Joshua Tenney and Susan Margate were sitting over coffee during a midmorning break between court sessions. They had discovered a café near both Josh's office and the courthouse where Susan heard most of her cases, and had been there several times.

"How are things going with James Warren?" Josh asked. They had been discussing Susan's current case.

"It's good. We haven't had any problems. The Logans being who they are, it hasn't been difficult to get court time. Except for some community property issues we need to get straightened out, it's all over but the shouting. The divorce should be final in the next six weeks or so." She eyed him. "How are you doing? How's Charles Logan's case coming?"

He shrugged. "Okay. Charles is somewhat difficult, but I've dealt with worse clients. My real problem right now is Gene Dunlap. It's gotten to the point that I'm afraid to discuss anything with him. I just don't think I can trust him, and it's making it impossible for us to work together."

Susan leaned forward. "Let me clarify this for you: you definitely can't trust him. He's been up to God knows what and he's passing confidential information from Logan to his co-conspirators, whoever they are. You'll never be able to prove it, since Logan won't talk, but we both know that's what's happening. Frankly, I'm surprised you're still working with him."

"Susan, we're partners. It's not as simple as throwing up your hands and walking out the door, you know that. I've put too much into this firm to throw it all away."

She sighed. "Yes, I know. Have you confronted him about it?"

"In an oblique way."

She rolled her eyes. "That means no."

He grinned. "Have you always had this habit of saying what you think?"

"From a child."

"However did you get through law school?"

She laughed, but persisted. "What exactly did you say?"

"I asked him why he'd been visiting Charles Logan so frequently. He stared at me for a second and then said something about wanting to know how the case was going. So I asked him why he hadn't come to me if he was interested. He just shrugged."

"Anything else?"

"I mentioned the bomb threat to Mrs. Logan and asked him if he'd heard anything about it. He said no, he hadn't, but he didn't look surprised either."

Susan watched Josh across the table. He was stirring his coffee with unnecessary vigor. "You look upset."

"I am upset." Tenney dropped his normally mild manner. "This is really bothering me. I enjoy my job. I like defending people; I've always wanted to do criminal defense. The famous clients are fun and the money doesn't hurt either, but that's not why I do it. You understand that, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do. You're a decent guy, Josh. You believe in what you do. The trouble is your partner isn't and he doesn't. I'm not trying to tell you what to do here, but I do believe that because the two of you are who you are, you're eventually going to split up. I'm just worried that if it doesn't happen soon you're going to wind up getting dragged into whatever questionable activity it is that Dunlap is involved in."

"You're probably right. I'm going to stay on until the Logan case is completed, but I've got to start thinking about my options. At least I don't have a family to worry about on top of everything else."

"You're divorced, too? All the best people are," she added dryly.

Tenney laughed. "No, never married. I was seeing somebody for a while, but we broke up right around the time I graduated from law school. Then I got caught up in my work, climbing the ladder to partner, the usual…" he grimaced. "The next thing I knew, it was twenty years later." He shook his head, looking surprised, then sat back and looked at Susan. "What about you? What's your story?"

Susan shrugged. "My story is a short one. I married a jerk."

Tenney was watching her closely, and chose his words carefully: "You look too smart to do a thing like that."

"We all make mistakes. It took me a while to realize that I'd made one." Susan's normally cheerful expression changed for a moment. "Suffice to say I figured it out, got divorced and lived happily ever after." She looked down and took a sip of coffee, now speaking more slowly as she looked back at the past. "It took me a long time to build up my practice after that, but it was all I had. It paid off, though. I've got something that I accomplished by myself, and no one can take it away from me."

"It's about self-esteem, isn't it," Tenney said quietly. "We get so caught up in our jobs." She nodded absently. "And are you happy?"

She blinked. "Well, yes! Of course!" He said nothing. "Reasonably happy. I mean, I don't think anyone is perfectly happy…" Another pause. Suddenly she focused on him. "Those are some wicked forensic skills you've got there, Counselor. I'm starting to see how you got to the top of the tree in criminal defense." She grinned. "Let's talk about something else. Are you going to the ABA's fundraiser dinner this weekend?"

"I have a ticket for it. I may not actually go, it gets tiring to go to these things alone after a while."

"You're not going alone, you're going with me. I've got a ticket too."

Josh looked surprised for a second, then started to laugh. "That sounds much more interesting. All right, we'll go together."

After further consideration, Martha had decided to accept a few of the speaking offers she'd received. She hadn't written one of her own speeches for some time, as her husband and Walt Cummings between them had delegated this job to one of the lesser White House speechwriters; as a result, she was finding the writing process more difficult than she'd anticipated. She was still wrestling with the first draft of her speech when the doorman buzzed to announce Mike Novick's arrival. With a sense of relief Martha abandoned her computer and hurried to the door to admit him.

"Well, Martha," he gave her a brief hug, "it's good to see you. I hope you didn't mind my inviting myself, but I haven't seen you since the funeral and I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm glad you're here, Mike. I've got a lot to tell you. I've been meaning to call you but what with getting unpacked and reorganized, things have been crazy around here."

"I heard you had some trouble during your move? Anything serious?" Mike was eyeing the living room approvingly.

"Just Charles up to his old tricks again. It's been taken care of. By the way, thank you for recommending Susan Margate. She's handling the divorce for me, and she's been wonderful."

He nodded. "Glad to hear that's going forward. Are you keeping busy?"

"Very busy. You wouldn't believe how busy. I've got some really big news, Mike. Hal Gardner is going to Russia in two weeks, and he wants me to go with him!"

"How so? Isn't Beth going?"

"Yes, she is, but he's trying to smooth things over with the Russians and they wouldn't have anything to do with him till he offered to bring me along. Their intelligence network figured out that Charles leaked the information about the motorcade to the terrorists, and they also know that I got into the car to try to stop the attack." She saw Mike wince at the memory. "Apparently I'm the only one they'll talk to right now. I'm not really sure what I can do, but I told him I would go."

"Good for you. I'll have to give Hal Gardner credit for asking you, I didn't think he had that much sense." Mike grinned suddenly. "How do you think Beth is going to take this?"

"As badly as possible," Martha retorted. They both started to laugh. "Oh Mike, it is good to see you. I haven't had the chance to talk to somebody like this in a long time. What are you doing these days?"

Novick reported that the Senator he'd spoken to at the Palmer funeral had come through with help in finding him a job. He was working with a private organization advising various government committees on economic issues: "It's a rest from the White House, and I'm enjoying it." They talked on about various mutual acquaintances, and Martha told him about her upcoming speech. Mike raised an eyebrow at her news. "I thought you didn't like that sort of thing."

"It's different when they're paying you. Besides, this time I get to talk about what I want to talk about instead of reciting some canned monologue Charles got someone to write for me. I've only accepted a few invitations to start with. If it doesn't work out, I'll stop and find something else to do."

Mike smiled. "This all sounds… well, wonderful, Martha. I don't think I've ever seen you like this. I know you've been through a tough time, but you've handled it better than I could have hoped for. The way things are now, you could do just about anything you want. Who knows, if this trip goes well and you play your cards right, Gardner might even appoint you the next ambassador to Russia."

Martha groaned. "Mike. I do not want to be the ambassador to Russia. The only ambition I have right now is to be happy, to live my life the way I want. Right now I'm still trying to put the pieces back together. It's barely been a month since it all happened."

"I know. I know, but in a few months you might feel differently. That reminds me," he started to pick his words carefully, "once the divorce goes through… there are a lot of eligible men in Washington, Martha. I'd be happy to introduce you to some of them."

Martha froze. "Mike, I appreciate it, but you don't really have to—"

"Think about it. You talked about putting your life back together. Wouldn't this be part of it?"

"Well, yes. Absolutely. But the truth is—"

Novick leaned forward to emphasize his point. "You deserve to be happy, Martha. You deserve a second chance."

Martha spoke quickly, before she could change her mind: "The truth is, Mike, I'm already seeing someone." She paused, partly to gauge his response, partly to get her courage up. "And I think I need to tell you who it is. It's Aaron Pierce."

"Aaron," Mike repeated. She couldn't tell his reaction.

"You don't seem that surprised."

"In a way I'm not. I could tell you two were close." Martha could tell from the struggle on Novick's face that he was trying to be diplomatic. "Martha, I have a lot of respect for Aaron. But are you really sure he's the right person for you? You were thrown together a lot that day, under very unusual circumstances, and sometimes that sort of situation generates sparks that… that won't necessarily last."

"You're not saying anything I haven't already asked myself, Mike. Believe me, I second-guessed myself a lot about this. And it didn't start right away. Nothing really started happening between us until I moved out of the White House. All I can really tell you is, it feels right. I feel incredibly comfortable with him. I know I can trust him, and I know he cares about me. After Charles…" she let her sentence trail off, "I can't tell you how much it's meant to me to have Aaron in my life."

Novick nodded. "He's a good man. But I meant what I said, Martha. The sky is the limit for you now. With the right connections, the right husband, you could go a long way."

"I couldn't go farther than I have already. It's hard to beat being the First Lady. But I was miserable, Mike. I didn't know how miserable I was until all this happened, until I left the White House and stopped living with Charles. I'm not bitter at Beth Gardner, not really. We'll never get along, but I'm so grateful that she stepped in and took over that burden." She looked directly at him. "I'm not drinking any more, I don't need to, and I'm not taking my pills every five minutes either. I'm never going back to that life again. It turns out when you nearly get killed, you figure out your priorities in a hurry. I know what I really want out of life more than I ever did before."

"I'm happy for you, Martha. I am." Martha could tell Mike was sincere, but unconvinced. "I just hope it lasts. You're from very different backgrounds, and call me a pessimist, but I can't help thinking that can cause problems in a relationship."

"Of course it can. I know we both have some adjusting to do. I think if we were younger, it would be more of an issue. I'm sure we'll be able to manage." She hesitated for a moment, then continued: "There's more, something you don't know. I want to tell you but you have to promise not to tell anyone." Mike looked both shocked and curious; eventually curiosity won out, as she knew it would, and he nodded at her to continue. "You remember the day after the attack, when Aaron gave his evidence about the death of Agent Adams?"

"Of course."

She braced herself. "Aaron didn't kill Adams. I did. He told you he'd shot Adams to protect me."

For perhaps the first time in his life, Novick was rendered inarticulate. "You… you… what?"

"It's true, Mike. Aaron was handcuffed. There was nothing he could do. I distracted Adams when I showed up, and Aaron tried to fight back. Adams dropped the gun and I picked it up. He picked up a crowbar and was getting ready to beat Aaron to death with it when I shot him." She shuddered. "It was horrible. My fingerprints weren't on the gun because I was wearing gloves. I didn't know Aaron was going to take the blame for Adams' death, Mike; I would never have let him do it if I'd known. He came to me before we left for Washington and told me what he'd done, and asked me to confirm his story."

Novick was still stunned. "This is unbelievable. Aaron testified under oath, Martha. He committed perjury for you."

Martha looked at him calmly. "And I did it for him." She noted Mike was polishing his glasses, a sure sign that he was agitated. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

He looked at her. "No. If it isn't self-defense, it's close enough. Aaron's story was almost exactly the same as yours except for the detail that you shot Adams. And if he'd killed Aaron with you as a witness to it, there would have been only one thing for him to do: eliminate you."

"Now do you see why I trust Aaron? Why I feel the way I do? How many people would do that for someone they loved?"

"I don't know." He seemed unable to say anything else. "I just don't know." He shook his head, glanced at his watch and jumped up. "Oh, my God. Martha, I'm sorry, but I'm late for a meeting. I've got to leave." He started to head toward the door, then stopped. "Thank you for telling me." He hugged her. "It means a lot to me that you trusted me enough to talk about this. I wish you and Aaron all the best. Tell him I'm sorry I didn't get to see him." Mike was recovering his usual manner as they reached the entryway: "I'm going to email the Moscow embassy and let them know you're going to be there. I have friends there who can get you anything you need."

Martha thanked him, shut the door and leaned against it in relief, wondering how she was going to explain to Aaron that she'd spilled their biggest secret.

Her chance came that same evening, when Aaron stopped by after work. Uncharacteristically, he was burdened with both a laptop computer and a sour look.

"Bringing work home?" she asked.

"Just something I'm having trouble with. I have to give a recruitment presentation next week, and I'm not much of a public speaker. And this PowerPoint thing… I asked Mitchell to help me with it, and he keeps wanting to add special effects to all my slides, and it's driving me nuts." Aaron looked disgusted.

Martha was interested. "Mind if I take a look?" She handed him a drink; Aaron accepted it gratefully and waved his hand toward the computer. "Help yourself." He sat next to her as she began scanning through the slides. "You're right about the special effects," she told him. "If you use too many they're just distracting. Get the speech organized first and then you can worry about the extra stuff." She reviewed the main points of his presentation, asking questions as she went; Aaron took notes of her suggestions.

"This will be a big help. You've really improved it." She smiled at him, then stiffened as an unpleasant memory shot through her: her words to Charles the day of the terrorist attacks. "We used to be such a good team." She'd worked with him on his press release about the nerve gas crisis, thinking that at last things were going to be all right again between them, only to be completely disillusioned just a few hours later.

"What's wrong?" Aaron was looking at her, concerned.

"Nothing. Just a bad memory." She took his hand and asked tentatively: "You've been divorced longer than I have. Does this still happen to you?"

"Yes. But not as often as it used to." He leaned forward and kissed her.

Martha nerved herself and started her explanation. "Aaron, I need to tell you something. Mike Novick stopped by today to see how I was doing. I told him we were seeing each other."

"It's going to be all over Washington in two days, then," he noted dryly. "Not that it bothers me all that much, but why did you tell him?"

"He was talking about me putting my life back together, and he wanted to set me up with some friends of his. It was the only way I could stop him."

"And what was his reaction?"

"He, well…" she tried to downplay it. "He wasn't upset about it."

"But he wasn't happy about it either."

"He kept saying the most ridiculous things. Like how I needed to make the 'right connections.'"

"Well, maybe he was right." Aaron let go of her hand and looked away for a moment.

"No, he wasn't! Aaron, I hated being First Lady. I had no control over my life. I was trying to be someone I wasn't meant to be. If I'd had a better marriage I could have done a better job, maybe, but I never would have enjoyed it. I'd never want to go back to living like that."

Upset, she got up and moved across the kitchen. "More important, why would I be seeing you if I did? Do you really think I'd dump you so I could be seen with the right people? I'd never do that to you." She moved back toward him and leaned over the table to emphasize her point. "I don't know what happened in your marriage, but Angie told me enough that I know you've been hurt. I know how that feels. I promised myself I'd never do that to you. Do you trust me or not?"

He stood next to her. "I do. Martha, I do. I'm sorry. I just—this is a little difficult for me to get used to. I honestly never thought you'd have any time for someone like me."

"Someone like you? The best man I know? Why would I not have time for you?" She looked at him seriously. "I've never known anyone quite like you. I've never felt like this before, Aaron, truly I haven't. I—" she sighed. "That reminds me, there's something else. I was trying to explain all this to Mike, why I feel about you the way I do, and I told him how you'd taken the blame for Agent Adams' death when it was really me."

He stared at her. "You've got to be kidding."

"I'm not. But he isn't going to tell anyone. He said it meant a lot to him that I trusted him enough to tell him, and he wished us the best of luck. I think that's what finally convinced him."

Aaron relaxed a bit. "You took an awful risk."

"I trust him, Aaron. I know him a lot better than I did a month ago, and I consider him a friend. I'm not worried that he'll talk about us."

He nodded. "The truth is, Martha, if word gets around about us it won't be because of anything you did. It'll probably be because of me."

She was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"The Service, Martha. The agents watching you here are people I've worked with for years. They all know who I am, and they report on everyone who visits you."

"You mean…" she started to grin. "You mean we're being chaperoned?"

"More or less," he confessed, looking more self-conscious than she'd ever seen him.

The grin became a laugh. "Has anyone said anything about it?"

"Not so far. I expected to get some sort of comment about my visits, but nobody's said a word, at least not to my face." He smiled. "I think I overheard Williams defending your honor the other day. He was giving one of the other agents a really hard time, but he shut up as soon as he saw me."

Martha walked over to Aaron and put her arms around him. "Maybe they're happy for you. And maybe they just figure it's none of their business." She kissed his cheek. "So, you knew this was going to be an issue and you keep coming to see me anyway?"

"Mm hmm." He pulled her close, closing his eyes and marveling at her ability to bewitch him.

"Tell me why," she whispered.

"Because I've never been this happy." Suddenly he wanted to tell her exactly how he felt. "Because nothing and no one is going to stop me from being with you. If you want to be with me too, that's all I care about." He searched her face for her reaction.

"I do, Aaron… more than anything." Suddenly, fueled by relief, they were kissing more passionately than they ever had before. Aaron backed Martha against the counter as their kiss deepened for the first time. Wanting to reassure him, she wrapped her arms around him and abandoned herself to his embrace.

Martha had been amazed and delighted when Aaron had first dropped his barrier of polite formality with her. The Aaron Pierce she knew now loved physical contact as much as she did, whether it was hugging, handholding or simply sitting next to each other. For the first time she realized that his craving for affection spoke of a loneliness he'd probably had for years. She let her hands wander down past his waist and pulled him into her.

"Martha…" half laughing, he broke the kiss. "We've got to stop."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Do we? Wouldn't it be fun to shock your co-workers?"

"With Russia coming up, I just can't." He was serious again. "Once we leave on that trip, it's going to be back to business as usual. You'll be the former First Lady of the United States, and I'll be Agent Pierce. I won't be able to focus otherwise."

"I know." She nodded. "Are you worried about it?"

"I always worry about this sort of thing. It's my job. I've been in contact with CTU to see if they've picked up any chatter about separatist activity in Russia, but so far there's been nothing." With a final kiss, he let go of her and picked up his laptop. "I hate to go, but I need to finish this tonight. It's going to be busy between now and the time we leave."

She followed him to the door. "You'll call me?"

"Absolutely. I'll want to hear how your speech went," he added with a smile. "And I'll come by if I can."

"Goodnight, Aaron." She heaved a sigh, staring at the closed door, then reminded herself of her own unfinished project. Turning on the computer, she stared at the screen for a moment and began typing.