AN: Hey everyone! I haven't written anything in a really long time, and I've never written for Madam Secretary before, so I would welcome any feedback, constructive criticism, etc.
I do want to warn you from the get go, I have a terrible track record with actually finishing fics that I start (which is why I've almost exclusively written one shots previously), and I wrote most of this chapter not all that long after the episode aired and it's been on the backburner since then. However, I really am determined to get through this fic. On that note, if anyone would be interested in throwing ideas around with me and talking through the fic as I write it, that would be really fantastic and please let me know!
Protecting Herself
"How do you feel about drones?"
President Andrada chuckled. "I like what I am hearing," he said, moving off the desk. "Do you have any idea how sexy it is," he took a step forward, a thoroughly unsettling glint in his eye, "to hear a woman talking about drones?" There was a predatory smile on his face.
Elizabeth leaned backward in order to regain a modicum of personal space and let out a burst of laughter to cover her discomfort, raising her hands protectively in front of her. The President joined her laughing, his sound piercing and unpleasant.
"Well I think that if we can generally agree on the kind and amount of military reinforcements that you're interested in," she recovered, stepping backwards away from the man and turning towards her coat, "then I think we can probably resume these –"
Elizabeth abruptly halted as she felt arms slip around her from behind, one travelling from her right side to squeeze at her left breast, the other pawing at her crotch, and the man's front flush against her back. She tasted bile in the back of her throat at the sensation of his arousal, nestled against her backside.
She reacted with an elbow to his head out of pure reflex, striking the President just above his ear and throwing him backwards, off-balance. His grip on her did not let up though, and they both went crashing to the floor. The back of Elizabeth's head hit the corner of a chair on the way down, momentarily disorienting her, and Andrada took the opportunity to roll on top of her and pin her wrists against the floor with his forearm.
"Mr President, you don't want to do this." Elizabeth hoped the use of his title would drive home the extent of the implications of his actions, given their positions. "We can just get up and walk away now like nothing happened."
"And why is that?" His tone was just as level and even and cold as it had been earlier, and she hated him for it. "I am a smart man, Elizabeth, and I am a strong man. I know that you need the support of the Philippines for your little Singapore agreement no matter what happens today. Here I am only offering you a way of getting that support."
Elizabeth was incredulous. "If this is an offer then I reject your proposal, you need to reconsider what you are doing." Her voice denoted the urgency she felt, and hardly registered the panic that was welling up in her chest.
"That is fair. But you Americans took what you wanted from the Philippines for years when you bought us, I think it's time the Philippines got to take something from America." He moved his free hand to tease at her breast.
"Andrada, you need to stop." You're not taking from America; you're taking from me. When he paid her words no mind, she continued, "You can't possibly want to do this, you know it's going to hurt the relationship between our two countries." Please god let him listen to reason.
Andrada smiled menacingly. "Only if you choose that."
Elizabeth was getting frantic, squirming trying to get out from under him, and pulling at her arms to free them. She was an athletic woman and had undertaken some basic combat training in her time at the CIA, but he was deceptively heavy for such a small man, and very determined. She felt a momentary relief when he removed his hand from her chest, which was only to be replaced by a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach when the hand was placed just above her knee, and slid slowly and deliberately up her thigh. She tried kicking her legs to throw him off, but his knees pinned them down.
"You don't need to do this, we know how strong you are." One last attempt at reasoning, which sounded pitiful even to herself. "Please don't." Her voice cracked, and she picked up a trace of a smirk cross the President's face in response. He stroked at the outside of her underwear and she felt thickness in her throat. That was probably the only reason the contents of her stomach didn't spill themselves onto the floor next to her.
"On the contrary, Elizabeth. I think I need to show you." Andrada's hand dove into her underwear and he took a moment to rub along her entrance without the barrier of clothing, before invading her with his index finger. She hissed in discomfit, her torso thrashing in attempt of escape, a litany of pleas streaming from her mouth. When he pushed more fingers into her, she bit back a cry of pain, not willing to give him the satisfaction as the sensation of his untrimmed fingernails seemed to claw at her from the inside out, ripping to shreds skin and dignity and security in a single dizzying blow. When his lips met her neck, she couldn't decide what was worse, the insult that he would kiss her too, or his eyes as they had been, boring down into her to take in her every humiliating reaction to his touch. His mouth reached the soft bit of skin that connected her neck and her jaw, and he bit down hard. She whimpered in pain, which he purposefully mistook for arousal, growling, "Typical American woman, nothing but a whore."
With her heightened pain and mental distress, Elizabeth had apparently stilled, and Andrada used the opportunity to remove his arm from her wrists, presumably to remove her underwear completely given its direction of travel. Elizabeth wasted no time though, and used her now free hands to punch him square in the nose with all the force she could muster. He let out a cry of pain, and his hands retreated to his face, where he attempted to stem the flow of blood leaking freely from his nose. Her newfound mobility allowed her to push him off her completely, and she frantically moved back from him, forcing herself to stand when she was well and truly out of his reach. Her legs were unsteady and she felt like her whole body was quivering. She pressed her hand against her forehead and took a few deep, shaky breaths.
What just happened? Was the room spinning, or was it just her?
When Elizabeth felt she had composed herself enough, she straightened out her dress and left the room, not sparing another glance for the man on the floor. If she did, her confident, business-as-usual front would have shattered.
The Singapore Interchange. They needed the Philippines on board. She broke President Andrada's nose. Oh god. The gravity of what happened didn't sink in until Elizabeth was conferencing with the President and Russell, and had given them a brief (and thoroughly redacted) rundown of the situation.
"I have to say, breaking the President's nose is a whole new form of diplomacy." The President didn't sound mad, so that was something. Even though she thought he probably should be.
"So is groping the Secretary of State, in my experience." They didn't need to know. That was plenty. She'd had to give them enough to explain the situation, not to mention the Filipino president's face, but the details were best kept private. If she had to look them in the face, knowing they knew, if they had to look at her… No. That was quite unnecessary.
"But you're okay?"
She sighed, her whole body seeming to droop. "Yeah." No. Realising her shift in position, her hand self-consciously went to her neck where he had left a mark when he bit her. After ensuring her hair was still covering the offending bruising, she returned to playing with her necklace. Hopefully they wouldn't question the fact that she was not usually one to fidget.
Russell chimed in with a smile, "I know this doesn't bode well for the Singapore Interchange, but then again, Sugar Ray McCord has put the world on notice about how we deal with bullies."
"That's not funny Russell." If he only knew.
"I'm not kidding, it's badass." Badass. Yeah right. There was a touch of admiration in his voice as he said it, but that seemed misplaced given what really happened. It was admiration for getting out of there, for stopping it. She didn't stop it. Although, Elizabeth supposed, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. So why did she feel so terrible?
"The man is even more unhinged than we thought. How are we supposed to proceed from here?" Conrad redirected the conversation to the game plan, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Plans. Diplomacy. Those were things she could deal with.
"Excuse me Mr President," a woman off the monitor intercepted, "General Reeves."
She saw the President look up at the General. "Mr President we're just getting word that President Andrada has officially ordered all American military out of the Philippines. He's claiming he will rip up our enhanced defence cooperation agreement." Guilt flared up in Elizabeth's chest.
"Fantastic. Thank you General." The President sounded resigned.
"Sir." This apparently marked the General's exit, because Conrad's eyes returned to the screen, dismay etched across his features.
"Sir, I am so sorry."
"Bess, I don't want to hear you apologise for protecting yourself." Conrad's voice was kind, but stern. "We don't know what would have happened if you didn't." On the contrary, Elizabeth thought, we know exactly what would have happened.
Sidestepping that issue, she said, "So, let's take a breath. Kicking the US military out of a country doesn't happen in an afternoon. We might not like it, but I think if I apologise to Andrada, suggest that I was caught off-guard and I deeply regret my actions." Even talk of doing that left a bitter taste in her mouth. The door opened and Blake stepped into the room, looking on edge. "I can grovel. I'm a decent groveler." Hopefully the significance of her pause before the word 'groveler' was lost on the President and his Chief of Staff. (Please don't do this. Please stop. No, no, no.) She had grovelled to this man enough. And she hadn't been good enough.
Elizabeth was snapped out of her reverie by her assistant clearing his throat. "Ma'am. President Andrada wants us to leave."
"Yeah I know, we're working to resolve that right now."
"No, no. Us. You and me. He sent the military police to kick us out of the Philippines, right now." Suddenly Blake's harried appearance made sense, as she took in the armed men behind him, fully decked out in combat gear.
"Well okay then," she said, taken aback, while turning back to face the monitor. "I guess I'll see you in seventeen hours. Mr President, Russell."
"Take care, Bess," the President's voice was soft and coloured with concern. Elizabeth nodded, and the screen went black.
To call this a blessing in disguise would be wrong; there was too much at stake and this was a serious setback. The additional work that this would create for her would be immense, and she could only be glad that it was not her responsibility to inform the Secretary of Defence that all military presence would soon be forcibly removed from Filipino soil. However, Elizabeth was selfishly glad that she would not have to see Andrada. Not to grovel. He may have stripped her of her dignity, but she could keep her pride. And soon, she would be home with Henry, enveloped by his arms, which could only be the safest place in the world. He couldn't touch her there.