Chapter Text
“Vigilance is moving,” the lead agent announced, and Cat rolled her eyes at the goddamned Secret Service name. The usual flurry activity surrounded her morning stroll from the Residence to the Oval, but the agents did at least keep the jostling to a minimum. When she reached the outer office and Siobhan stood to greet her, Lucy Lane finally broke through the throng to grab Cat’s attention.
“Good morning, Madam President. I just had a few questions about last night’s speech-”
“Good morning, Lucy,” Cat interrupted, brushing a piece of lint from her Prada blazer. “You know, in some civilized countries they let a person respond before starting on a list of their flaws.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Lucy looked contrite for all of a second, her iPad hugged close to her chest like a shield against Cat’s disapproval. “Only I was watching at home, big glass of wine, bowl of popcorn, a real Sunday night treat. So you can imagine my surprise when the section I was so looking forward to - the best section of the speech that I wrote - just didn’t come out of your mouth at all.”
“Lucy,” Hank chastized, coming in from his office to greet them in the Oval. In his black suit he might have been mistaken for an agent at first glance, his military build and bearing barely changed by civilian life. “It might be nice to let the president sit down before listing your grievances.”
“Oh that’s okay, Mr Henshaw. I can’t wait to hear how I’ve disappointed our resident idealist this time,” Cat let the note of warning ring out loud and clear, and Lucy reconsidered. “Does anyone have polling numbers for me yet?”
“I do,” Winn announced from the door, waving his tablet over his head. “Madam President, you might want to sit down for this one.”
“I thought we were betting on my numbers going up?” Cat was instantly suspicious. She should have known last night’s speech was too late to affect things, and Lucy was going to come back to her very valid point about the cut section like a dog with a bone.
“Oh, they did,” Winn was almost laughing as he said it. “Although Lucy predicted we’d take a hit, but most of us were quietly confident. We went up to 63!”
“63?” Cat gasped, sitting heavily in her chair. “We haven’t been that high since right after Inauguration. Right?”
“That’s right,” Lucy confirmed, high-fiving Hank and Winn in turn. James appeared just in time to join the celebrations, ready to gather the relevant information for the press briefing. He didn’t get a chance to ask before Lucy landed her coup de grâce. “That’s huge. Which means, Madam President, that it’s all the more bizarre that you would suddenly drop the section on gun control.”
“Well, I thought with me being the President and all…”
“Ma’am?”
“I have my reasons, Lucy. You really want to find fault when we have a 63% approval rating?”
“No, I do not,” Lucy admitted, clearly tabling the point for another go-round. “Hank, are you dealing with these environmental protestors, or did you need one of us to take it?”
“I’ve got a meeting with their lobbyists before lunch,” Hank answered. “You all have more than enough work to do, why don’t you go and get on with that?”
“Madam President,” James interjected. “I just wanted to clarify something about your speech last night. Some of the press had advance copies-”
“Nice vacation, Mr Olsen?” Cat diverted him for a moment. “It’s not often I can get any of you out of the door for a whole week, least of all to somewhere as chaotic as Metropolis.”
“It was great.” He certainly looked more well-rested. “Should I just turn everyone towards the new polling if they ask?”
“It’s almost like you people get paid to have bright ideas.” Cat nodded in approval. “Hank’s right, you should all be off chasing… truth, justice, and the American Way. Go, go! Yes, Siobhan?”
“You have the UN ambassador in a minute,” Siobhan informed her as the staff trooped out of the Oval. “But in the meantime, you forgot to sign Carter’s permission slip. Their night at the Observatory has been approved by Secret Service, so you can sign off.”
“But Carter’s upset he didn’t have it this morning?”
“Just a little,” Siobhan confirmed, notepad at the ready. “He’s home just after three, and you have fifteen minutes between the Treasury Secretary and your Gaza briefing? I could schedule-”
“Make sure I’m back in the Residence then,” Cat instructed. “Preferably with a pen and the permission slip, and that Mozart sheet music I had you pick up for him? Milk and cookies optional, but it might show willing on my part.”
“I’m sure Carter understands, President Grant.”
“I hope he does,” Cat sighed, checking her watch. “Shall we surprise the ambassador by being on time?”
“Alex!” Kara yelled, before toppling the Jenga tower of boxes to the floor. Moving was absolutely the worst. It had taken half an hour just to find two things that sort of went together, and the blue dress was a little more daring than she intended for a first impression, leaving Kara to hope the beige cardigan over it would help tone things down.
“If I’d known you were going to be late, I would have Ubered,” Kara grumbled when Alex finally appeared in the living room with coffee.
“We need to get this place fixed up,” Alex observed, handing over a latte. Hers was in a to-go cup but she had a travel mug for Kara’s, emblazoned with the logo of her new workplace. “Come on, traffic’s a bitch. Can’t be late on your first day. Astra said to drop you there, she ‘does not have time to babysit’.”
“You’d think getting a job in the same firm as my aunt would get me a little nepotism,” Kara groaned. “Wait, drop me there? As in…”
“The White House, yeah. Don’t worry, government plates get me closer than Uber could hope for. You won’t be late if I drop you on the corner of H.”
“I feel sick,” Kara confessed. “I can’t believe this is what I’m doing on my first day.”
“You had to figure your aunt was gonna test you one way or another,” Alex reminded her. “That’s what you get for coming in as the rising star.”
Kara groaned in agreement and followed Alex out to her waiting SUV. Kara felt suddenly glad they weren’t going to the office, since driving anything other than a hybrid there was sure to be professional suicide. She’d pick up her new Prius at the weekend, not having needed a car at all in Metropolis.
All too soon they arrived at the corner of H and Pennsylvania Avenue, not even Dupont Circle could slow them down. Kara leaned across the front seat to hug her sister and then hopped out into the throng of government employees and lobbyists scattering to their impressive DC jobs, reminding herself that at long last she was one of them. How many people got to sit in on a meeting with Hank Henshaw - the president’s Chief of Staff - on their very first day? Despite Astra’s often cold demeanor, Kara couldn’t help feeling that other people would not be thrown in at this particular deep end, so it had to be an honor of sorts.
Astra was already waiting at the gatehouse, her pass issued and hanging around her neck on a red lanyard. Immaculately presented as ever in a dark grey pantsuit with a crisp white shirt underneath, she had her hair scraped back into an impressive bun, just one strand falling out of place, drawing attention to the white streak next to it.
“Kara,” Astra greeted her formally, extending a hand as though they were meeting on the ropeline at a campaign event. “I did attempt to get your pass, but you have to present your own identification. Inefficient, but I suppose tight security is to be expected.”
“Hi, Aunt Astra,” Kara considered going for a hug over the handshake, but it didn’t feel entirely professional. “I’ve got my license right here, let’s do this. Are you excited?”
“The White House isn’t all that exciting after ten or twenty times,” Astra told her, but she forced a little smile in the name of family, or duty, or maybe just politeness at the way Kara was practically vibrating on the sidewalk. They approached the gatehouse in tandem, Kara brimming over at her first authentic White House moment.
“I’m Kara Danvers,” she explained to the smiling guard. “I’m from Metropolis, but I just moved here to start working with Myriad-”
“He doesn’t want your life story, Kara,” Astra interrupted.
“Sure I do,” the guard contradicted with a wink towards Kara. “This your boss?”
“She’s also my aunt,” Kara confided, drawing an impatient tut from Astra. “So what do you say? Am I on the list?”
“Well, it’s not exactly a nightclub, but sure,” the guard answered, laughing now. “One Kara Danvers, of Myriad International. Sign here and I’ll get you one of those pretty red ribbons for around your neck.”
“Thank you,” Kara signed the visitor screen and accepted the pass gratefully. “You have a great day now.”
“Kara,” Astra warned as they were buzzed through the gate and began the walk towards the north-west entrance. “You won’t get anything done in Washington by lingering over small talk and niceties. You have to show you mean business.”
Kara bit her tongue. She’d been raised to think quite differently, but being with Astra always made her miss her mother more profoundly, and it didn’t seem right to bring up one of the many ways in which the twin sisters had disagreed. Pulling the red cord over her head, Kara sped up to keep pace with her aunt.
Another security desk, a checkpoint and metal detector after that, and finally Kara and Astra were ushered to the outer office of the White House Chief of Staff. A brisk, short-haired woman eyed them warily from her desk, her military bearing at odds with the black skirt suit she wore.
“Hi,” Kara said with a little wave after the intern responsible for collecting them had departed. “I’m Kara Danvers and this is-” She was interrupted by a sharp jab of Astra’s elbow to her ribs.
“Susan Vasquez,” the secretary replied, glaring at Astra for a moment before offering Kara a conspiratorial smile. “And I’ve met Ms Inze before, you don’t need to introduce her. Hank will be with you in a moment.”
“No rush,” Kara assured her. “I’m still soaking it all in, you know? How much do you just love coming to work here every day, Susan?”
“Depends on the day,” Susan answered, before being interrupted by a ringing phone. She gave an apologetic smile before picking up. “White House Chief of Staff’s office.”
“Now when we get in there,” Astra took the pause in conversation to issue her directives. “I’ll do the talking. Henshaw is going to shoot us down, but we planned for that. Smile, nod, and we’ll be back at the office to set up your new email account before the coffee they serve you has time to cool.”
“... sure,” Kara agreed. She’d stayed up way too late memorizing talking points and poring over the latest data, but she had to figure that they wouldn’t expect her to charge in like a bull in a china shop on her first day. Her aunt liked to be in control, and Kara was perfectly good at following orders. Something buzzed gently on Susan’s desk, and she put her call on hold.
“Mr Henshaw will see you now. The panel is just assembling.”
Astra led the way, opening the door as though striding into her own home. Kara followed, wide-eyed at the scope and grandeur of the Chief of Staff’s office. One half of the room was dominated by an antique conference table, ten chairs around it, most of which are already occupied. She takes her seat second on the left, at Astra’s side. A moment later Hank finished with whatever pile of documents he was signing and came to greet them all, taking his place at the table’s head.
“Thank you all for joining me this morning. I know there’s an Environmental Summit next month, but the president wanted me to thank you all for your advice and consultation over the past few months. With all the relevant facts we’re now ready to put a Bill together, with the hope that it will be out of committee within six weeks.”
“That is excellent news,” Astra told him, her cold demeanor entirely melted. “We all understand that some compromises will have to be made.”
“Although not on the emissions reductions,” Kara chimed in, surprised at the lack of fight her aunt was showing. “I think I speak for all of us when we say that was a minimum, not an, um, aspiration.”
Her bravado wilted when every person in the room turned to stare at her.
“You must be Kara Danvers,” Hank said, his smile not entirely unkind. “I was a great fan of your mother’s, and I was fortunate to hear your father speak a few years ago. I, for one, am honored to be working with you. They’re greatly missed.”
Astra laid a soothing hand on Kara’s shoulder, and she was glad of it. No matter how normalized her loss seemed to be, every new person with fond memories of her parents was a new emotional challenge to overcome.
“Thank you. They were fans of the president, too,” Kara told him. “When she was Governor, I mean.”
“I’m sure we’ll all be happy to endorse the president’s Bill,” an older man across the table interrupted, clearly wanting some of the limelight. “When might we see a draft?”
“Soon, Dirk,” Hank promised.
“You don’t have copies now?” Kara was astounded at the news. “But isn’t that what this meeting is about?”
“We can’t all be as efficient as you were back in Metropolis, Ms Danvers,” Hank teased. “You’ll find things a little slower over here in the public sector.”
“I don’t work in the public sector,” Kara argued right back. “I’m a lobbyist, and I can’t do my job if the White House won’t provide us with the relevant information.”
“I see your reputation for getting things done was no exaggeration,” Dirk chimed in. “We were sorry to lose out on you to Myriad, young lady.”
“Family ties,” Astra answered for her. “Please, forgive my niece Hank. She’s only just gotten to town, and I daresay she hasn’t caught up on all our latest correspondence yet.”
“No, I have,” Kara continued, consulting her notes. She fiddled with her glasses, which had slipped down her nose just a little. “And every report, every metric, every country whose top scientists were consulted has given us that minimum standard. I bet if we saw a draft bill, we’d see the administration is only asking for about 50% of what’s necessary. So as not to lose votes in California and Michigan. Or did we all agree to forget that next year is an election year? I sure didn’t.”
“We would like,” Hank began, before changing tack. “No, we expect the endorsement of Myriad International for the Bill we think will actually pass the House and Senate. We’re all adults, and we can agree that there’s no point in sinking a lot of good initiatives over one number.”
“You think we’ll roll over on this because someone’s finally agreed to clean up the water in Flint?” Kara answered. “Something that should have been done five years ago, without any kind of lobby needing to get involved at all? I appreciate your boss didn’t cause that problem, she inherited it. But if she can’t fix problems like that, she might as well be the President of Disneyland for all the good she’s doing.”
“Well,” came an amused drawl from somewhere behind Kara. “I don’t know, I hear the lines at Space Mountain are much shorter these days. Don’t I get credit for that?”
Everyone in the room gets to their feet, pushing their chairs back and straightening their spines. Kara is the last to react, turning to face the speaker.
Who was none other than President Catherine Grant. Kara closed her eyes, praying for a meteor to hit her. Space refused to provide, and so she opened her eyes again.
“Mrs… Your Honor… Madam President,” she settled on eventually. “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“How’s it going Hank?” The president asked, a twinkle in her eye. “You had to call in the Marines yet?”
“Not yet, ma’am.”
“Madam President, my name is Astra Inze, from Myriad? We met at the fundraiser for Senator Lord last month? I’d just like to apologize for my niece-”
“She’s your niece?”
“Yes, and she’s just joined us at Myriad. I’m afraid she hasn’t taken many meetings on this level, and what she meant to say was-”
Cat held up a hand, silencing Astra. “So you’re the infamous Keira Danvers? I’ve heard you’re quite a hero back in Metropolis. The Governor complains about your triumphs at least once a month. First the schools, then the crime rate. Now you’re going to save the rainforests, is that right?”
“Myriad is an environmental organisation,” Kara confirmed, just about sweating through her shirt with the stress of it all. “And it’s Kara, actually. But like I was saying, I really am sorry-”
“Siobhan, can you show Keira through to the rec room? You don’t mind if we have a quick word in private, do you?” Cat asked, as though Kara had any say in the matter at all when the leader of the free world was requesting her presence. So she nodded, struck temporarily dumb, and let the dark-haired woman lead her out into the carpeted hallway and around a curved wall towards an office.
“You know, I can just go,” Kara offered. “If she just wants to yell, I can skip that part.”
“Oh, it’s going to be so much worse than yelling,” Siobhan supplied with a sadistic little smile. “Here we are,” she announced, opening a door that blended in a little too well with the paintwork. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink?”
“No thanks,” Kara replied, stepping through the door. “Any more coffee and I might pee right here on the… carpet.” Which would make it the carpet of the Oval Office. The place she’d dreamed about seeing since her mother first told her about it as a child. It hadn’t been available on the tours for years, not even when the president was out of the country. Kara couldn’t believe she was finally standing there at last.
A moment later, yet another door opened and the president herself came striding in. She wore a two-tone dress in black and blue, the American flag pin in place over her heart, and one of those signature necklaces the press tried to divine meanings of around her neck. Those soft blonde curls fell neatly on either side of her face, and as she took up position standing behind her desk, President Grant picked up a pair of reading glasses and put them on to glance at some papers waiting for her.
It absolutely felt like a don’t speak unless spoken to situation, and yet Kara felt her mouth start to move anyway.
“President Grant, I really do apologise. It’s my first day with Myriad and I was trying to prove to my aunt that I can be taken seriously, that I can do a good job for our organization. I let that go too far and I am so embarrassed, mortified really, that I let that descend into a personal insult towards you.”
“Are you quite done, Keira?” The president pulled her glasses back off, running the tip of them over her bottom lip as she took in Kara’s ensemble, really seeing her for the first time. “That blue was a bold choice. Don’t get a lot of color in Washington.”
“And not a lot of people of color in your Cabinet either,” Kara went right back on the defensive, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Is there a trapdoor, maybe? Or can you ask the Secret Service to step in and put me out of my misery?”
“Oh, they’ll do that if I ask,” President Grant agreed, stalking her way around the impressive desk that dominated even in such a large room. Unlike the walnut and mahogany ones that other presidents had, hers was glass and light wood, toned in perfectly to the colors of the space. It made it look like her personal domain, something that had never been shared with anyone else, despite the 44 men who came before her. “And you have a point on the Cabinet. When I’m re-elected we’ll push harder on nominations.”
“If you’re re-elected,” Kara argued back. “Which will be harder to do if you keep alienating your allies on the left. Like the environmental lobby.”
“As a Democrat with 63% approval rating, that’s not how it looks from over here,” Cat pointed out. “If I want to turn that into 73%, telling the environmental lobby to go hug a tree would only help my cause. Luckily for you, I believe in science more than spite.”
“That is lucky,” Kara agreed. “And science says you should call emissions to be capped at-”
“You’re asking for 10% more than I can ever get passed.” The president leaned against the front of her desk, gesturing with her reading glasses in hand. “We floated your numbers, and we’re 34 votes short with that cap in the Bill.”
“You keep all that information in your head?” Kara blurted. She knew the staffers traded in information at that level of detail, but her impression of presidents had always been that they’re handed the talking points on the way into the meeting.
“Numbers are easy,” Cat answered with a shrug. “It’s remembering the second verse of songs that gets me.”
“Right.” Kara fidgeted with the button on her cardigan, before settling for gripping the back of the sofa. “I really do apologize. As a professional political operative, and a guest at the White House, it was inexcusable.”
“Do I seem angry to you?”
“...no?”
“I’m not.” The president tilted her head, indicating Kara should approach. It took a frightening amount of concentration not to faceplant on the few hesitant steps. “You’re not wrong, Ms Danvers. God knows I used to be an optimist myself, but I hear you get results, too.”
Kara nodded. She worked hard, and the results spoke for themselves.
“So get the first 24 votes,” Cat instructed. “You’re a lobbyist? Lobby. Do that by the State of the Union and I’ll get you the other ten. Do we have a deal?”
“Is this how you do business?” Kara asked. “Private deals, no witnesses?”
“Well you’re forgetting the office is probably bugged,” Cat said with a wicked smile. “I’ll have my secretary put it in writing, if that sweetens the deal. This is important to me, and I can see it’s important to you.”
“It is.” Kara extended her hand, praying her palm wasn’t sweaty. “But in a civilized society, when two people make a deal? They shake on it.”
She expected the brushing contact of a politician’s handshake, the briefest of touches like on a ropeline with a hundred hands waiting to press the flesh. Instead, President Grant took Kara’s hand firmly in her own, squeezing lightly and gripping Kara’s wrist with her other hand.
“Then we have a deal.” She held on just a moment longer than necessary, and Kara started to feel a little faint. “Did you get to eat in the meeting? Hank’s idea of catering is lousy, and I skipped breakfast. I can get you coffee, a donut? Although we have these cupcakes that the pastry chef whips up for me… I don’t usually share.”
“That would… no thank you,” Kara declined with considerable effort, her mouth watering at the thought. “I’m a little thrown off by the location, but I don’t want you to mistake that for me not having the courage to fight on this issue. I’m going to get those 24 votes, Madam President. And if you don’t honor our deal, we’ll go looking for a new Democrat in the primaries.”
Cat Grant smiled at her almost in wonder, as though discovering Kara could speak another language fluently.
“I’d expect nothing less. Challenging a sitting president is a risky strategy.”
Kara made her way towards one of the room’s many doors. “I’m nothing special,” she insisted. “I’m just a normal person with a job to do. But if I decide on that strategy, no one can stop me.” Except for her aunt, possibly.
“Actually, they can if you go through that door,” Cat countered, heading back behind her desk. “The sniper on the roof opposite will, anyway. That’s a restricted area.”
“Of course.” Kara turned around, trying to get her bearings. Eventually the president took pity and indicated the door Kara had entered through, gesturing with her pen. Blushing brightly enough to land a 747, Kara slipped out into the corridor. No sign of Siobhan, but Astra was making her way down the corridor in long strides.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Kara confessed. “I really don’t know.”