right now."

He nodded and said, "I would like nothing more than to stay with you, but the longer we're away the more they will talk."

"I'm so tired of them!" she finally admitted, "I'm so tired of doing things for everyone else all the time!"

He shrugged, "Such is a life of being a public service."

"I want a break to get my mind straight, Erik. I feel so-so…" Her hands flew around her as she grasped at words she had trouble reaching, "I don't even know what I feel!"

"I understand how you must be burnt out. I don't think I've ever hated this holiday season more than this year. This is the last big event before we have some time to ourselves."

Christine could feel anger brewing within her. How could he really know how she was feeling? He was still expected to do the same political things that he was good at then stand next to her as she was given praise and criticism for domestic tasks she had no experience in. All the while, he continued to play his part of being a dotting fiance while she was certain her act had been blown time and time again. Throughout all of this, his efforts were finally getting under her skin and making her believe in the ploy that he was putting on for the crowd.

"Do you mean any of it?" she asked suddenly.

"Christine?" he asked in confusion.

Suddenly, she felt all too foolish. Why would she ever dare to ask him such a stupid question? Panic consumed her and another cold bead of sweat fell from her temple. She then worried if everyone would somehow see that her makeup had been altered. Would Erik see? Her mind was spinning and when Erik sat down on the opposite side of the piano bench the result was not helpful.

"You've been curiously off-kilter tonight. Am I to suspect that this has to do with something beyond the public eye?"

"I…" Christine began, "I'll be fine. I just… I've been so stressed out. It's been hard to think."

"Is there something specific you would like to discuss with me?"

Christine looked around her. There was no time and this was not the place. She sighed and looked down. The keys were uncovered on the piano and she moved her right hand over them. Once her hand settled at the right place, she began to play the same slow tune she had played a year ago. Picking up on the song, Erik used his left hand to fill in the harmony. The slow simple song of Sous le Ciel de Paris filled the room. When the song looped back for what could have been considered the end of a refrain, Erik's soft singing voice filled her ears.

Sous le ciel de Paris

S'envole une chanson

Hum hum

Elle est née d'aujourd'hui

Christine faltered in her playing as she let herself lean into the absolute bliss that his voice had in such easy moments. Without a missed beat, Erik filled her part for her an octave below her hand. She continued to play some of the notes but was happy to let him cast her away in the song.

Dans le cœur d'un garçon

Sous le ciel de Paris

Marchent des amoureux

Hum hum

Leur bonheur se construit

Sur un air fait pour eux

At the end of the phrase, Erik slowed his hands. Christine had stopped playing altogether. Erik looked up and Christine realized just how close they had become. Her breath slowed, her lips slightly parted and her heartbeat quickened. She blinked and in that time he seemed to have cast his eyes down for a flicker of a moment. Had he been looking at…her lips? Couldn't be. His breathing seemed to still as well. What was the time between them but an ongoing question of how long moments truly were?

Erik cleared his throat and asked in a tone that was suddenly all business, "Comment va ton français?"

Christine looked away and tried to gain her breath back, "Well enough that I was actually able to understand the song for the first time."

He smiled, "That is progress."

"Three languages in a single year is a lot of progress," she stated matter-of-factly.

"A lot of progress, indeed."

Christine looked back at him and couldn't help but wonder whether or not his statement had anything to do with her language skills alone.

"Dearest, you do not have to be entirely honest with me if you feel yourself unable to do so," he said slowly, "I know I am in the position where I could not offer you the same level of honesty if you ever chose to grant such a fullness in discourse to me. However, if you do decide to share whatever it is that is on your mind with me, I will listen."

Her mouth hung slightly open again. Something in the back of her mind reminded her where they were and what day it was. She chose against going any further into a subject as strange as her mixed-up feelings were that evening. A part of her did want to know why he continued to earnestly refer to hear as "dearest" but another part of her feared bringing it up in case he decided he never wanted to say it again. She would live in a world that she could for a little while longer. That would have to be enough.

Lowing her head she whispered, "Thank you."

After a few seconds, Erik rose and offered her his hand, "We should return before the gossip magazines have anymore time to hold against just where we went and what we did here."

"Always some reason for a scandal," Christine shrugged as she accepted his hand.

"This is Washington after all," he smiled as he led her from the room.

As they walked closer to the main hall, both overheard the M.C.'s voice echoing down the hall.

"It would appear that we are five thousand dollars below our record from last year," he said with a theatrical level of sadness in his tone.

Erik leaned closer to Christine to speak as they were near re-entering the throng of people, "I imagine we have Tusk to thank for that, hmm?"

"Don't remind me," Christine muttered.

"Are we really going to let that magnet arts school go unbuilt after it was devastated from Kristine?" the M.C. continued, "Speaking of forces nature, where did our First Couple get off to?"

Laughter greeted Underwood and Christine as they re-entered. Noticing they had returned some people who had likely had too much to drink began to cheer. All of a sudden, Christine pulled Erik close to her, "I have an idea."

Erik kept his eyes up, "Can you tell me once we've returned to the table?"

"Will you accompany me when I sing tonight?"

He looked completely against the idea as he met her eyes, "You cannot be serious."

"Only if the fundraiser is met," she said with a sly smile.

The taunting continued and Erik scowled at them which managed to silence a few.

"Please, Erik?" she took both of his hands in hers, "For me?"

He did not look agreeable at first but when their eyes met again a look of defeat crossed his eyes.

"What more will I refuse to deny you?" he asked looking away.

"Thank you!" she said excitedly.

"Something seemed to be going on between our President and Ms Gallagher over there." The M.C. chirped in, "Care to let us in on it?"

Christine looked over to the stage and made a way to go there but Erik held to her hand. He whispered, "Tell them nothing of our private times. Only that I'll play. For a price."

She nodded and waved at the stage, "May I say something?"

"Anything for the Christine Gallagher," the M.C. beamed. Once she was on the stage he handed her the mic. Cheering and a few whistles met her ears. The light hit her eyes and she glared through the beams until her sight adjusted.

"Hello everyone," she began and was met with a seemingly joyous and intrigued crowd, "Thank you for such a kind reception." More cheers.

"Well, are you gonna let her speak or not?" the M.C. said comedically behind her and caused the audience to laugh and settle some.

"I can't stand the idea that such an important school wouldn't get rebuilt because of our low funds tonight," she said honestly, "As some of you know, I've been doing a lot of work to help those affected by the hurricane and well…" she looked back at Erik who had seemed to create a shadow around himself without even moving. She smiled nervously at him before returning her focus out to the rest of the people, "I have an idea that might get some of you a little more interested in helping out this cause. I know the Spot Singing has ended for the evening but I wanted to see if I might add just one more person to bid on?"

The M.C. looked around to other managerial figures around him. Those in the crowd seemed all for the idea but were still skeptical as to what exactly she meant. The M.C. looked at her and nodded.

"Okay, great because…" she looked back at Underwood, "I would like to make a bid that President Erik Underwood accompany me as I sing this evening." The crowd began to whisper and look to Underwood. "I would like to put down one thousand dollars to my fiance accompanying me on the piano but I feel he might want a bit more money to go to the school before he commits."

Erik stepped forward and without any sort of electronic magnification, he spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear him without issue, "You stingy beasts better shovel out another fifteen grand if you want any sort of performance from me. It's bad enough my fiance felt the need to put her own money down after all she has done because you all couldn't come through with building a single school."

Some people laughed but even more began to excitedly rise from their chairs and make their way to the stage. Seeing this the M.C. got the conductors attention, "How about we get a few more songs from our orchestra up here? I'm already seeing people coming up to help you with your bid. If we out-umber the current highest bid it looks like we'll have our next number one spot singer or player I should say."

Christine smiled as she made her way from the stage. Some people had taken the opportunity to continue dancing and so she had to weave around them to get back to where Erik was waiting for her. She imagined the two of them would soon become surrounded by people. It was unlikely they would be able to make it back to the table any time soon. Underwood's attention was already been split between a senior senator and an honorary musician. While she had expected people to reach out for her, what she did not expect was for the Vice President to make his way to her first.

"Ms Gallagher," he greeted her. She suddenly remembered the day he had stopped her outside of the Capitol Building while she had been on a jog. She had to admit she never liked the man. In some respect, Erik was right to refer to him as a frog. There was always something slimy about it. Not to mention his awful legislation that more often than not hurt the poor and working-class citizens. His bold approach made her back up slightly.

"Yes, Mr Vice President?" she asked formally.

He smiled but his eyes were cold and lifeless. He spoke quietly, "You may fool them but you don't fool me. He might adore you but I see right who you really are. I count the days till you're his downfall."

Before she could throw in a retort, Erik had butted his way over and stood between them.

"It's always surprising to see you here," Underwood said in a low voice that was more like a growl, "Considering how little you do to care for anyone besides your own well-being."

"Charity is a tax wright-off after all, Erik,"

"We have somewhere to be," Underwood scowled as he took Christine's shoulder and walked away. Once they were out of earshot, Erik said to her, "Never trust that man."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind but to Christine's relief, it passed quickly. By the time the long line of bidders had left the Spot Singing table, an additional twenty-five thousand dollars had been raised. Just before Christine and Erik were about to make their way to the stage, Meg floated up to her friend and whispered excitedly to her.

"Logan invited me to his private after-party!" Meg pulled at her friend's arm and Christine couldn't help but smile, "Christine, I'm in love! I'm going to watch you sing but then we're gonna go. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. I don't think I'll need your help getting home this year," Christine said in an attempt to make a joke.

"Well, if anything changes you let me know. Otherwise, I am going to get myself a famous hairdresser tonight!"

The two women smiled at one another before Meg bounced away. Christine eventually found Erik again and as the M.C. announced that it was their time to go up, Christine smiled.

"You seem entirely too happy to have me paraded like this," he mumbled.

Before they were at the steps of the stage, Christine responded, "You said it yourself. The pianist was a little too slow. Aren't you grateful that my tempo will be perfect now?"

"You needn't spin my words," he said lowly as they climbed the stairs.

"I had them move the mic to the curve in the piano," she pointed out, "It should be just like we do at home."

"If that is what gives you pleasure," he said in an annoyed manner but she caught a hint of appreciation in his tone.

"Isn't it obvious? I only want to sing with you."

The two of them shared a genuine smile as they took their places to the sound of wild applause. This year had been entirely different from the last. This year, instead of staring out into a sea of strangers, Christine merely had to look over to see the partner she had found along the way. Her breathing came easy. Her nerves were hardly there. She was only out to please one person and she knew she could do at least that. Erik began to play. There was a hushed silence over the crowd. Christine took a breath.

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas…

Sous le Ciel de Paris French to English translation:

Under Paris Skies

A song flies away

Hm hm

She was born today

In a boy's heart

Under Paris Skies

Lovers walk

Hm hm

Their happiness is built

To a tune made for them

A/N: Once again, to all you reviewers, you don't know how much you mean to me. Every chapter I make is dedicated to you. Thank you for following along.

Teaser for next chapter: Christmas fireworks. And when I say fireworks, I'm not talking about colorful lights in the skies. The slow burn has been slow enough...heheheehehe