Chapter Text
The campaign trail was brutal, that was something you had come to find out the hard way. You didn't wanna sound ungrateful, of course you jumped at the opportunity to be a part of the Vice President's team in her campaign for President. As a poli-sci major with a degree still warm from the presses, you never expected for your career to start out so big. But you had heard talk of a desire to bring aboard young minds to the team, and you quickly threw your hat in the ring. It helped that you had spent your summers interning for the Mayor, and by the time you'd reached your senior year you were spending half of your time in the Governors office. But still, you never thought it could get so big so fast.
A strenuous first week of rallies had just come to an end, and with everyone else on the team already headed to the airport to catch their flights back home to their respective states for the weekend, you were left alone with Kamala. Just you, her, and the secret service.
"Y/N," She broke you out of your thoughts that you had been lost in for who knows how long. For how many people were on the team, and how new you were, you were slightly surprised she remembered your name. "Flight back to D.C is a little long. What do you say we get something to eat before we go on our way?" She asked.
You quirked an eyebrow up in confusion, "I would love to, Vice President, but I have a flight to catch in an hour." You informed her, genuinely disappointed in having to turn down her offer. But hey, there would be more flights, right?
She laughed, and no matter how many times you'd heard it, it always made you want to laugh, too. So you did, maybe a little awkwardly, because you kind of didn't understand the joke.
"Honey, we're both going back to D.C. You're riding with me." She said, as if it was as obvious as the sky being blue.
But still, you stumbled over your words, "Oh, I didn't know that— that was the plan. Are you sure you don't mind? I bet you need some peace and quiet after all of this." You chuckled lightly.
She scoffed.
"You don't want to ride with me, huh?" She joked, but you being you, rushed to defend your wording, and her being her, stepped in quickly to put your mind at ease. "Hey, I'm kidding. Of course I don't mind. Besides, I love new faces and would like for us to get to know each other a little better. So, food? What do you like?"
In an attempt not to take her offer in a way that was unintended, you bit your bottom lip in an effort to suppress the blush that crept up your neck.
"Anything, really. Show me something new?" You offered.
That must have been an answer she liked, because she waved you along to walk with her towards a black Escalade.
Talk about places you never expected to be. But here you were, sat in the far corner of a mom and pop barbecue restaurant in downtown Atlanta, with Kamala Harris. The restaurant was left empty, the two of you the only patrons in the building, with her guards stationed at every entry. It felt, intimate, almost. But of course it did, because who did you know that had ever experienced privacy to such a high degree before? That must have been why. It definitely was.
"I'm thoroughly impressed by your track record, Y/L/N. For someone so young to be as devoted to public service as you are is an incredible feat." She praised you.
It was surreal. Completely, to have the Vice President praising your accomplishments while she licks the remnants of barbecue sauce off of her index finger and thumb. Your mind felt fuzzy from the image, and you knew you had to stop thinking of her that way. She was the next President of the United States, and if you had any hope of being appointed any sort of position on her administration, or even getting a letter of recommendation, you had to stop being weird.
"That certainly means the world coming from you, Vice President. It's something I've always felt deeply passionate about, and my mother always told me if I cared about something that much, I would never have to worry much about success."
Her eyes rolled slightly at that, and you were confused about what you said that could have illicited that reaction.
"I'm sorry, I love what you said about your mother. But please, no more titles. Just call me Kamala." She asked.
It felt weird, and guess what? Even more intimate. But you stopped your mind from wandering. It's not like that.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I guess that is kind of weird. Kamala." You said her name softly, as an attempt to show her that yeah, you think she's just a regular person. It didn't feel right, but you assumed that your mind would get over that, too.
"See, I like the way my name rolls off your tongue." She stopped, understanding how that sounded immediately. "Damnit, you're acting all weird and now I'm acting weird. Don't look at me like that!" She laughed loudly at the expression on your face, and you laughed just as loudly with her.
"Yeah," You agreed, catching your breath. "We've gotta work on that."
Kamala was right, the flight back to D.C was long. The fact that you both had maybe one or two more beers than you planned to (to be clear, you didn't plan on drinking with the Vice President at all), and with the stress of the previous week now finally setting in, it somehow felt even longer. And you still wouldn't make it in until well past 1am.
"I've enjoyed our time together today, Y/N." Kamala spoke suddenly, and you jumped at the sound.
A deep blush spread across your nose and cheeks. So yeah, in hindsight it probably wasn't a good idea to have any alcohol when you were left alone with your boss, who you may or may not be attracted to.
"Me too, Vice President— Sorry, Kamala."
She giggled, not that big, infectious laugh. A tipsy, sleep deprived giggle that left you giggling right along-side her. "You just like calling me Vice President don't you? You must have a thing for titles."
You accepted now that your face would be red for the rest of the night, and possibly even into tomorrow. You were just grateful that it was dark in the cabin.
"No— No things. Not me." You stuttered, predictably unconvincingly, by the way. "Maybe I just respect your title."
Kamala smiled softly over at you, cocking her head slightly as she studied you for a moment. A moment so quick you had almost missed it. So quick she barely caught herself in time to blink away.
"You won't mind if I sleep until we get back, would you?" She changed the subject, and you went with it graciously.
"Of course not, get some rest." You answered.
She nodded sleepily, leaning her head back into her seat and closed her eyes.
And if you thought you were going to get off that easily, you weren't ready to wake up to the Vice President sleeping peacefully on your shoulder.
"Vice President, we are now flying over Virginia. Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing." You heard from the speaker above your seat.
You opened your eyes, and as you lifted your head you felt hair begin to tickle your nose. You froze, feeling Kamala begin to wake up from the announcement.
Her head lifted slowly from your shoulder, and you were sure the memory of the Vice President crinkling her eyebrows and blinking her eyes in a half-asleep state of confusion would be etched into your mind forever. If you thought you knew what butterflies felt like, a herd of buffalo must be making their way through your stomach right now. That was really the only way you could describe it.
Her gaze caught yours eventually, and she suddenly seemed to realize what had all lead up to this.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm such a heavy sleeper, it was completely inappropriate of me to do that." She apologized immediately.
You shook your head, probably too quickly, too desperately.
"No need to apologize, Kamala. You can use me however you want to." You rambled.
God Damnit.
That crimson blush made appearance back to your cheeks as soon as the sound waves made their way from your mouth to your ears. Why the fuck would I say that?
But Kamala grinned, almost smirked, maybe? An expression you hadn't seen on her before, and she chuckled.
"I'm gonna have to pull my mind out of the gutter for that, but thank you, darling. I'll store that offer away for future use." Her tone was now less professional, and you didn't know if it was the sleep deprivation or the remnant buzz of alcohol in your systems, but you noticed it.
You blinked slowly at her, feeling a bit dizzy from the way that turned. Your lips pressed together in an attempt to stop the fumbling mess that was bound to come out of your mouth next, and nodded once at her.
Luckily, she didn't poke fun at the issue any further. But as the plane prepared for landing, you braced for the impact. Absentmindedly, through your anxiety, you reached for Kamala's wrist, holding onto it firmly. But she didn't say a word, she just crossed her arm over to yours and rubbed a thumb over your knuckles until the plane doors opened.
Kamala had just finished her rally in Atlanta, and the energy was buzzing throughout the entire team.
Being one of the only interns located in D.C, you had become the closest to her. You had come to realize your proximity to her left you on-call throughout the weekends you both spent home. But you didn't mind, in fact you often stayed up just a little later than your tired eyes could handle at night just in case she had questions about voter stats, or new trends, or even just a pair of fresh ears on what her and her speech writer were coming up with. She seemed to take a liking to you, and that feeling was something you weren't able to easily describe.
The ride back to the tarmac tonight was quiet, and you'd found that you could sit comfortably in silence with her now. You didn't feel like you always had to say something smart to prove yourself anymore, not like you had with the previous politicians you had worked for. She made it a point to make you feel like you were exactly where you needed to be.
"So, Y/N. What do you think of Walz for my VP pick?" She dropped the question on you like a ton of bricks. You hadn't expected her to entrust information of this caliber with you yet, and you couldn't hold back the smile that spread softly onto your face.
"Wow," You stopped, not knowing exactly how to answer that without being overly enthused. "You really want to know my opinion on that, or have you already made up your mind?" You asked, knowing enough about her by now to know she wasn't one to be indecisive.
She smiled back at you, cocking her head to the side in thought. "You know, I've been in this game for a while now. I've seen a lot of interns come and go, some that I wish had stayed and some that I was ready to see out. But there's something about you, I don't know what it is." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and you saw her mind shake a thought away like an etch-a-sketch. "Which is all to say I value your opinion deeply. And anyone who's been around me within the last week is not unfamiliar with your name. So, to answer your question, the answer is both. I've made up my mind, but I'm convinced all you would have to do is tell me no and that decision would go away very quickly."
You sat in silence for a moment, taking in all of the implications that hid in her words. Debunking all of the interpretations you'd come up with in your mind, but Kamala was incredibly patient, she let your mind wander far enough to find your own words.
"I think Walz is an extremely wise choice, Kamala. And before you say it, I'm not only telling you what I think you want to hear. I think the voters will love him." You spoke truthfully. "Tell me what's making you nervous."
She liked your answer, you could see it on her face. But she seemed hesitant to tell you what was bothering her.
"It's not a big deal, really. It's silly and self-conscious of me to even be thinking about." She brushed it off, looking out the window at the passing scenery.
"Kam," You called softly, your fingers reaching out to her, but you stopped yourself. Holding her hand would be incredibly inappropriate, even if it was just in comfort. But you had never used that nickname for her before and the melodic way that it played through your lips caught her attention quickly, and in her movement your fingertips brushed together. Neither of you made a move to disconnect the contact. "If it's bothering you, it isn't silly. To me it's a big deal."
She took a breath, her mouth open and closing a few times before she finally spoke. "This whole... Childless woman thing. It's getting to me a little bit, I think." She admitted. "That I can't hold down a man because I've slept my way to the top. All of this misogynistic, made up bullshit. I knew Presidential races have proven to be unforgiving to women, I should have known better. They were always going to form their attack around me not being validated by marriage."
You nodded, having seen all of these things on social media and conservative news networks. But to you, Kamala always seemed so head-strong, so fiercely confident in herself, that you never considered it may be getting to her at all.
"You're brilliant, Kamala. You're kind, courageous, strong-willed. Being linked to a man would not make them like you more, and it would not give you the upper hand. They'd just find a different path of attack. I know you know that." You spoke sternly.
She nodded once, "Of course I do. I just think it would be easier, I suppose. The narrative they've created is asinine, that a woman is worth more when she's chosen." She explained.
You understood this was only a moment of vulnerability, and she didn't need you to tell her the narrative was wrong. But for some reason, you couldn't end this conversation so simply.
"Kamala," You finally reached out to grab her hand completely, and her fingers didn't tremor in wrapping around your palm. "I can't speak for everyone, but I can tell you there are people who would beat down doors for a chance to even be perceived by you."
She knew that, of course she did. She was not only a beautiful, but an accomplished woman, she was sure to have known that. After all, you weren't the first person to find that to know her was to love her.
"Sounds like you have something you want to tell me, honey." She spoke softly, that familiar look of concentration on her face. A particular look of concentration that she seemed to have reserved for you.
You opened your mouth to speak, and it was sure to have been a moment where you floundered and tripped over your words. No way were you going to be able to string together a sentence that was the least bit coherent with her eyes on you like that.
Then, the car came to a stop, and the partition between the two of you and the driver rolled down. You held each others gaze for a moment longer before reaching back into your surroundings.
"It was a pleasure driving you, Vice President. Have a safe flight, and say hello to the President for me, will you?" The driver asked.
Kamala slipped back into politician mode, smiling brightly at the man and promising that she would do what was asked. You both wished him a safe drive before you climbed out, and it wasn't something you had done before, but you held your hand out to guide Kamala from the car behind you.
She smiled, almost knowingly, at you as she accepted your offer.
Today, you were in Philly. Kamala had just announced her running mate, and the crowds were feeling the excitement.
You sat in a conference room with Kamala before she went on stage, the TV in the middle of the room playing the voices of previous speakers lowly in the background.
"Let's go over that part again," Kamala spoke, mostly to you, but also to herself. "It felt a little weak, didn't it?" She asked.
You smiled softly at her, shaking your head.
"Weak is not the word that I would use for you, ever. But if you're asking me for notes, I think you could rephrase the part about reproductive rights a little. It's great, but I think we can get a little more of a reaction out of that statement." You offered.
She nodded once, "You're right."
You watched as she paced around the room, trying different variations of the segment aloud. Her hand raked through her hair in concentration, and you were well aware that you were staring at this point, but you couldn't look away. Her navy blue blazer that hung across the back of a folding chair in the corner of the room left her fitted tan button up to stand alone, contrasting beautifully against her skin, the top two buttons undone and the fabric tucked neatly into her slacks. Your eyes travelled further to her legs, long and toned all the way to the nude heels on her feet.
You hadn't realized through your admiration that her voice had faded out abruptly.
"You're staring, honey." She spoke.
You caught her eyes quickly, being pulled out of a hypnotized state.
"I— I'm sorry, I was lost in thought." You explained lamely.
But the smirk that played on her lips let you know she wasn't so easily fooled. "I have a feeling I know what those thoughts were. Care to share?" She asked.
The door to the room opened, and her campaign manager poked her head inside. "Vice President, you're on next." She informed her.
Kamala nodded once, grabbing her blazer from the chair she had rested it on, grazing her hand over your shoulder as she walked past you.
"Come on, Y/N. I know you want to watch."
You tripped over your feet to catch up with her.
You were sitting in Kamala's office the following Monday, wringing your fingers in wait as you sat in the exquisitely kept and uncomfortably silent space. Her secretary had let you in, informing you the Vice President's 10 o clock meeting was running a little later than expected. So here you were, called in to your bosses office, with no indication of why you were here.
Suddenly, the door beside you clicked open, and your head snapped in the direction of the noise. Kamala stepped into the room, flipping through a file packed full of papers. She didn't seem to immediately notice your presence, lost in her own thoughts as she kicked the door closed behind her with the heel of her converse.
"Good morning, Kamala." You greeted.
She jumped slightly, smiling ever so softly when she saw you. "Y/N, I didn't know you'd be here so soon."
"Of course, I came right when you called. Is everything okay?" You asked.
"Everything's fine, honey. I should have provided a little more context, I didn't mean to worry you." She squeezed your shoulder as she walked by, taking a seat beside you. "My meeting went a little late, I hate to keep you waiting." She sighed, and you could tell that even by noon, she had a long day.
"Don't apologize, please. I don't mind waiting for you." You said, not understanding now how true that really was. How you'd wait for her at every door, just for a chance to hold it open for her, wait for her to step out of every car, wait for her to fall asleep first so you knew for sure her dreams were treating her well. You came back from your thoughts slowly, "Was there something specific you needed?" You asked.
She cocked her head to the side, studying you in a way that made you shift in your seat. "You always have so much going on in that mind. I'm often kept up at night wondering what those thoughts may be." She spoke softly, crossing one of her legs over the other. "Last night was one of those nights, and my thoughts lead me to a conclusion that I'd rather not tread down without complete certainty. I think I'm right, but I want to hear you say it."
You chuckled nervously, looking down from her gaze.
"Say what?" You asked. Your stomach twisted in a giant, tangled knot, a sense of dread settling into it knowing you've been caught.
"Don't play stupid. You're a remarkably smart girl." She said lowly, her wet tongue darting out to swipe over her lips.
Your mouth hung open for a moment, knowing there was no backpedaling out of this now. It's now or never. "Well, to be completely honest, more often than not I'm thinking of you. Whether you're right in front of me or a hundred miles away." The strength and calmness in your own voice shocked you. How easily the words came flowing out once you let them.
Kamala looked relieved almost, and you were confused, you were sure you were going to lose your job. You were sure she wasn't going to act like you hadn't just declared your feelings for her and go about business as usual.
"Wow," She breathed. "How am I always right?" She asked rhetorically.
She stopped your nervous hands with long, nimble fingers filling the gaps between your own.
"Relax, honey." She instructed, and for some reason your body did exactly as she said, though your heartbeat kept to its steady incline.
"Is that why you asked me here?" You questioned, eyes still focused in on your interlocked hands. "Why did you want to know?"
She took another breath, this one slower; a woman who was usually a firecracker, who always knew exactly what to say next, but in this moment she paid extra close attention to her wording to make sure she left nothing up to interpretation.
"I wanted to make sure I wasn't making this all up. That the way you were looking at me every time I caught your eye during one of my speeches wasn't something I was misguided in finding comfort in. I needed to know you felt the same way." She admitted softly.
You thought you must be dreaming, your phone was going to ring any moment and you'd be awoken to a world in which the only thing you and Kamala shared was a sort of camaraderie, nothing more. But that moment never came.
You smiled, finally letting yourself be swept away by her. Weeks that felt like months of waiting for this moment with her were all worth it, and you knew if she asked you, you'd do it all again for her in a second.
"Well, Vice President," You paused, pulling your joined hands closer to you. "What are you going to do about it?"
She smiled back, a carefree giggle slipping out as she rose to her knees on the tan leather couch and grabbed your cheeks gently. You braced for impact, reminding yourself to let this next moment be etched into the alleys of your brain to keep with you forever. You knew this was the last day you'd ever go without belonging to Kamala Harris.
Her lips met yours quickly after, your hands immediately steadying her against you through the small of her back. A squeaky moan fell from the base of her throat at the sensation of you fisting the back of her blazer, pulling her in close enough to feel her heart beating like a drum from her chest. Her hands raked into your hair, and with just one swipe of her tongue into your mouth, you were done for. Through the haze that buzzed through your mind, you fought to keep up.
She pulled back eventually, her forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.
"Does this make me the first lady?" You asked.
She cackled, her chest rattling against yours as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You dissolved beneath her touch, a fond feeling resting in your stomach at the sensation of her nails scratching a soothing pattern at the base of your neck.
"Slow down there, we haven't won yet, baby."