"Well that fucking sucks." Emily grumbles. "Bullshit refs."
"Could just be the Cavs suck."
For just a second she gives him a look cold enough to freeze magma before running a hand through her hair and smiling. "At least I'm not a Wizards fan."
Aaron loves her smile. And the way basketball of all things stresses her out. Terrorist attack; she's calm and collected. Tight basketball game; she's pacing the room, putting her hair up then down then up again, and yelling at the TV. He was going to take her to a game for their second date. But he reminds himself it's just as well they never made it to a first date. He saw the way she steamrolled over Seth's heart, and then practically shrugging, said 'We weren't even really dating.' Her detachment from it all scared him more than anything.
"There's always next year."
She snorts.
He likes their friendship. It's easy, she comes over, they drink a few beers and watch the game. It's one of the few times he lets himself truly disconnect from what's going on at the White House, or at least try to. Today was one of those days he couldn't shake, which was probably why he had pulled out the whiskey instead of beer. And is definitely why he breaks tradition and asks her, "Wanna stay and watch a movie or something?" He's just not ready to say goodnight to Emily. Kirkman had told him that public office meant a total lack of privacy, but he didn't warn him how lonely it was. In some ways he's more social than ever, he has a never ending parade of politicians and dignitaries to wine and dine. But in terms of genuine human connection, there's Nadia, Seth, and Emily. And Nadia has a real social life, Seth had a girlfriend, which more often than not leaves him with Emily.
She gives him a look, but then shrugs and says, "Sure."
After pouring them both another glass of whiskey, he pulls up Netflix. "Let me know if anything catches your eye."
"Mmh."
They make it through what feels like half the Netflix catalog with only the occasional comment from Emily trashing some random movie, so when he sees Air Force One he says, "What about this?" He used to watch it with his Dad, and he could use a nice memory tonight.
"You miss it that much?"
"Air Force Two is still better than flying commercial."
She flips him off, but says "Harrison Ford's in it?"
Aaron laughs. "Yes."
"Okay."
As the movie starts Emily leans forward and pointing to the blanket lying behind his back asks, "Do you mind?"
"All yours. I can turn the heat on if you want."
Wrapping herself in the blanket Emily says, "This is fine. My Mom would be turning over in her grave if she heard someone already had the heat on in October."
Emily doesn't talk about her Mom much, so he puts an arm around her, he meant it as a quick squeeze, a friendly gesture, but she was sitting a little closer to him then she normally would, and he must have held her too long, because Emily leaned in and snuggled into his side. Which was hopefully comforting to her, but was leading him down a dangerous path. He's hyper aware of where every part of his body is, and can't get his mind off everyplace Emily is pressing against him. He keeps his eyes trained directly on the screen, willing himself to make it through the movie. But there's another part of him telling him that this is what he wanted. He's the one that asked Emily to stay for a movie after all, he's the one who poured them another drink, and he's the one that put his arm around her.
They only make it about five minutes into the movie before Emily has a complaint. "This is so unrealistic, they never would have been able to get those guns on like that."
"Different time. Pre 9/11, pre Capitol Bombing."
"Yeah but this is still pretty ridiculous."
"It's also a movie. You know you're supposed to just sit back, relax, ogle Harrison Ford." Although with everything they've been through he starts thinking this wasn't the smartest movie choice. Knowing people are about to be taken hostage has him a little jumpy.
"I didn't know he was your type." She laughs.
"Isn't he everyone's type?"
"If you don't think you're going to be able to control yourself we can watch something else."
"I can control myself just fine." He lies.
Emily goes back to watching the movie, but that's the point where he gives up pretending, and watches Emily watching the movie instead. It's almost like she's taking mental notes on how to survive such a catastrophe, her focus on the screen is so intense. He likes this about her, how once she dedicates her focus to something there is nothing else. He shouldn't be letting himself think about the time it was him she was focusing on, but his attempts to redirect his thoughts to the movie, or the federal deficit, or as his mother used to suggest, the rosary, are less than effective. Not that he's really trying too hard. He can't summon his usual resolve not to let anything happen between him and Emily. He could blame the booze, the shitty day at work, the smell of her perfume, or any number of other things, but at the end of the day he simply doesn't want to resist.
Finally Emily tears him from his thoughts, "What would you do?"
"Huh?" He realizes he has no idea what's going on in the movie.
"Would you leave Kirkman in charge? You know, you being VP and all."
He's seen the movie enough times to get caught up. "Oh absolutely not. He gets so much as a minor case of the sniffles, I'm invoking the 25th."
"Oh, ye of little faith." She shakes her head. He finds it a little funny that after everything, she still falls into the default of defending Kirkman. He wonders if she even realizes it or if it was just muscle memory at this point.
"He's an architect Emily, what's he going to do, draw some really detailed blueprints and find an escape route?"
"That doesn't even make sense, if he already knew how to escape, why would he need to draw it? And they're on a plane anyway, they need to take it back from Gary Oldman, not escape."
"Has anyone even told you how fun you are to watch movies with?"
"I'm fun."
Personally, he agreed with her. "Sure you are."
"I'm very fun." And then as if wanting to prove it she leans up and kisses him, it's short and sweet. Really not much more than a peck on the lips. "At least I have the balls to do what you've been thinking about for the last half hour." And before he can react she turns back to the movie, a self satisfied smile on her face.
"To be fair, I've been thinking about a little more than that." He says, cupping her knee.
"I'm kinda watching a movie here."
"Harrison Ford saves the day, God Bless America, The End."
She smiles and bites her lower lip, "Well, now there's no point in watching the rest."
"Shame." He says, bending down and kissing her. It starts slow and sweet, his lips gently brushing against hers, but between the way her knee is shaking and the soft whimper that escapes her mouth, it's not long before he's pulling her shirt over her head and her hands are tugging at his pants.
It's every bit as good as he remembers, better because there is no cloud of guilt hanging over him. He can just concentrate on Emily and how good she feels. How soft her skin feels under his hands, the sounds of her moans, the way she trembles from his touch. And then he's inside her and it takes everything in him to slow things down. Make sure she comes apart before he lets go and joins her.
They spend a few blissful minutes curled together before it becomes uncomfortable. The couch isn't really made for two people to lie on like this, especially not someone his height, and he's starting to agree with her that his house is too cold. He used to be good at this, but it's been a while, and this is Emily, and he finds himself tongue tied.
Emily breaks the silence first, "I should get going." She starts pulling away, disentangling herself from him.
"Don't go." She freezes. Shaking his head slightly, he clears his throat, "I mean, do you want to stay over?"
"Okay." She says, not sounding particularly convinced.
He sits up next to her and presses a kiss in the crook of her neck.
They get half dressed, him in his boxers and Emily in his undershirt and her leggings, and make their way to his bedroom.
As he lies down in bed, waiting for her to finish washing up, doubts start to invade his mind. He can see Seth sitting next to him at a bar drowning his sorrows after breaking up with Emily; 'I don't think she ever felt anything for me, man', Emily avoiding him after their kiss, Emily sneaking out of his hotel room. None of it fills him with hope. By the time she got out of the bathroom he's let his mind spiral to the point of deciding Emily having condoms in her purse meant she most likely had a boyfriend she wasn't telling him about.
She curls up next to him with a shy smile on her face. He must be radiating his moodiness, because she asks him, "Are you okay?
"Yeah, fine."
"You sure? I really can go if you'd rather. This doesn't have to be a thing."
He curses himself, here he is, throwing himself a pity party about how Emily's eventually going to break his heart, and now she thinks he wants an out. "No. I would really like this to be a thing."
She looks at him wide eyed for what is probably just a few seconds but feels like it stretches for hours, before she smiles brightly this time and says, "Good." She kisses him on the cheek and then rolls over in bed, pulling the blankets over her head. He makes a mental note to get more blankets, because he can already tell she's a blanket hog.
When Aaron wakes to an empty bed he figures Emily must be in the bathroom, it's not until he has caught up on his inbox that he worries she's taken off without a goodbye. He leans back in bed and sighs, cracking his knuckles. He thought they ended the night in a good place. Both he and Emily wanted something real, so he really doesn't understand why she would just leave. But, there's a lot about Emily he doesn't necessarily understand.
He's contemplating texting her, he wants to know she made it home okay, but can't think of anything that doesn't sound bitter, when he hears the faint sound of music. Following it he finds Emily in the formal sitting room at the piano, eyes closed, playing a song he's never heard before. Although what he knows of classical music wouldn't even fill the palm of his hand. Once she finishes she looks up and then seeing him in the doorway puts a hand over her face. "Sorry, I thought I would be back before you woke up."
"I forgot how good you are." He says, crossing the room and sitting next to her on the bench.
"Not really." She smiles at him, he cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.
"No really. You're one of the best piano players I've ever heard."
"You work out to political podcasts. I'm not sure yours qualifies as an expert opinion."
"I listen to music."
"Really, when's the last time you did?" Before he can answer she adds, "And it doesn't count if it was a performance at the White House."
"Okay, it's been a while. So, what has you up at four in the morning?"
"Can't sleep."
"Anything I can do to help?"
It's not what he meant, but when she straddles him and captures his lips in hers he's not complaining.
Later, when he's spooning her in bed and debating if going back to sleep this late, or early, makes any sense she whispers, "I have nightmares, it's why I can't sleep."
"I'm sorry." He kisses the back of her neck and holds her a little tighter.
Her shoulder moves slightly, as if she is shrugging away his words, "They come and go."
"Well, if you ever want to talk about them."
"Mmh." She murmurs, and drifts off to sleep. Or at least pretends to, Aaron isn't sure. He realizes then the futility of the last year of trying to stay friends with Emily. He was never going to be just friends with her, because he is pretty sure he is already in love with her.