Russel looks out for Elizabeth after the 3x15 ending.
Edited for grammar and phrasing 10/22/2023.
After watching Conrad and Andrada give a press conference, I'm standing in the Oval. I haven't given myself much time to think about what happened. I've been too busy cleaning up the mess. The President of the Philippines groped me. A world leader sexually assaulted another world leader. I would never admit it out loud to anyone, but I was scared. I was terrified when he sat me down in that chair to circle me until I was safely back on Air Force Three. I never want to experience something like that again, but I wish I could talk about what happened. I wish I could move the fight against workplace harassment and assault forward. But I couldn't because my job was more important than what happened to me. It shouldn't be. I should've been able to scream about what Andrada did from the rooftops. I should've been able to speak up, but the world still doesn't work that way. So I cleaned up his mess. I saved our Defense Cooperation Agreement with the Philippines and the first phase of the Singapore Interchange. That is going to have to be enough.
It isn't, though, not really. We know that the President of the Philippines is a harasser and an assaulter. And I put money on him being worse than that. And he gets away with it. What happened to me will never matter because Elizabeth and the Secretary are two different people. Even though taming Andrada was a big win for the Secretary of State, the world didn't change, at least not enough. It never will. That's just how the world works. One day, it'll matter, and people will get to live in a world where they're treated like humans and not things, but that day is not today. I've done everything I can for today. It'll have to be enough. I exit through the oval and onto the Colonnade. When I hear Andrada behind me, I startle slightly, take my hands out of my pockets, and compliment him. Maybe that will make him leave me alone.
"Nice Speech." I hope my voice isn't shaky. I hope that I sound strong. He's going on about how he played the press, China, and the US—and stating some bullshit about how it was his plan all along. I nod and agree, telling him I'll see him in Singapore. I need to get away from him. I start walking faster, trying to get to the door and back into the West Wing so I can go home and cuddle safely in Henry's arms.
When I feel his hand on my shoulder, I cringe. I hate this. I hate how he makes me feel. I try to ignore him, but he keeps following me.
"So now we are even," he says. He is a pig. I want to vomit. I decide to turn around and face him. He stops me. He doesn't want me to face him. I stare at him. I want him to know that I'm not scared of him. Well, I at least want him to think I'm not afraid of him. He's standing close to me, way closer than I'd like. I know what he did to me was bad, but I also have the statements of the other women he's hurt and harassed. At least I got away from him quickly.
"Who, you and I?" I make my voice as even as possible. I see my chance to get the upper hand and take it. It's his turn to sweat and wonder what I can do to him. "You know, I'm actually glad you brought that up. No, we're not even. And when I determine the time is right, I will tell the world what you did to me," I lean in and whisper, like a cop circling a suspect, "and what I did to you. Then, well, maybe we'll be even. But if I hear about you sparring with any other unwilling partners, that time will come sooner rather than later."
I've got a sick satisfaction that washes over me when he doesn't respond. He stares at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. I go to walk away but can't resist getting one last dig in, "Oh, and Datu when we do see each other in Singapore, you call me 'Madam Secretary.'"
This time, I do walk away, fast. The anxiety is sudden but not surprising. It's been under the surface, waiting for me to release it. I know I'm crying because I feel hot tears on my face. I look around and see the people in the hallway watching me. They're wondering what happened, but I don't want to tell them. Russell Jackson materializes out of nowhere.
"Let's go somewhere quiet, Bess." He takes my arm and leads me to his office. Once inside, he shuts the door.
"Just breathe, Bess." Russel never judges. We don't talk about it ever, though, either. We are just two people with huge jobs and the same trauma mark. I try to breathe, and I try to stop the tears, but I can't. I hate crying in front of people. The only person I let see me cry is Henry. But right now, I'm crying in Russell Jackson's office after a week of cleaning up a mess that wasn't mine. After a week of being too busy to think about how Datu Andrada made me feel.
"You should go home. You've had a long week. And, if I haven't said it before now, I'm sorry about what happened to you." He says it with such sincerity that I'm taken aback. Russel and I don't do sincerity. We are usually friendly advisories. Sometimes, we have our inside jokes, but we don't get personal.
"Thanks, Russel. Goodnight." I nod at him and stand to leave.
"Take care of yourself, Bess." And like that, the moment is over, and he is yelling for Adele to grab a report from DOD. I head home.