Sebastian Stan Short Stories

TJ Hammond [4]

"Old Friends"

Post series end, no spoilers but a little creative license

Requested by Autumn_is_an_Angel

*

Of all the things I hated about working in Washington, White House dinners had never been on the list. Getting dressed up was exciting, and being in the same room as the people who were practically American royalty was incredible. Knowing them was even better, although nerve-wracking. In two years and nearly twenty events, I had been called out by my second mother every single time.

"Wow, he's not even in the room yet, and you look like you need a drink," one of my friends, Melanie, said. I snapped out of my trance, having been staring at the podium, and took the glass of champagne she offered me. I downed it in one drag and traded the empty flute for a full one as a waiter walked past. "So, you needed two drinks. Is he bringing his boyfriend?"

"They broke up," I answered quickly. Too quickly. I mentally face-palmed while Melanie smirked.

"That was faster than usual," she noted. She tried to start a new insult but was stopped when a pair of Secret Service agents entered the room. The partygoers turned their attention to the entourage coming in. I saw Elaine as she entered, surveying her guests will a willing smile on her face.

"Please, don't stop on my account," she urged. The politicians and their assistants laughed as expected. She began to move about the room, and I forced myself to turn away and avoid the rest of the Hammond family's entrance.

"Jesus," Melanie muttered. "And I thought high school crushes were bad."

"I am a grown woman. I work for the Secretary of Defense. I have travelled with combat units in Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan. I've threatened dictators. I do not have a crush on --"

Melanie's eyes widened, and I cut myself off. I squared my shoulders and turned around. To no surprise, there was TJ.

"Who do you not have a crush on?" he asked, grinning at me.

"Jack Daniels," I answered somewhat smoothly. "I am very fond of his work. I'm going to see if he's at the bar actually."

Before I could spin around and start my walk to the bar, TJ had my hand in his, and he was leading me to the bustling dance floor. I barely had time to pass my still full champagne flute to Melanie. TJ made a beeline for the center of the space and was holding my hand and my hip.

"You look very nice," he told me quietly. I glanced down at my dress. I had worn it to three other White House events. It was a dark blue thing with a very simple cut and modest neckline. Tonight, I wore it with a classic strand of pearls.

"Thanks," I replied.

"Although I agree that Jack Daniels was a wonderful man, I have couple questions," TJ said. I began blushing and smiling like crazy. "What does your age, occupation, travel history, and expectant death threats have to do with your appreciation of whiskey?"

"Absolutely nothing, if I'm honest. Granted, I think the champagne is making me honest," I babbled.

"Lightweight," TJ teased. I slapped his arm gently, making him laugh. No one paid us any attention. We danced and chatted and laughed at every White House dinner or political meeting that he happened to attend. Because of my position in the Department of Defense, I was invited to all the big parties, but I never brought a date. TJ was a friend from my childhood and a gentleman most of the time. So, we danced.

"You'll have to excuse me. I didn't spend most of my teens, all of my twenties, and my early thirties building up a tolerance to all manner of addictive substances," I jabbed. He knew I was joking, but he still brought his hand and mine to his heart and winced dramatically.