I am totally cheating because I already have a rampant girl!crush on her. She is brilliant. Utterly brilliant. *hearts like a mofo*

YOU KNOW IT. THAT WILL BE LATER IN THE VERSE, ONCE OBAMA HAS WON THE PRESIDENCY AND RAHM'S BELIEF IN THE VALUE OF HIS INVESTMENT IN OBAMA HAS BEEN THOROUGHLY JUSTIFIED. BECAUSE, YOU KNOW, NOW HE OWNS THAT MOFO PRESIDENT'S ASS.

-

It was late at night when Rahm got the call from Michelle, who was currently in Darfur raising awareness for the genocide orphans.

He was still awake, going over the latest reports from New York on the viability of continuing with the current level of cocaine imports versus investing more money into the international arms trade.

"The girls' nanny called and Barack hasn't gone home yet. I can't get through to him and they say he locked himself in the Oval Office hours ago and no-one's heard from him since." Her voice had been carefully calm, only wavering the smallest possible inch at the last few words.

She called him because she knew he was currently in DC, setting up a more permament base of operations now that Barack was in the White House, and so within minutes he was barelling past the security guards, flashing the permanent pass he'd been granted, and totally ignoring the protests of Barack's lone remaining aide as he pummelled the door to the Oval Office.

"You fucker! Do you have any fucking idea how worried you have Michelle?" Not to mention me. He yelled out, thumping on the door a couple more times for good measure.

The door swung open silently after a silent moment, and Rahm smirked at the visibly rattled aide before walking in and slamming, yes slamming the door to the Oval Office shut behind him.

He closed his mouth on the tirade that had been building up for the entire drive over when he saw Barack collapse onto one of the couches, shirtsleeves rolled up and crumpled, a half-empty decanter of scotch on the coffee table. He leant forward, bracing his arms on his knees, head hanging and not meeting Rahm's eyes.

"Sorry." His voice was cracked and rasping, as if he was forcing the word out against his better judgement.

Rahm didn't say a word, just sat opposite him, eyes intent.

After long minutes, Barack reached out and grabbed the glass, tipping it slightly and watching the liquid roll.
"It's China." His voice was so goddamned tired. "The talks broke down. We're not going to get them to work with us on the human rights issues."

When Barack finally lifted his head with a heartbroken look on his face and impotent fury burning in his eyes, tie pulled loose and to the side like it never, ever was in the White House, Rahm's blood boiled and he swore just one thing.

Those cocksuckers in China were going the fuck down for doing putting that look on Barack's face.

-