#house of cards fic

Warnings: Language?
A/n: It’s short, it leaves things up to your imagination as to what happens after. Choose your ending if you will. I won’t be doing anymore. Lol.
Taglist:@charabs​@emilyprentisswife​@natasha-danvers​@stardust-fray​@ineedafinghug​@veteranwerewolf95​@billiedeannovak​@vivis-ghost-wife​@imlike-so-gaydude​@wannabe-fic-reader​@sarcasticmami​@infiniteoddball​@delphineecormierr​

Nearly a year after the election and things were finally starting to settle in the White House, and you were finallyfinding the time to clean out your old office. Since you had still been moving back and fourth a little bit your firm had been fine with you keeping it until you’d moved fully into the office the White House had provided for you. You were more than happy to leave a handful of the law books behind for whoever was taking the office, but you wanted to make sure everything personal or related to a case was properly destroyed or taken with you. Especially anything related to the election, you had copies of literally everything from Heather’s campaign and you definitely didn’t want those going into the wrong hands.

That was when you found it.

*

“Ms Vanderbilt, it’s lovely to see you again.” Claire greeted you with a firm but friendly handshake as you stepped into the Oval Office.

“Madam President.” You smiled.

Yes.

Things had truly hit the fan and exploded after the election, it didn’t take Frank Underwood long after announcing that his wife was going to be his VP to start turning on people and leaving knives in their backs. You were just happy it wasn’t you this time.

“What can I do for you?” She smoothed her skirt as she took a seat on the couch across from you.

“I uh- just came to return this to its rightful owner.” Your hand delved into your purse, revealing the journal, sliding it across the small table between you. Claire’s brow furrowed slightly as she picked it up, delicately opening it to the marked page before her eyes moved back up to you.

“You had it?”

“To be honest, I completely forgot I did. No one knew I had it either, and you don’t have to worry about copies, there aren’t any.”

“Doug thought he had it.”

“That’s the problem with alcoholics…they tend to not remember things from when they were blacked out.”

“Thank you for returning it.”

“I will admit that I let curiousity get the best of me today, I did read it. If I had known what was in it I never would have let Heather use even the idea of it as blackmail. It wouldn’t be fair to drag you into the middle of a feud between her and the President.”

“Well it wasn’t exactly fair to drag you into the middle of things either.” You laughed lightly,

“I believe I got myself into the entire mess, but thank you.”

“It may be too bold for me to say, but the two of you truly cared for each other.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “it was an affair that stayed in the bedroom. We’ve just known each other for a long time.”

“When Francis threatened you with that tape, both of you came to him separately, ready and willing to fall on your own sword in order to save the other’s career and image. You gave no concern what the damage was as long as the other person was untouched. I don’t believe that’s just old friends.” Your brow scrunched, you didn’t know Heather had gone to Underwood aside from the initial threat of the journal.

“I..didn’t realize.”

“I only hope that you’ll eventually come around and realize what truly makes you happy.” Claire gave you a soft smile as she rose from the couch. You took that as your cue, following her lead.

“Thank you M’am.”

“Thank you.” She gestured with the journal, nodding in dismissal and you left the office.

You had to admit, while the entire Underwood party wasn’t your pick, they were simply the lesser of two evils, you trusted Claire a world more than you’d trusted her husband. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to watch a third presidency uproot itself in under four years.

Happily entering an empty elevator you leant back against the wall, pondering over Claire’s words, only pulled out of your trance when the elevator pinged, opening on the next floor. A small smile broke out on your face, and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t jump a little bit.

“Justice Dunbar.” You nodded in a greeting. She chuckled softly, waiting until the doors slid shut before she spoke.

“You know, considering the places that mouth has been I think you get the privilege of calling me Heather.” You barked out a laugh,

“You just never stop, do you?”

“What’re you doing on this side of the White House?”

“Meeting with Ms Underwood.”

“Ah.” A somewhat awkward, yet somehow comfortable silence fell over the elevator as it whirred down the next couple of floors. Heather let out a quiet sigh, her voice barely louder than the noise of the elevator itself, “I filed for divorce…”

“What?” Your head shot up to glance over at her. She simply shrugged.

“The kids are both off at college, it was time. After losing the nomination I realized how much my potential career was what was keeping me happy.” The elevator hit the ground floor, dinging as the doors slid open and she turned back to you, a soft smile on her cheeks, “I have a reservation at 7 at Plume, perhaps you’ll join me?”