Please ignore the unrealistic political implications of this fic. I read somewhere that Antiva is based on Spain, so Josie is a Spaniard in this fic, and Leliana is French
bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt.
Josephine reached for her bedside table, but her hand fell short, yanking her phone off the table and onto her floor.
BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT. BZZT.
"Joder!" she cursed and let herself fall off the bed and grabbed it with one hand while supporting herself with the other.
bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzzt. bzz-
"Hello?" she said, without checking the caller ID.
"Josie," the President said.
"Mister President!" she exclaimed, now wishing she hadn't kept her boss waiting. "What's wrong?"
"I'm giving you and Leliana the day off for your anniversary."
"You… what? What about the negotiations with-"
"It'll be taken care of by Jaime," he said.
She was starting to feel dizzy, probably from the blood rushing to her head. She unplugged her phone and sat back up on her bed. "So there is no crisis? None at all?"
"No, what did you think happened?"
"Nothing, only you woke me up at—" Josephine checked the digital alarm clock that sat on her dresser— "Three thirty-four A.M. to tell me that there was nothing wrong?"
In her mind, she could see the President check his watch, sitting at his big desk in the Oval Office. "I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," she said. She wasn't really mad. Her alarm would have gone off in half an hour anyway, and the President had always been a night owl. And a bit… unorganized. He had probably been awake all night, then checked the date on his computer, realized it was her anniversary, then called immediately. She would never admit it, but she thought his more chaotic tendencies were cute. "Anything else, Mister President?"
"Nothing, Madam Secretary. Just make sure you relax. Leliana too. You've both been working too hard."
"Yes, Sir," she grumbled.
"Good." After a pause, he added, "Please relax. That's an order. Tell your Sleeping Beauty, too," and hanging up the phone
Josephine chuckled at the nickname he'd given Leliana. She looked at her "Sleeping Beauty." It had come from the all-nighters the three of them used to pull at the campaign office, back when the President had just been one candidate among many. The three of them, along with now-Secretaries of Defense and Homeland Security, Cullen Rutherford and Cassandra Pentaghast, had started the campaign together what felt like decades ago, but had really been only four years.
One night, when the four of them were the only people in the President's old campaign office, when at around one in the morning Leliana had fallen asleep at her desk. They had spent more time trying to rouse her than they had working. A million paper balls, pencils, and alarms later, Leliana woke up at exactly five o'clock the next morning. Hence, Sleeping Beauty. Only the President called her that, though.
It had been perplexing at the time. Previously, they had all seen Leliana wake at the drop of a pin half a mile away. But now, after almost a year of living with her, Josephine knew that she only slept like this when she was truly safe.
It was the first thing she had loved about Leliana.
She thought about the dinner they would share that night. She'd made the reservations months ago, of course, and she had picked out her dress weeks ago. However, all of that rested on the expectation that they would both have to work on the day of their anniversary.
She looked at her girlfriend, debating getting out of bed. There was no way she would fall back asleep, and Leliana wouldn't wake herself up for another hour and a half.
With a heavy heart, Josephine decided to leave the comfort and warmth of their bed. She shuddered as the cool air touched the bare skin of her arms, uncovered by her cotton nightgown.
She kissed the freckles on Leliana's bare shoulder. I love you, the kiss said to some deep part of her subconscious. I love you, and I will be back soon. She took another second to admire the muscles of Leliana's upper back and the curves that showed even under the covers. If Leliana had woken up at that moment, Josephine would have fallen back into their bed and kissed her until their lips were chapped. But alas, she did not.
Like a zombie, she shuffled to their shared closet. She debated between her navy blue State Department sweatshirt and pants and Leliana's gray Central Intelligence one. She went with Leliana's. Leliana liked her workout clothes a size big, so it fit fine, and it would give their Twitter "stans" something to fawn over. She could already see the compilations of "Government lesbians wearing each other's clothes ?." It was an annoying aspect of being a young, attractive couple in the public sphere, but it would help with the President's voter count and Josephine took a sense of pride in showing off her relationship.
She walked to their kitchen and unpeeled a banana, glancing at the oven clock. It was barely three-fifty. She had ten minutes to kill before she would be comfortable jogging outside, so she opened her phone and texted her night shift head of security to have people posted along her usual route.
Josephine nibbled at her banana as she scrolled Twitter. Her private account, the one not attached to her name or work. She laughed at jokes and memes until she had finished her banana, then started to stretch. By the time she had finished, it was well past four o'clock.
She stepped outside, into the cold Washington D.C. January air, and immediately felt the chilly air slap her in the face. Josephine nodded at the security agent that stood post at their door as she left. Leliana had recruited the guards from the Diplomatic Security Service herself, so they were the best. Leliana took her security very seriously, even before they started dating.
It was the eighteenth thing she had loved about Leliana.
Josephine kicked off, starting slow to warm up. She spotted the security detail and waved out of habit as she ran past them. They usually waved back, except for the hardasses or the rookies who thought they had to prove something, as if they hadn't proved enough by being appointed to the Secretary of State's personal security detail.
After the first mile, she picked up the pace to about a seven-and-a-half minute mile. She had been so proud when she was first able to maintain such a pace, and she used the pride to push herself now. At three miles, she began to falter, and slowed to a more comfortable jog in the last half-mile of her run. She checked her watch. It was almost 4:45.
When she made it back to their house, she collapsed on the front steps, caked in sweat despite the freezing air. Her cheeks were aching from the chill. She rested her head on the steps above her.
She felt damn good.
After a moment, though, she stood and walked inside. Again nodding and smiling at the guard as he opened the front door for her. She threw her clothes into the laundry hamper and walked, naked, to the master bathroom and turned the shower to scalding.
As Josephine leaned against the counter of the bathroom while the shower warmed up, she opened her phone. What was meant to be a quick glance at her notifications quickly became a jaunt through her photo album. Josephine scrolled through pictures of herself and Leliana, there were photos from parties at their university in France, ones from the campaign trail. Then their first date, which had been on the campaign trail in St. Louis, and silly selfies they had taken in bed, on dates, a grainy photo Josephine had taken when Leliana had looked cute while working. Pictures of meals they had shared and things they had done. The most recent one was from a week ago. It was taken by a press photographer, a picture of the two of them hugging backstage before Josephine went to give a speech. It hadn't been released, but the photographer had sent it to her in private.
Josephine smiled, but was brought back to the world by a wave of humid air washing over her. The bathroom felt like a swamp. She jumped into the shower and winced, then sighed pleasurably as the water warmed her to the core. It felt amazing. This was one of her favorite parts of the day. Feeling the water cascade onto her head and shoulders, then fall down her back and legs. It was like a massage. She closed her eyes and leaned into the water like an old friend. An old friend that wrapped their arms around her and…
Josephine looked down to her torso, where a pair of freckled forearms had appeared from nothing and hugged her from behind. Leliana rested her head on Josephine's shoulders.
"Happy anniversary, my love," she said. Her voice was beautiful. Every time she heard the gorgeous sound, Josephine felt her knees go weak, even after all this time.
"Happy anniversary," Josephine replied, letting herself relax backwards, into her lover's embrace. "We have the day off."
She felt Leliana back away slightly, giving her the space to turn and look at her lover. "What?"
Leliana was beautiful in her confusion. And her nakedness.
Around almost anyone else her training would kick in, and the only thing they would see was a mask. When they were together, though, Leliana showed her true emotions plainly on her face. The gears turning in her head were apparent on her face. She cocked to the side ever so slightly as she thought.
It was the third thing Josephine had loved about Leliana.
"The President gave us the day off to celebrate."
"Hm," Leliana said, her face announcing that she had reached a decision. "So, what do we do?"
"That's it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I expected you to resist the notion that you didn't have to work today."
"Why would I?" she asked, puzzled. "You deserve a break."
Josephine felt butterflies in her stomach as she smiled. In that moment, she added another reason she loved Leliana to her mental list.
"So, how will we spend the day?" Leliana repeated.
Josephine considered the question for a moment. She had almost forgotten where they were. Her girlfriend was wet and shiny from the shower. Josephine bit her lip, taking in the sight. Leliana was lithe and agile, muscled by decades of self-defense and combat training, from her time in the DGSE and the CIA. She had scars, too. From a knife's slash just above her right breast, a bullet in her lower thigh, dangerously close to her knee, a buckshot to her back, thankfully fired at a range to just leave a spatter of ugly, yet beautiful, pockmarks.
Josephine remembered when Leliana first opened up to her about the scars. It was right after the first time they had sex. Leliana had said it was the first time she'd talked about them with anyone.
She was vulnerable with Josephine.
It was the thirty-second thing Josephine had loved about her.
Leliana raised her eyebrows a half a second before Josephine pressed their lips together, wrapping her arms around her pale hips. Leliana reached up and touched Josephine's breast, causing an electric shock to travel up and down her body. Josephine broke their kiss and went to Leliana's neck.
"Fuck," Leliana moaned as Josephine kissed and sucked at her skin. She grabbed at Josephine's back, nails digging into her flesh. She loved it. Not the pain, but the tangible proof Leliana loved her. That she wanted this.
She lowered her kisses, to the freckles on Leliana's collar, to her breasts and nipples, to her abdomen and her hip bones. Each kiss on her delicate skin made Leliana sigh with delight and pleasure. Finally, with her girlfriend's hands on her head, Josephine kissed her pussy. A smile turned on her lips as Leliana shuddered, almost vibrating, like she always did when Josephine started to go down on her.
It was seventy-eight thing that Josephine had loved about Leliana. There were almost two hundred now, slowly cultivated in private over almost four years of loving her.