THIRTY-FOUR

“Romeo!” Cate breathed out the boy’s name in a startled squeak, her cheeks flaming guiltily.  Instinctively she tugged the covers up over her chest.  Beneath the blankets she heard a muffled curse as her thighs clenched shut.  “What… Honey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.  I want Daddy.” 

Romeo’s pitiful whine made Cate’s heart clench sympathetically.  “He’s… uh… he’s here, Romey.  Just a… minute.”  She didn’t know what else to say as she felt the large lump under the covers shift.  Cate struggled to hold on to her edge of the sheets as Jon crawled to the edge of the bed, attempting to covertly escape from his concealment.

A quiet sob drifted across the room.  “Daaaaah-deeee…”

“Oh, Honey, don’t cry!”  Cate sat up worriedly, half-turning on the bed.  She patted the mattress where Jon had reclined minutes ago.  “Come here.  He’ll be right here, I promise.”

With a snuffly moan the boy shuffled across the carpet toward the bed.  “I don’ feel good, Cate,” he repeated listlessly.

“Romey, I’m here.  Buddy, what’s wrong?”  Jon lithely stood, rising from the floor on the opposite side of the bed from his youngest son.  His voice was soft and comforting, but concerned.

“My tummy.  It really hurts, Dad.”   Romeo stopped at the side of the bed, staring miserably at the mattress.

“Hurts how?  Does it just feel all queasy and icky, like it’s full?  Or does it feel like somebody’s punching you, a sharp pain?”  Jon moved around the foot of the bed toward Romeo. 

“Like it’s all icky and full.”  Romeo sobbed again quietly.  “It huuuuuurrrts….”

“Okay, okay.  Lemme see, Buddy…” Jon sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Romeo’s middle.  He gently tugged up the boy’s pajama shirt.  Carefully, Jon slid his palm over his son’s distended belly.

“Feels like you’re pretty full,” he agreed, his voice calm and soothing.  “But it doesn’t hurt where I touch, does it?”

“Nuh-uh.”  Romeo shook his head morosely. 

“Does he have a fever?”  Cate’s worried question interrupted Jon’s evaluation. 

Jon reached up to brush aside Romeo’s damp bangs.  “He’s a little warm, but not bad.  Clammy though.”  He turned his attention back to his son.  “Buddy, did you go to the bathroom before you went to bed?”

“Uh huh.”

Jon glanced sideways at Cate.  “And did you brush your teeth after you ate all those chocolate mints I know you and your brother smuggled out of the restaurant?”  His voice held a tiny smirk.

“Uh huh.”  Romeo didn’t even realize his admission, in his state of exhausted discomfort.  “Daaaaadddd….”

“I think what we have here is a classic bellyache.”  Jon smiled sympathetically at his littlest boy.  “Too much excitement and too much junk food.”

“Daddy, it hurts….”

“I know, Buddy.  Listen, why don’t you climb up in my bed and I’ll go get you some medicine, okay?  Cate will take care of you until I get back.”

“Daddy, no!  Don’t go!”  Romeo sobbed at Jon’s intention.  “Stay here!”

“Romey, it’s okay,” Cate’s eyes misted at her stepson’s pitiful wail.  “Come up here beside me.  I’ll stay with you.”

“I want Mama!” Romeo began to cry harder, lost to his self-pity. 

“Romeo.”  Jon slid off the edge of the bed, dropping to a knee next to his son.  He enfolded the boy gently in his arms, careful not to squeeze his obviously uncomfortable belly.  He swallowed hard as he felt hot tears trickle against his chest.

“I’m just going to the hotel lobby, to get you some tummy medicine, okay?  I’ll be right back, I promise.  Just five minutes.”

“No.”  Romeo shook his head against his father’s chest, smearing tears and snot into Jon’s chest hair.

“Well, then… your tummy’s just gonna keep hurting.  Do you want it to hurt all night long?”  Jon’s tone was firmer, but still sympathetic.

“No.”

“Then I have to get you some medicine.  It’s not gonna stop hurting by itself.”  Jon pulled back a bit, craning his neck to look down at Romeo’s tear-stained face.  “And how about I bring you a soda, too?  You can have a little after you take your medicine.  The bubbles will help your tummy.”

Romeo sniffled loudly, then looked hopefully up at his father’s concerned face.  “I want a Sprite.”  His voice was small. 

“Then you have to stay here with Cate while I go get it.”  Jon tipped his head toward Romeo’s stepmother as he spoke to the boy.  “You can lay here in my bed.  She’ll rub your tummy if you want her to.  Like Mama does?”

Romeo considered his father’s proposal for a moment before nodding sadly.  “Okay,” he agreed in a tiny voice.  “But just ‘til you get me a Sprite.”

Jon looked up at Cate, his little smirk half-visible in the backlit glow of the television.  “Deal.  Stepmama will take good care of you ‘til I get back in a few minutes.”  He gently released his embrace, then stood.  “Climb up in bed, now.”

Listlessly, Romeo did as he was told, letting out a little whimper of discomfort with his movement.  Cate quickly pulled two pillows from her stack and laid them out to cradle the boy’s head. 

As Jon helped Romeo settle Cate reached beneath the covers to hitch up her pajama bottoms.  She shuddered slightly at the possibility that Romeo might later question what he had seen when he entered their bedroom.  He didn’t need to also discover she was bare-assed in bed.

Perched again on the edge of the mattress, Jon leaned down to press a kiss against Romeo’s clammy forehead.  “Okay, Buddy.  One Sprite and one tummy pill coming up.”  He glanced up at Cate.  “They should have Tums in the lobby shop, right?”

“I’m sure they do.  Or there’s a Wawa across the street.  I’m positive they’d have them.” 

Jon reached for the floor, picking up his discarded t-shirt.  He quickly turned it right-side out and pulled it over his head.  Standing up from the bed, he shook out and stepped into his jeans.

“You gonna be okay with him?”  Jon nodded at Romeo as he fastened his fly.

Cate looked sympathetically down at her miserable stepson.  “Yeah, we’ll be fine.  Just hurry, okay?”  She reached up to smooth Romeo’s unruly bangs away from his damp forehead.  He squealed disagreeably with her action, but lay still.

“Okay.  I’ll be right back, Romeo.”  Jon picked up his wallet from the dresser and slid it into his back pocket, then disappeared through the bedroom door.  A few seconds later Cate heard the suite’s exterior door open and shut.  Romeo also heard the sound and sobbed quietly.

“Romey, you want me to rub your tummy?” Cate asked gently.  “It might help.”

“I want Daddy.”

“He’ll be right back.  But until he brings your medicine and your Sprite, why don’t you let me rub your tummy?  It might make you feel better.”  Cate gave the boy an encouraging smile.

“Okay,” Romeo replied unenthusiastically.  His tear-streaked cheeks shone in the dim electric glow of the television as he stared miserably at the screen.

Cate shifted beside the boy, turning on her hip and draping her arm across the top of his pillow.  With her other hand she gently tugged up his pajama top, baring his tummy.  She winced in silent sympathy at the sight of Romeo’s distended little belly.  It was obvious he was in need of relief.

“It’s gonna be okay, Romey,” Cate whispered soothingly as she gently laid her palm against his stomach.  “The medicine Daddy’s bringing you will make it better.”  She began to lightly rub her palm in a slow circle over Romeo’s taut skin.  “Do you want me to turn off the TV?”

“No.  I like Guy.”  Romeo’s small voice was a little calmer. 

“Okay.”  Cate smiled and shifted a little more, finding a more comfortable lean.  Together she and the boy sat silent, watching the figures on the screen.  Cate’s hand continued to circle lightly over Romeo’s belly, soothing his discomfort with her rhythmic caress.

Nearly fifteen minutes had passed by the time the second commercial break aired.  His attention distracted from the television show, Romeo whimpered crankily.  He let out another pitiful squeak as he tried to sit up, brushing away Cate’s touch from his middle and replacing her hand with his own.

“Where’s Daddy?  It huuuuuuurts….”

Cate shot a worried glance toward the bedroom door, wondering the same thing.  “I’m sure he’s on his way back, Romey.  He probably had to go across the street to get your medicine.”

“Caaaate….”  Romeo’s whine was interrupted by his loud burp.  The discomfort that followed his emission made the boy yelp, then begin to cry.  “Owwww!”

“Romeo…” Cate’s own anxiety was reflected in her voice.  “Oh, Honey… just try to calm down…”

At exactly that moment Cate heard the welcome metallic rattle of the suite’s doorknob turning.  “Oh thank God,” she muttered gratefully, sitting up in the bed beside Romeo.  She turned toward the distressed little boy at her side, her hand settling on his warm back.  “Romey, Daddy’s back…”

Romeo’s choked sobs took on a different tone, turning to a guttural gurgle.  “Cate…”  He barely choked out her name in a throaty retch as the boy turned his face toward his stepmother. 

“Hey Buddy!  I got your medicine and your soda…”  Jon opened the bedroom door just in time to witness the vomit spew from his youngest son’s gaping mouth… right onto his startled wife’s lap.  He froze, shocked at the scene.

Cate gasped as she saw the contents of Romeo’s upset stomach pool on the comforter that thankfully covered her lap.  She first comprehended the weight of the wet mess on her legs, then the warmth, then the creeping dampness against her skin.

Then the smell hit her.

Choking back her gag reflex, Cate looked away from the carnage to her stepson’s miserable profile.  Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gagged loudly, his head bowed and saliva dribbling from his open mouth.  Automatically her hand moved to rub between his shoulder blades, trying to calm him and to prevent a second wave.

“Romey, Honey… it’s okay.  You’ll feel better now that you got all that yucky stuff out of your tummy.”  Cate’s ingrained crisis management demeanor took over, keeping her voice even and her expression veiled while inside she struggled to keep her own queasy stomach in check.

Jon’s eyes widened at Cate’s reaction, then he stumbled into action.  Rushing into the bathroom, he yanked a clean hand towel from the bar and dashed back to the messy scene.  Jon silently handed the towel to Cate as he sat on the edge of the mattress, his bag of purchases still clutched in his other hand.

“Buddy, it’s alright.”  Jon’s hand covered Cate’s on his little boy’s back.  “You couldn’t help it.”  He lowered his face to plant a kiss against the side of Romeo’s bowed head, trying to ignore the foul sight and smell just inches away.

Cate quickly pressed the clean towel against Romeo’s mouth, gently wiping away a thick strand of drool.  “It’s okay,” she repeated softly.  “Here.  Sit up, Romeo.  Let Daddy help you.”

Romeo responded sluggishly, raising his head and his shoulders before leaning sideways to slump against Jon’s shoulder.  His pitiful whine was followed by a wet, gagging cough. 

Jon tensed in anticipation of a second discharge, then exhaled with relief when it didn’t happen.  He slipped his arm around his son, cradling the poor boy against his shoulder. 

Dropping another kiss against the top of Romeo’s head, Jon glanced up at Cate.  He found her staring wide-eyed back at him, a combination of shock, disgust, and sympathy painting her expression.   Despite the tragic circumstances, the corners of Jon’s mouth curled in a bemused smirk. 

He glanced again at her vomit-covered lap and winced, quickly returning his gaze to Cate’s.  “Welcome to Motherhood, Baby,” he half-whispered, his smirk turning into an ironic grin.

Cate stared dazedly back at him, speechless.  Then a slow smile curved her lips as she realized the comedy of the situation.  She and Jon exchanged a look of unspoken prediction that this would likely not be the last time they shared such an experience.

From inside Jon’s embrace came a small voice, the question making him chuckle.

“Daddy?  Can I have my Sprite now?”

*****

Jon growled and yanked the page from his legal pad.  He crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the open briefcase resting on the seat at his side, then scowled down at the blank tablet on his knee.  He could see the indentation of his discarded scrawl on the fresh page.

Cate looked up from her iPad, silently noting her husband’s frustration.  She peered calmly over the top of her reading glasses as she waited for the retort she knew was coming.

“Fuck it.  I should just call and have their people give me some shit to say.”  Jon fidgeted in his seat, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs and shifting the writing pad in his lap.

“You could do that,” Cate observed calmly.  “That would be the easy way out.”

Her subtle needle hit its mark.  Jon snorted derisively.  “Yeah, and I’d sound like some boring stuffed shirt.  Plus they’d probably get it all wrong.”

“Well it is the Government.” 

Cate’s wry observation from the facing seat made Jon growl softly again.  He got the message; she wasn’t going to put up with his whining.  “So if I want it done right I gotta do it myself, huh?”

“Probably so.”  Cate returned her gaze to the screen in front of her.  A tiny smirk turned the corner of her lightly-glossed lips as she skimmed over the text on her tablet, brushing up her own presentation set for later in the day.

Jon sighed heavily and turned his face to the train car’s window.  He stared at the rushing scenery for a few minutes, thinking.  His remarks for this evening were meant to be casual and to a friendly audience, but he never felt completely comfortable in the Washington D.C. spotlight.  Jon was fully conscious of the fact that, in that realm, he was rarely even close to the brightest or most powerful guy in the room.

Realizing his wife had gone back to her own work, Jon returned his attention to her.  He tipped his head back against the first-class seat’s leather headrest and stared.  He couldn’t help but smile a little at what he saw. 

Cate was the vision of a high-powered business woman in her dark gray tailored trouser suit and crisp white blouse.  Her auburn hair was pulled back from her face, wound into a neat bun at the back of her head.  Tortoiseshell-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, aiding her deep sapphire eyes that were narrowed in concentration. 

Jon’s smile turned to a proud smirk.  He was sure to unsuspecting admirers Cate would look like a corporate leader, traveling the New York to Washington Acela train for high-stakes entrepreneurial affairs.  What they didn’t know was  there was a powerful handgun concealed at her waist and she could maim them with a single tactical strike.

Jon’s eyes dropped from Cate’s lovely face, following the line of her jaw downward.  A thin platinum chain circled Cate’s graceful throat, the engraved pendant obscured by her modestly buttoned blouse.  Though he couldn’t see it, Jon knew the Tiffany tag that nestled between her breasts was one of the few sentimentalities Cate allowed herself when she was working.  He had given it to her last fall, when her confidence was waning.  It was a reminder of their solidarity and devotion as they worked through the difficult struggle toward parenthood. 

Jon’s smirk gentled again as he saw that today she was wearing her wedding band, another symbol of their love.  Like her husband, Cate didn’t always wear her rings when she was working.  He preferred to leave his band in a safe place while he was onstage; she chose to conceal her marital status for security reasons.  Seeing the diamond and platinum circles on Cate’s finger when she was in agent-mode always made its symbolism more poignant to Jon.  It affirmed the place of priority he knew he held in her life.

“It’s not polite to stare, Jon.”

Cate’s quiet murmur made him chuckle.  She hadn’t looked up, hadn’t given any other acknowledgement of his attention.  

“Can’t help it.  I like your hair up like that.  And you know how I love those glasses.”  Jon gave her a cheeky grin when she glanced up at him.  “You look like some kinda sexy librarian.”

Cate rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop a little smile.  “The librarian fantasy?  Really?”

“Yeah.  You’d be a totally hot librarian.  One of those skinny skirts, black patent heels…”

“Jon, write your speech.”

“And the way you give me that stern little look when I’m not doin’ what I’m supposed to…”

“Jon.”

Jon chortled, knowing he had her attention now.  He stared at Cate for a moment until she sighed and dropped her iPad to her lap.  Cate looked up at him, giving him a tight-lipped, resigned smile.

“Okay, what’s the deal?  It’s just a short little three-minute thing introducing the new program.”  Cate’s expression softened.  “Baby, you can do that in your sleep.  You talk about the Kitchen all the time.”

Jon fidgeted again, this time uncrossing his legs and propping one foot on the empty opposite facing seat, next to where Cate sat.  “I know.  But this is kinda different…. It’s not the usual spiel for the soundbyte.  These men and women are all Department people, the ones who are gonna make this whole initiative fly.  I gotta give them something more than “The Power of We.”

“Jon, it’s not a press conference.  All you gotta do is get up there and tell them a story and thank them in advance for all the hard work they’re gonna do.”  Cate chuckled softly at her husband’s insecurity.  “It’s a cocktail reception, Jon.  Nobody wants to hear the bureaucrat-ese.  The people at this thing just want to have their three glasses of chardonnay and swoon over how handsome and charming and funny and not-at-all-rockstar-like you are.”

“But I don’t want to waste their time, Cate.  I need to say something of substance.  It’s not like I can just get up there and shake my ass and smile.” 

“So don’t waste their time.”  Cate gestured toward the blank legal pad on Jon’s lap.  “Don’t write anything.  Just speak from the heart.  Tell them how this whole thing started, with Leon.” 

She smiled gently at the memory of the homeless man whose story had so touched her husband’s heart.  “The only thing you need to have on an index card is the names and titles of the Secretaries, so you don’t fuck ‘em up when you introduce them.  Other than that… Just be you, Baby.  That’s what people want to see.”

“The rockstar in a suit?”  Jon chuckled ironically.

“No, the rockstar with a heart of gold.”

Jon’s eyes met hers, his heart squeezing at the affection he saw in Cate’s shining sapphire gaze.  He sighed softly.  Of course she was right.  She usually was, when it came to things like this.  His wife saw him in a different light than anyone else in his life ever had.  She wasn’t just his best friend and lover, she was his fan and his honest critic.  And she certainly knew the fickle world of politics and Government better than he did.   

“Yeah, okay.”  Jon nodded slowly, then tossed the legal pad onto the opposite seat.  He reached forward to give Cate’s knee a little squeeze.  “I’ll get the intro stuff this afternoon.  I’m sure there’ll be some young intern at the meeting, in need of something to do.”

“Good.”  Cate gave Jon a curt nod.  “Now I’ve gotta go over my presentation.”  She raised the iPad, tilting it on her lap so she could see the screen.

“What time do you give it, again?”

Cate sighed softly and dropped the tablet again.  She gave Jon a patient smile.  “I told you.  I have to be at Main Justice at ten.  There I meet with the P.C. section to go over the case.  We have a lunch, then I brief the A.A.G at three.”

Jon smirked.  “P.C.?  A.A.G?  E-I-E-I-O…  Again, in English, por favor?”

Cate giggled in spite of herself.  “Fine.  I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but since I know you’ll badger me relentlessly… I’m meeting with the Public Corruption Section Chief at the Department of Justice.  He’s the guy who reads all my status reports.  We have some bigger-picture stuff to discuss…” 

Cate raised a brow as Jon opened his mouth to pose a question.  “I can’t tell you,” she warned, cutting him off.  “Anyway, we’re going to lunch with some guys from Secret Service, then I brief the Assistant Attorney General for the Criminal Division at three o’clock.”

Jon let out a low whistle.  “Wow.  Running with the Big Dogs today, huh?”

Cate shrugged.  “Yeah, I guess so.  But it’s just part of the job.”  She gave Jon a wry smile.  “Not like you’re gonna be slumming, exactly.”

Jon dropped his foot to the floor and leaned forward, propping his forearms on his knees.  He reached for Cate’s hand, giving her a gentle smile.  “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

Cate’s heart melted at the earnestness in his soft voice.  “I know,” she replied with a little nod, her voice catching a note of huskiness.  “But thank you for saying it.”

Jon looked down at Cate’s fingers resting against his palm.  The diamond on her ring finger sparkled brightly in the artificial overhead light.  “Thanks for coming down with me.  Sorry we haven’t had much time together these past few weeks.”  He sighed guiltily.  “Every day I haven’t had to go to the set I’ve had something else going on.”

“It’s okay, Baby.  We’re both busy, we both have jobs.  That’s life.”  Cate curled her fingers against Jon’s palm in a comforting caress.  “I’m glad it worked out that we could travel together.  I was gonna have to come down to D.C. anyway.”  She smiled gently.  “It’s much nicer to travel with you than by myself.”

“You sure you can’t stay tonight?”  Jon’s voice was softer, almost pleading.

Cate sighed and shook her head.  “I can’t, Jon.  I have to be in Trenton by nine tomorrow morning.”

“So?  Take the early train back in the morning.”  Jon looked up, giving Cate a hopeful half-smile.  “We could go out after the reception, have a late supper, curl up together in one of those big ol’ beds at The Willard Hotel…”

Cate’s smile turned bittersweet.  “Baby, I wish I could, but I just can’t.  I have to get back tonight.  Hell, haven’t even packed for Trenton yet.”  She chortled softly.  “Besides, all I brought was a different blouse and some heels for the reception tonight.  I don’t even have a toothbrush.”

“That’s easy to fix.  I’ll buy you whatever you need.”

“Jon… I can’t.”  Cate repeated her declination gently, but firmly.  “Besides… it’s not like we could have a… romantic… night tonight.”  Her voice dropped to a soft murmur as she shared the regret.  She and Jon had been disappointed but not particularly surprised when her unwelcome monthly visitor arrived three days ago, right on time.

“I know, Baby.”  Jon’s reply was quiet, following Cate’s discretionary tone.  “But we could just talk, and fall asleep together.  Hell, it seems like we don’t even get to do that anymore.  And when’s the last time we got to go out for dinner, just the two of us?  It’s been at least two weeks.”

 “Jon, I know, but there’s just no way.  If I don’t get back tonight I’m gonna be so behind the eight ball for the rest of the week…”  Cate sighed regretfully, but shook her head again.  “Believe me, I would love to stay here with you tonight, but  I just can’t.”

Jon felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in Cate’s resigned reply.  He didn’t want to darken her mood, especially as she headed into an important day.  He squeezed her hand gently, then gave her a little smile.  “Okay.  But remember, our date for next week is unbreakable.  ‘Kay?”

A warm smile curved Cate’s lips at the mention of their long-planned anniversary celebration.  She didn’t know where Jon was going to take her and she didn’t care.  As long as they could be together, alone, for one night to celebrate their lives together, it was fine with her.

“Of course.  I’m taking a half-day, remember?  Just to be sure I don’t get stuck at the office late.”

“And I told the show I’m not available Tuesday or Wednesday, non-negotiable.”  Jon chuckled.  “I didn’t tell them why but I might have hinted something about visiting a big white house…”

Cate giggled softly.  “Hey, I have no problem with implied deception if it means I get you all to myself, all night.”

“That’s a promise, Baby.”

They exchanged an affectionate smile for a moment, until Cate gently tugged her hand from Jon’s.  “Okay, I really do have to go over this briefing again before we hit Union Station.”

“Sheesh, so much for that Hallmark moment.   And you call me a workaholic?”  Jon chided teasingly.

Cate gave Jon a faux-stern look and raised her iPad.  “I’m sure there’s something you can do to get ready for your meeting.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jon chuckled and reached for his briefcase.  “Yes, ma’am, Agent-in-Charge Sullivan.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Jon snickered quietly as he pulled out his file.

A half-hour later the Bongiovis strode quickly through the arrival gate at Washington D.C.’s Union Station.  Though he was not attired in his usual casual garb of jeans and a sweater, Jon kept his eyes shielded by his sunglasses as he moved through the busy hall.  He was well aware that even though he was wearing a dark overcoat, suit and tie like more than half the men on nearby Capitol Hill, he was still easily recognizable. 

Cate automatically fell into her protective posture, remaining a half-step behind Jon and warning off obvious gawkers with laser-like glares.  Though dozens of people stared and pointed camera phones in their direction, Jon and Cate were not delayed in their beeline for the taxi queue at the front of the grand terminal.

They waited only a few minutes for the cab, shivering slightly in the gray, damp February weather.  Once safely inside Cate gave the driver the address.  He was duly unimpressed with both his passenger’s celebrity and with the destination.

Cate slipped her hand into Jon’s as she settled back against the seat while the taxi pulled into the dense morning traffic.   Jon gave her a questioning look. 

“Don’t we need to drop you off first?”

Cate shook her head.  “No, that’s okay.  I have to go to the Inspector General’s office first.  It’s just two blocks, on New York Avenue.  I can walk.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  Jon peered out the window, squinting at the leaden sky.  “Looks like it might snow.”

“Forecast is only for flurries.” Cate’s reply was a little hard-edged, making Jon smile.  His wife hated snow.

“Would be a pity if you got snowed in down here tonight.”

Cate gave Jon a sideways smirk.  “You can keep hoping, Baby.  But I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

Jon chuckled and gave Cate’s hand a squeeze.  They spent the remainder of the short drive in silence, each thinking ahead to the professional duties they were about to commence.

When the cab pulled up to the corner alongside the stark black iron fence, Jon helped Cate out onto the sidewalk before claiming his overnight bag from the trunk.  With a curt “thanks” to the stoic cabbie he paid the fare and a tip, then rolled his bag over to where Cate waited near a small guard shack.  Through the shack’s tinted window the silhouette of a burly security officer was clearly visible.

“You have your I.D. handy?” Cate inquired as she held out Jon’s briefcase to him.

“Got it in my coat pocket.”  Jon smirked as he took his case.  “I have done this before, you know.”

Cate rolled her eyes and giggled softly.  “Oh, yes, I guess you have.  My mistake.”

Jon flashed her a confident grin.  “What’s that they always say in the movies?  ‘I serve at the pleasure of the President’?”

“Something like that.”  Cate’s smile gentled.  “Well, I better get going.  I wanna pick up a tea at Starbuck’s before I head to the office.  I’ll text you later, see how your day’s going.”

Jon nodded, returning her sweet smile.  “I would say ‘good luck’ on your briefing but I know you don’t need it.  You’ll knock it out of the park.”

“Thanks.”  Cate paused for a moment as she let her gaze travel up and down Jon’s dashing form.  She felt a little surge of grateful pride as she realized how handsome her husband looked, dressed up for his meeting.  “Hope your day is good, too.”

Jon nodded and stepped forward.   He reached a gloved hand up to gently grasp Cate’s arm as he dipped his head forward.  He chuckled softly as his warm lips stroked tenderly over hers.  Jon’s blue eyes sparkled as he stepped back and grinned at his wife.  “I’ll tell the Boss you say ‘hi’.”

Cate giggled softly and nodded.  “Okay.  I’ll see you at the hotel later.”  She took a couple steps back.  “Have a nice day at the West Wing, Dear!” she called teasingly as Jon turned toward the iron-fenced sidewalk.  He responded with a nod and a wave, then tugged his bag after him as he headed for the White House.

She watched him until he disappeared inside the Visitor’s Entrance, then turned around.  With a glance skyward and a muttered oath against the promise of snow, Cate hurried toward the coffee shop on the other side of the intersection.

*****

   

“You about ready?”

Cate finished swiping the brush across her lashes and paused.  She answered Jon’s question as she stared wide-eyed at her reflection in the mirror, waiting for the fresh coat of mascara to dry before blinking.

“Almost.  Five minutes.”

Jon appeared in the doorway, both hands at his throat.  His slender fingers moved lithely over the twin lengths of dark silk as he stepped up to the vanity next to his wife.  He smiled at her reflection as he expertly knotted the necktie.

“Your hair looks nice.  I like the big curls.”

“Thanks.”  Cate smiled modestly and re-capped her mascara bottle before dropping it into her cosmetics pouch.  She rummaged through the little bag for her lipstick.  “It’s from being in that bun all day.  It was damp this morning when I put it up.”

“Mmmm… So the Sexy Librarian lets her hair down…. I like.”  Jon grinned as he referenced their morning conversation on the train.

Cate chuckled and leaned again toward the mirror.  Her mouth formed a round “O” as she drew the burgundy tint over her plump lips.  After completing the circle she rubbed her lips together, making a light smack before blotting them on a tissue.

Satisfied with his knot, Jon gave his necktie one final adjustment before flipping down the collar of his light blue dress shirt.  He gave Cate a little sideways smirk.  “Hey, we match.”

“Hmmm?”  Cate dropped her lipstick back into her makeup pouch and pulled the zipper before looking up at the mirror.  She regarded their shared reflection.  “What do you mean?”

“Blue.”  Jon reached out to touch Cate’s satin-covered arm.  She had packed a few of her own items in his suitcase, to wear when she accompanied him to the evening reception.  One was her favorite dressy shirt, the midnight blue satin blouse she had bought in Italy.  

Jon smirked as he remembered the last time she had worn it, at the Christmas Party they had hosted at their Jersey house.  That had certainly been a night to remember.

“Oh.”  Cate gave another throaty chuckle.  “Yeah, I guess so.”

“So now everybody’s gonna be all ‘oh, how CUTE that they matched their outfits!’”  Jon parroted his prediction in a silly falsetto voice before giving Cate a grin.  “We’re not turning into that couple, are we?”

“God, I hope not.”  Cate laughed softly.  “But if you don’t like the matchy-matchy you’re the one who’s gonna have to change.  This is the only thing I brought.”  She leaned to drop her cosmetics back into the larger tote she had hung from the towel bar.

“Nah, I like it.  I love that blouse on you.”  Jon’s smile gentled.  “It makes your eyes look even more beautiful.”

Cate reached into her tote and extracted another small pouch before turning to face her husband.  “You’re being awfully complimentary tonight.  Obviously you had a good day.”  She stepped closer to Jon and reached up to adjust the knot at his throat, giving him a sweet smile.

“Yeah, it was pretty damned good.”  Jon smiled down at his wife.  “But that’s not why I’m complimenting you.  I’m just saying what I see, is all.”

“Well, thank you.  You know how to make a girl feel pretty.”  Cate reached up to place a gentle kiss on Jon’s lips, following the brush with a swipe of her thumb to remove the trace of burgundy stain she left behind.  She turned again to the mirror and pulled the zipper on the small black bag.

Jon rummaged in his shaving kit, extracting a small bottle.  He splashed a little of the cologne on his hands before smoothing his palms against his soft cheeks and down his neck.  He smirked silently as he noticed Cate’s reaction to her favorite scent.

“Okay.  Ready?”

“One more thing.”  Cate’s fingers dipped inside the pouch.  “It’s almost six, so I’ll have to be a little early.” 

Jon’s blue eyes followed the movement of her hands, his expression sobering as he saw her pull out a slim plastic hypodermic syringe and a small glass vial.  He stood silent as Cate laid out the items on a tissue, then unbuttoned and unzipped her pants.  

Her garments readied, Cate slipped the cap off the thin needle and inserted it into the rubber stopper of the little vial.  Her eyes narrowed as she watched the clear liquid fill the syringe to the required mark.

“Little help?”  Her request was quiet as she offered the filled syringe to Jon.

Jon nodded and took the device.  He held it gingerly while Cate’s hands moved to her hips.  She pushed the waist of her trousers downward, catching her panties with the motion.  Baring the fleshy spot on her upper thigh, Cate leaned forward and braced her free hand against the vanity’s edge.

Jon felt a stab of sympathy as he noticed the purplish bruises on Cate’s thigh.  He took a breath and reached for the spot, doing as she had instructed him weeks ago.  Jon gently squeezed her flesh between his forefinger and thumb, raising it into a small swell before with his other hand lowering the syringe.  Cate winced as the needle pierced her skin, but made no sound.

“Sorry,” Jon automatically murmured.  He pressed the plunger, releasing the drug into Cate’s body, then quickly withdrew the needle.  He rubbed his thumb gently over the tiny red spot, hoping to soothe her discomfort.

“S’okay, Baby,” Cate answered softly, watching him in the mirror.  Her heart squeezed as she saw his distress in his tightened jaw.  She stood upright and rearranged her clothing before taking the used syringe from his hand and capping the needle. 

“Thanks.  It’s easier, when you help.”  Cate gave her husband a small smile.  “It’s kinda hard for me to see back there.”

Jon nodded slightly, his expression still serious.  His gaze met hers and he gave her a long, soulful look. 

“Baby, thank you.  For putting yourself through this.”

Cate’s smile gentled, her blue eyes glistening at the emotion in his husky voice.

“You don’t have to thank me.  It’s for us both.  If it’s what I have to do…”  She sighed softly.  “Well, I’ve suffered worse.”

Jon nodded, his own eyes misting with emotion.  They shared another long look before he spoke again.

“We better go.”

“I just need my shoes and my bag.”  Cate quickly gathered the remnants of her hormone treatment back into the little black pouch, then dropped the pouch back into her tote.  After re-fastening her pants she carried the tote out of the bathroom and back into the suite’s elegant bedroom.

Cate dropped the tote on the floor next to Jon’s suitcase, which was propped open on the valet stand.  She stepped over to the small settee, where her dressy black sandals and small satin clutch sat near the end of the cushion.  Jon silently watched her from his post next to the big picture window that framed a view of the regal city's famous pedestrian mall.

She settled onto the small sofa, her gaze automatically going to the window as she slipped the shoes onto her feet.  Cate gazed out at the tableau framed by the suite’s plush drapes; a view of which she never tired. 

It was already dark, a hazy grayness swirling around the warm electric glow from the streetlamps and the neighboring buildings along Pennsylvania Avenue.  Small, shimmering specks flickered in the illumination, light flakes of precipitation that had flurried through the city all day.  Beyond the street the memorials to freedom shone in the dark distance, the Washington Monument jutting into the murky night sky while the other white-marble temples glowed closer to the ground.

It was a sight that reminded her of her duty and of her gratitude to those who shared her profession.   But right now her duty was not just to her country, but to her husband.  For the next few, brief hours she would be at Jon’s side while he mingled with wonks and lawmakers and civil servants to further promote his philanthropic passion.  It was a role she was more than happy to assume.

“Ready,” Cate announced quietly, picking up her purse and standing once her sandals were securely strapped.  She gave Jon a warm smile.  “Let’s go play the D.C.-after-dark-cocktail-party game.”

Jon chuckled at her gently sarcastic tease.  He moved over to her and stopped, his expression mirroring Cate's.  When he spoke, his voice was tinged with melancholy.  “I wish you could stay, Baby.”

Cate sighed softly.  “Me too.  But you know I can’t.  I have a nine-thirty train.”  She reached up to trace a fingertip along the edge of Jon’s suit-jacket lapel.  “Another time.”

“Yeah.”  Jon smiled sadly.  “So after tonight, I won’t see you ‘til Friday, then?”

Cate shook her head, her mahogany waves bouncing slightly with the movement.  “No, probably not.  I’ll be in Trenton.”

“Cate.”  Jon waited until her eyes met his.  “Since we won’t have time for this later…”

His arm circled her waist, pulling her body loosely against his.  His other hand raised to her face, his thumb grazing her jaw as his hand slipped under her hair and to the back of her neck.  Jon leaned in, gently bending Cate backward as his mouth dropped toward hers.  Her sapphire eyes widened at the unexpected movement.

Jon smiled as he felt his wife’s surprise, her hands first clutching at his biceps, then sliding around his torso.  Then she relaxed, holding on to his body with trusting confidence as he dipped her backwards for a long, romantic kiss.

Cate sighed at the familiar and wonderful feel of Jon’s lips covering hers.  His tongue slipped forward to wrap around hers, sensuous and comforting in its slow, firm strokes.  Her entire body warmed as she let him cradle her in his arms, holding her as he cherished her with his lips and his heart and his soul.

Outside the big window the snowflakes swirled on the night winter wind as the sentinels of the city shone through the inky darkness.