As much as Annabeth would have liked to pick apart Luke's motivations for showing up at Michael Yew's funeral, or even fixate over how tight Percy's grip had been on her fingers just before the drive back to the White House that day, she couldn't. There wasn't time. After the funeral, there were press conferences, and after the press conferences, there were meetings, and when the meetings were done, there was a debrief with Reyna and Jason and then it was somehow eight o'clock at night and Annabeth had to go check in at the polls.

She was in the phone bank room staring at the numbers, counting up percentages and voting districts, tapping her fingers absently on the pad of paper she'd brought with her when someone knocked gently on the wall next to the open door.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

A shortish guy, younger than most of the staffers who worked on this side of the building, tapped at his name tag, complete with its visitor pass and the special designation for pollsters. "I think I should be the one asking you that, actually."

"Oh," Annabeth realized. "You're the outside guy we brought in?"

He nodded. "Nico di Angelo. You're Chase?"

"Annabeth." She extended her hand, which he shook.

"You don't look thrilled," he noted, glancing up at the screens that Annabeth was still glancing up at. "Keeping an eye on Missouri 7 and Mississippi 4?"

"And Georgia 6 and basically all of Michigan," Annabeth confirmed. "Think the numbers will change in the next two hours?"

Di Angelo shook his head. "We've got about eighty percent of the calls in already. Unless there's a massive shift, or we messed up our ratios and accidentally phone up only Democrats in the next three hours, this is probably what we've got."

"Ugh." Annabeth grimaced. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "I've got a meeting in five. Can you… I don't know, send someone to find me if things change? My office is just down…"

"I know where your office is," Di Angelo said, pointing at Annabeth's own name tag and badge. "You're the Deputy Chief of Staff, you're not hard to find."

"Sure. Nice to meet you, by the way." Annabeth drummed her fingers on her notepad again. "You're not new, are you? You've done polls for us before?"

"I've done a little work for Reyna, off and on," he confirmed. "Soft polls, ones you guys didn't necessarily want to be traced back to this call center too quickly."
"Where do you think these numbers are headed?" Annabeth asked. "On the police body camera thing, I mean."
"You're asking about the question on whether people are going to favor a body cam requirement?" Di Angelo shook his head, crossing his arms in front of him. "Not sure. Doesn't look like it's trending positively, at the moment. Or like that'll improve much."

"Shit," Annabeth murmured. "Well, that's dead in the water, then, isn't it."

"Is it?" Di Angelo raised both eyebrows. "Well, a lawmaker going the pessimistic route over a few numbers. Can't be surprised, I guess."

Annabeth frowned, taking another look at the pollster. For a guy in a suit, he had an odd bearing— like he'd be more comfortable in a T-shirt and ripped jeans. He didn't stand at attention like the ex-military officers down the hall, or fidget like the policy wonks and lawyers of the building (Annabeth included).

"You'd read them differently?" She finally asked.

Di Angelo shrugged. "Eh, not for me to say."

Annabeth's phone went off in her pocket— the alarm she'd set reminding herself to go to Percy's office to talk about an education reform bill— they'd meant to get to it earlier in the day, or the evening, even, but they hadn't. She pulled the phone out to silence it. "It absolutely is for you to say; it's how you'd read them. As Reyna's favorite outside pollster, I don't believe that you don't have an opinion."

He spread his hands wide and gave a half-bow. "Not my purview. I just get the numbers for you, I don't read into them too much."

"Whatever." Annabeth tucked her phone back into the pocket of her blazer. "I want the final results as soon as you've got them."

Annabeth passed Piper on her way to Percy's office. "Hey, Pipes. Do you have dinner plans?"

Piper held up a bag from the Italian place around the corner. "I did. With you. An hour ago. You were supposed to meet me."

"Damn it." Annabeth sighed, chastised. "I'm sorry, Piper, I'll make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it," Piper said. "I'm leaving your food on your desk. Not heating it up for you, though."

"Thanks." Annabeth paused. "Actually, can I take it with me now? I'm headed over to—"

"Percy's office. Yeah." Piper handed Annabeth the bag, a little more forcefully than was probably necessary. "I'll be… down the hall, I guess."

"Down the hall?" Annabeth frowned. "Where… never mind. See you later?"

"We can grab a drink tonight, if we get out of here before midnight." Piper tossed her hair over her shoulder. "If you don't flake on that, too, anyway."

"Piper…"

"Go, meet with Percy." Piper pointed down the hall.

Guilt settling in her empty stomach, Annabeth headed down the hall, resisting the impulse to yell an apology over her shoulder at her friend.

Percy was on the phone when she arrived, bearing her slightly greasy bag of Italian food. He held up a hand as she approached the door.

"Yes… sure… uh huh. Okay. Sure. Thank you." He covered the mouthpiece side of his phone with his hand. "Hey, Annabeth. Come on in." He uncovered the microphone. "Yeah. You got it. Happy to. Love you, too."

Another feeling joined the guilt in Annabeth's gut. Dissatisfaction? Curiosity? Whatever it was, it made her stomach turn in a way that she didn't like.

"Sorry about that," Percy said as he hung up the phone and set it back down on his desk.

"No worries," Annabeth replied, as breezily as she could. "Do you have a girlfriend I don't know about?"

"No, I… that was Hazel. She's a… I've known her since high school. She's a friend." Percy pointed at a framed photo on his desk. There was a much younger Percy, clad in a Team USA track suit. On one side of him a skinny Latino guy with hair that fluffed out under a baseball cap was making rock-n-roll hand signs at the camera, one arm slung around Percy's neck. On the other side, a short girl with dark skin and hair streaked cinnamon-red and gold was tucked into his side, smiling shyly.

"Cute. And you didn't answer. No girlfriend?" Annabeth started unpacking the bag that Piper had handed her. "Also, I hope you don't mind. I was watching the polls, I didn't eat earlier."

"No, you're fine." Percy pointed at a crumpled sandwich wrapper in his own trash can. "I just finished a second ago. And because I know you won't shut up about it, no. No girlfriend. Because it's eight o'clock and we're still working."

"Long hours didn't stop anyone from dating back at Duke."

"Law school was different…" Percy shook his head. "Not the point. We're supposed to be talking about education reform?"

"Yeah. The bill's going to a vote tomorrow." Annabeth peeled the cardboard top off of her spinach manicotti. It wasn't cold yet, so at least there was that.

Percy laced his fingers together and flexed his hands, cracking his knuckles. "Who do we need?"

"Um." Annabeth thought for a minute, trying to remember what she'd written down earlier in the day when they'd set this meeting in the first place. "Nakamura, Harley, Mason, Stoll…"

"All the moderates in swing districts, basically." Percy glanced up at a House district map he'd mounted on his wall. "That's going to be a tough sell, isn't it."

"It shouldn't be." Annabeth took an angry bite of her pasta, chewed, and swallowed. "It's money for teaching English as a second language, it's for developmental learning tools, special education, increasing the funding for paraprofessionals— this stuff matters."

"Yeah. Hey, speaking of stuff that matters, I got a call from Gardner today." Percy dug through a pile of notes on his desk and retrieved a Post-It.

"Gardner? She's one of ours. New York." Annabeth frowned. "What'd she want?"

Percy held up the Post-It. "She asked us to add a four million dollar package for education support for foster kids, including extra help with college counseling."

Annabeth stabbed another piece of manicotti with her fork. "I mean, that's great in theory, but this is already costing us five billion. If we try to add in anything new…"

"We might lose the guys we've already got, which isn't even a true majority right now as it is." Percy crumpled the Post-It into a ball and tossed it at his recycling bin. It missed, fluttering to the ground by Annabeth's feet.

She clucked her tongue at him. "For shame, I thought you were an athlete."

"Swimming requires no hand-eye coordination," Percy objected. "Besides, I bet you can't do any better."

Annabeth cocked her head to the side. "Oh, wanna bet?"

"I'd bet actual money that you've been this much of a nerd your entire life." Percy crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "Back at Duke…"

"Back at Duke, I was working my ass off to balance school, work, and networking. I was too busy for anything outside of that. But I was a high school state volleyball champion, thank you very much." She leaned down and picked the crumpled Post-It off of the floor. She smoothed it out on Percy's desk, then began folding the edges in. A few seconds later, a tiny airplane had taken shape. She looked back up at Percy, a glint in her eye and a smirk dancing on the edge of her mouth. She threw the airplane at the recycling bin. It did a slow, lazy loop, before landing perfectly in the blue bin.

"Also," Annabeth added, "my dad's an airplane historian and I was really into origami. Even if I couldn't throw a paper ball and aim it well, I'd have you beat on simple engineering."

Percy grabbed a new, blank Post-It, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at Annabeth's head. It hit her square in the forehead and then bounced onto the desk, narrowly missing her pasta.

She narrowed her eyes before throwing that one into the recycling bin, too. "Messing with my ability to eat my dinner is not cool."

Percy held up both hands, laughing. "Okay, okay. That's fair. You can throw a sad, empty, used-up Post-It better than I can. Congratulations. You shall receive… I don't know, the praise and congratulations that comes with knowing you beat an Olympic athlete. Nicely done."

Annabeth shrugged, but couldn't hide her own smile. "It'd mean more if that was coming from an athlete who had any hand-eye coordination in the first place."

"Very funny." Percy rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Gardner."

"Yeah." Annabeth chewed contemplatively. "I don't think we can do anything. If you can call up Stoll and Nakamura, I can get the rest… the vote's happening tomorrow morning.

"Sure, I got it." Percy nodded. "And I'll talk to our guys in the Senate, too."

"Yeah, Reyna's meeting with the Vice President about it now, too." Annabeth took the final bite of her pasta and began cleaning up the container, stuffing it back in the paper bag she'd pulled it from. "Anything else I should know?"

"Nothing, really, just…" Percy shook his head. "It sucks that we can't help out Gardner."

"Yeah." Annabeth nodded.

"Oh, and there's this," Percy slid a newspaper clipping across the desk to Annabeth. "Did you see this yet?"

Annabeth squinted at it. "Is that the Post? No, I haven't. Has Jason seen this yet?"

"No, I just got it five seconds before you came in." Percy tapped on the clipping. "Read it."

Annabeth did. "Sources close to the President say… readying to make a stance on journalistic protections… funeral… outrage expressed in private." She looked back up at Percy. "In private? Who the hell is commenting on the President's privately expressed outrage?"

"It's true, then." Percy said.

"Yes, it's true." Annabeth rubbed at her temples. "But that doesn't matter. Who are 'sources close to the President?' Why is Silena not already dealing with this?"

"I called her when I got it, she is on it, but she's got no idea who either. The Post guy isn't one of their usuals, he's some dude who's only got two bylines with them and they're both gossip columns…" Percy shrugged. "She's on it. I'm looking into it, too. But you asked if there was anything else you should know, and I figured…"

"Yeah." Annabeth groaned. "No such thing as a simple day, huh."

"No, apparently not," Percy agreed.

"Well, let's do one good thing tonight before we go home," Annabeth declared as she stood up. "Let's get the damn education reform package through. I'll make my calls, you make yours?"

So they did. Reyna, Jason, Percy, and Silena were all waiting in Annabeth's office by the time she arrived the next morning at seven o'clock. They greeted her with handshakes and a rousing cheer over their morning coffees. A narrow majority in the House was set to vote 'yea' on the education reform bill. The vote would be held at ten in the morning, and the Senate was ready to pass it through as well. President Brunner would be standing ready to sign it into law by two o'clock in the afternoon.

Which was why Annabeth was utterly flummoxed, staring at a C-Span feed at four o'clock, as New York Congresswoman Katie Gardner stood on the floor of the Senate, reading a recipe for frangipane to be used in an almond croissant. She'd already read out loud the croissant recipe, in addition to the first three-fourths of the cookbook she was reading from.

Piper poked her head into Annabeth's office. "You know, I didn't have learning to make my own breakfast pastries on today's agenda, but at least I'm learning something," she said by way of greeting. "Also, Reyna and Jason want to see you."

"Yeah, I'd want to see me, too, with this happening," Annabeth grumbled as she hauled herself to her feet.

Approximately eight minutes later, Reyna was pacing in her office, alternating between pointing at the C-Span feeds and at her employees. "A filibuster. A goddamn filibuster. Did we see this coming? What in God's name could she even have to be upset about? She's one of our guys. Liberal, Democratic. It's an education package. What is our problem here? Annabeth, wasn't this thing locked up this morning? I distinctly remember congratulating you on this being locked up this morning."

"It would seem that we underestimated Gardner's commitment to a rider she wanted to attach," Jason noted.

"Yeah, a multimillion-dollar rider, on a bill that we had the votes for!" Annabeth protested. "These things are Christmas-tree bills— everyone wants to add a new piece of trimming, of course you don't want to risk adding an extra star on top in case the whole thing topples over."

"Be that as it may, the whole thing seems to have toppled over, despite our best efforts," came the President's voice from the doorway. Brunner wheeled himself into Reyna's office, four Secret Service agents trailing him. Annabeth and Reyna were already standing, so Jason rose to his feet to join them. "Would someone mind explaining exactly what has happened here?"

"It's…" Annabeth glanced at Jason, who gave her an encouraging nod. "Percy got a call from Gardner yesterday, but we didn't think it was that serious."

The President gave her a look, not unkindly, over the wire rims of his spectacles. "I think she may have been serious. What was the call?"

"She wanted to add a bit about four million dollars being set aside for education outreach efforts for kids in foster care, with a focus on college application support, sir." Annabeth gestured at the screens. "But I don't understand why, exactly, she's this up in arms about it. It's a good bill. On paper, she should be backing it. We win more than we lose on this one, or at least we should, but we're already past the paper deadline and she's still going."

"What's after the recipes?" The President asked.

"Novels, probably." Reyna pointed up at the screen. "See, look."

Sure enough, the middle-aged Congresswoman from New York had just cracked the spine on a well-used paperback and began to read. "You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking…"

"Frankenstein?" Jason asked.

"Frankenstein," Reyna confirmed. "Well, at least the woman's got good taste."

Meanwhile, Annabeth was staring up at the video feed, which had begun a scrolling bio of Katie Gardner, with some details on who she was and speculation on why a random New York Congresswoman might be protesting a bill that had earned the otherwise wholehearted support of her own party.

"Hey, guys? Mr. President, sir?" She asked.

"What is it, Annabeth?" The President asked.

"Look," she pointed. "They just mentioned. Her daughter is adopted. You don't think…"

"Maybe this is bigger than we think," Jason agreed. "I'm calling Percy."

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Percy poked his head in. "Yeah, you don't have to. Look, I think I figured something out about Gardner. My friend Hazel, she's a sozcial worker in New York."

"Hazel Levesque?" Reyna asked. "She had coffee with Thalia last week. My wife spoke highly of her."

"Yeah, good, I'm glad, not the point," Percy said. "Listen, it's not just that her daughter's adopted. Gardner's a huge donor for a local youth center. She's got a half-sister who was in the news a few years back, they did one of those dumb DNA test things."

"I don't remember this at all." Annabeth blinked.

"I think I do, a little," Reyna said, crossing her arms. "It was before she ran, though, back when she was just a small-time community organizer."

"Right, her sister's Army," Jason nodded. "Enlisted, though, I think. Or ROTC, something like that. I met her at the gala a while back. Veteran, has a prosthetic hand."

"Enlisted. ROTC. Hang on, wait a second," Annabeth began to realize.

"Yeah." Percy held out his phone, showing texts from his friend Hazel. "Look. The sister grew up in foster care because no one knew she was a sister. Gardner's so vocal about this because her sister couldn't go to college without the army, and lost a hand in an IED in Afghanistan when she was twenty-two."

"So it's not about Gardner being a stubborn stick for the hell of it," Reyna groaned. "It's because it's personal."

"Annabeth, what are the stats on kids in foster care even applying to college, let alone getting accepted?" The President asked quietly.

"Between two and four percent get a four-year degree, between four and six get a two-year or drop out completely. Not sure what the stats are for applying in the first place. Compare that to the sixty-one percent of American kids who go straight to college right after graduating high school, and it's staggering." Annabeth glanced at the C-Span screen. "But… sir. the floor vote's supposed to be happening now."

"But what if it wasn't?" The President asked. "If there wasn't a deadline. If the vote could be pushed to tomorrow, and thus to the next convening, the next session. What would we do?"

"I mean, I want to help her out as much as the next person," Annabeth said, "but… if it goes back to the drawing board now, it might not get passed the next time around, sir."

"I don't know about that, actually," Jason said, suddenly standing up straighter. "This isn't just a foster care thing, it's a military thing, if we can spin it right. Republicans will love that."

"They absolutely will not," Reyna objected. "The argument here is that because the sister was in foster care, the military was her only way out. What Gardner wants is for education to be the way out, which means lower military enlistment numbers."

"That… is extremely gross, when you put it like that," Annabeth muttered.

"Look, can we dig up five million dollars from somewhere to attach them to this thing?" The President asked.

Reyna paused, but finally nodded. "We can work it out with ways and means, probably. But it's still a moot point. It doesn't matter if we have the money, because the thing is already on the floor. We can't go back and change it now, unless she keeps going all night."

"What does her continuing all night change?" Percy asked. "Wouldn't it still go to a vote right after that, whenever she stops?"

"Well, there are a few rules to a filibuster," Jason explained. "They can't sit, lean on anything, have a drink of water, or eat. So she's a little bit bound by physical limitations unless she wants to cede the floor, which I'm willing to bet she does not. And normally, whenever she's done, the vote continues. But this session..."

"It's right before the break," Annabeth jumped in. "That's why I was so worried about getting it done today. If it doesn't pass both chambers by midnight tonight, it has to wait until the next session. Which gives committees time to meet, and wiggle room for changes. Which we don't really want, because it'll change the content of the…" she stopped, eyes bright. "Wait."

"Care to share with the class?" Jason raised both eyebrows.

"She's just figured out that we can make the changes," the President stated, a twinkle in his eye. "I think we can, too."

"But… how?" Reyna asked. "She's going to have to sit down sometime. It's only four-thirty. That's another eight hours she has to fill. Do we even think she can do that?"

"There are some other ways," Jason grimaced. "If she ends her filibuster, another Senator can get up and do the same thing. She can yield the floor to another Senator. Or… I guess she could take a question."

"Wait, from whom?" Percy asked. "I thought yielding the floor to anyone, even another Congressperson, means you're done. Can Reps ask questions in a filibuster?"

"No, but other Senators can," Annabeth explained. "But… who do we even have who would support this?"

"I honestly don't know," Jason said, running a hand over his buzzed hair. "I'm pretty good at vetting and researching our guys, but…."

"They'll be pissed," Reyna agreed. "This thing was locked up and ready to launch, they won't be happy at the delay. So another Senator probably won't jump in to help, I'm guessing."

On the TV, Katie Gardner was continuing her reading. "As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a merchant who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous mischances…"

"She's still going strong," Annabeth observed. "How long have we got?"

"That's kind of an obscure bit of the rules, though," Reyna said doubtfully. "I only know it because Jason knows it, and no offense, but Jason only knows it because he's an unbelievable nerd."

"True," Jason said, "but it's about the only shot we've got. She's either going to have to know what we're doing, or blindly trust that we, or whoever we get, is on her side."

"It won't matter if she trusts it or not, if we don't get it done. We'd better start making calls." The President began to wheel himself out of the room. "This is our chance to do something good. Screw the red tape, let's get it done."

So they did.

They stayed until ten-thirty that night, as Katie Gardner read her way through all of Frankenstein and began to read the opening lines of Hamlet, too. She was wavering, her voice much hoarser than it had been twelve hours earlier, and she looked unsteady on her feet. But she kept going.

And then, finally, from the camera feed of the Senate floor: "Senator Gardner, a moment to acknowledge Senator Clovis of North Carolina. Will you yield the floor for a question?"

A dangerously long pause.

And then, finally: "I yield to the Senator from North Carolina."

And from Clovis: "My question quite detailed, and largely to do with the nature of education incentives in foster homes, as well as for foster students in government-funded education. Perhaps you might like to sit down while I ask it. My aide, who has accompanied me here tonight, has with us a few granola bars and a banana if you'd like…"

In her own office, Annabeth turned to Percy, who had wandered in a few moments after hanging up with Clovis. "So how did that happen?"

Percy cracked a smile. "It took two calls from me and finally one from the President, but it turns out Clovis adopted his two sons, about ten years back. He knows what the foster system is like for kids without educational support."

So it continued. After Clovis came Mitchell, and after Mitchell came Sherman. Until finally, the clock hit midnight, and the House session had no choice but to come to an end. The clock had run out on that particular meeting.

"Back to the drawing board, then," Annabeth said softly in her now-empty office, looking again at the stack of papers on her desk— the bill that she'd thought that morning was ready to pass.

"Maybe back to the drawing board, but with better tools," Piper said, poking her head in.

"You're still here?" Annabeth asked.

Piper brandished a piece of paper. "Reyna just heard back from her guy at Ways and Means. It's not a done deal yet, but that five million dollars is probably going to miraculously become available the next time this bill comes up for a vote. Just enough to attach a foster education support rider."

"Good. That's good." Annabeth leaned back in her chair. "What time is it?"

"Just before one," Piper said with a glance at her watch. "Want to get out of here?"

"God, yes," Annabeth said. "I can't tell which I want more, my pajamas or a drink."

"If you're getting a drink, I'm in," Percy said, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere behind Piper in the hallway.

"I'm in, too," Jason said, apparently having tagged along with Percy.

So the four of them trooped down the hall, past the empty cubicles, across the atrium floor, and down the drive. The sky was clear, and the stars shone brightly in the night sky over D.C. There was a chill bite to the air, but they were all tired, borderline delirious enough to not care.

On the way out of the building, Percy bumped Annabeth's shoulder with his own. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, somewhat blearily, blinking up at him.

"We did something good today," he said, a dimple flashing in his cheek. "We get to own that. We get to be proud of that."

"Yeah." A warm feeling rose in Annabeth's chest. "Yes, we do."

Aaaand we're back!

An extra-long chapter this time around. I can't promise the most regular of updates, but i AM still writing, I promise! Thank y'all, as always, for continuing to read this thing.

Special credit goes, of course, to the creators of the West Wing, in particular this time "The Stackhouse Filibuster." Additionally, my love for Frankenstein has leaked over into this chapter.

Finally, a note: those statistics for foster children and college education are accurate. Education access is something that I'm a pretty firm advocate for. Please, if you can, give to an education access fund. Encourage your university, if you graduated from or attend one, to engage in outreach towards high school students in foster care. the statistics are real and alarming- please look into that reality and do what you can to help change it.

~GT