Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It used to be that she could walk into any room, with the exception of the President’s Oval Office, and make it her own.

Now there was no exception.

She knew power, and she knew how to grasp onto it and never let it go. Clinging to power was like scaling the towers of fairytales, except they were coated with thorny brambles that one would be forced to grasp with their naked palm. It was like climbing and continuing on even when their hands broke and bled. Yes, the route to power was bloodstained - at least, hers was.

It was a struggle that those like her predecessor would never comprehend.

He was born into a wealthy political dynasty, which was essentially equivalent to being born inside the tower and being given a set of gilded stairs that one could make a leisurely climb up. Him and his ludicrous brother. And they, especially the brother, had had the gall to treat her as if she was an ignorant lout. She knew she wasn’t wrong. She’d seen the way they would speak slower if it was to her, adopt the vocabulary of a highschooler and avoid anything technical altogether.

God’s sake, she wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t! She’d studied every book she could get her hands on inside out just so she could compete with those Ivy League scholars. She’d studied debate techniques, public speaking, everything! Factoids and statistics and anecdotes and fancy words - all crammed into her head all because she simply had to outsmart whoever she was talking to, and especially…him.

What was her sin? Was it that she had been born in the Hill Country instead of a glamorous Massachusetts home? Or was it that she had been born a woman instead of a man?

It didn’t matter now. The people who said that a girl trying to play politics would never amount to anything weren’t here. The people who said that a female senator was only good for looking pretty while voting weren’t here. The people who said that her appointment as Vice President was nothing more than John Kennedy’s cruel joke that could have cost him the election weren’t here. But she was.

She had to address the Senate tomorrow.

John Kennedy was dead. God, he was dead.

She was here because a man had been murdered. She didn’t know power at all. Her power was an accident. What was she doing here?

Self doubt was a feminine weakness. So was crying. Cry, and the papers would call you an emotional wreck of a woman who shouldn’t even be near Washington. Doubt yourself, and your foes would rejoice, because you had proved them right all along. Indecision was a feminine vice, but what else was she to do?

Grace was a feminine virtue. Like Jackie. She was the epitome of grace. If only more men were like her.

She wasn’t graceful. She had long since known and accepted that. Could you whip votes by speaking softly and kindly to men who thought that being soft and kind were more feminine weaknesses? You had to plead with them, threaten them, charm them, grab them by the lapels and intimidate them, stare deep into their eyes and wheedle their secrets out of them. The papers never forgave her for daring to do the same things as a man.

And if she wasn't careful, everything would come crashing down on her.

Chapter Text

The President sat alone in the Oval Office, waiting for the two challengers to arrive.

Hubert would probably arrive early. He was so desperate and eager to please her. It was incredibly sweet and endearing. Of course, it was natural given everything that she had done for him: it was her who had taken him in when he had been ostracised in the Senate and had given him the tools he needed to survive the cutthroat world of Washington politics. He’d called her a ‘lady who makes a gentleman like what he’s being taught’, and his flattery wasn’t of a superficial kind either: she could tell that her most diligent student was nothing if not devoted to her. That was the kind of loyalty she needed and deserved in a Vice President.

The younger Kennedy brother (she wouldn’t be caught dead calling him ‘Bobby’) had made it clear that he loathed her, but she knew that that scheming opportunistic brat wouldn’t dare be late to any meeting that could further his political career. God, she hated that man. He served as a constant reminder to her that she would never truly be accepted by the establishment that hated her for being a woman born into a backwards, barren land without electricity instead of a man from America’s greatest dynasties. Even if the Kennedys pretended to smile politely at her, she knew how they’d picked apart and mocked everything about her behind her back. At least she scorned people to their faces.

In the end, both had arrived together (early), knocking on the door in what was not quite synchronisation.

“Come in.”

She barely looked up as the door opened and Robert Kennedy and Hubert Humphrey walked in. Hubert had a tentative gait: he was a man who knew his place, after all. Robert and his stupid little self-assured steps could learn from him.

“Sit down.” she gestured towards the couch opposite her. They both did so.

“Thank you, Madam President.” murmured Hubert. Robert copied him.

“One of you” - she fixed her eyes straight onto the pair - “will run with me on the Democratic ticket of 1964. I want the pair of you to have a debate in front of me. I will serve as moderator.”

She didn’t want a Kennedy as her running mate, especially not that one. If she did, it would just prove to the world that she couldn’t be elected herself, and that she would always be shackled to that family’s legacy.

But she knew that Hubert had prepared for this. He was going to wipe the floor with the Attorney General. Technically, it could be considered ‘unfair’ or ‘sabotage’ for her to have given Humphrey advance notice of the fact that her selection of a Vice Presidential candidate would be through a debate - but Robert Kennedy had been born with unfair advantages. She was merely levelling the playing field.

The two potential candidates both stood next to imaginary podiums in preparation for their duel of words. The opening statements were given, and the pair began to debate.

Hubert started off strong, but his performance was growing weaker and weaker. As time passed, his arguments faltered. Every opportunity to attack Robert that arose was barely grasped onto, or missed outright. Why was he going easy on him? Was he ill? No, that couldn’t be it. She could tell when a man was sick.

And as Robert flourished and while his opponent stumbled, a thought crossed her mind that made her stomach lurch.

Did Hubert want to lose?

She raised her hand. “Enough.”

Humphrey’s long-winded speech that had a shockingly low amount of substance to it trailed off. “Madam President?”

“I’ve seen enough. You may leave.”

—

That night, she called Hubert to her room.

“Oh, Senator. Do you know how disappointed in you I am?” she drawled. Internally, she was fighting the urge to scream and rage and maybe even grab him by his thinning hair and slam him against the wall and…

“Madam President…you don’t understand. I…”

Hubert’s eyes were fixed onto her shoes instead of her face. Was he too cowardly to face the fact that he had just stabbed her in the back for the sake of some privileged Kennedy boy who had never known hardship?

The silence between them was as thick as fog, and the longer it went on, the more the distance between the pair grew.

Hubert was the first to bridge the gap.

“I can’t be your running mate. I won’t be able to win. I…” and then he started sobbing.

‘How dare he?’ she thought as he dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands and cried into them.

How dare he play the part of a victim when it was HER who had been betrayed by a man she thought she had the undying loyalty of? It was HER who was once again going to be undermined and mocked by the Kennedy family for years to come. Because of Humphrey, it was HER who would have to be fated to become nothing but a stopgap for the dynasty of her most loathed enemy.

She stepped towards him and lifted his head up with one hand so that it was tilted upwards, facing her.

“Stop crying. Look at me.”

There was no warmth in her voice. He obeyed, finally fixing his twinkly blue eyes on her. Almost inadvertently, she allowed herself to smile.

“It suits you better when you listen to what I say. Why did you sabotage yourself…and me?”

“I just told you! It has to be him. You can’t-”

Her grip on his head tightened so that her nails were digging into his flesh.

“I can’t? You think I can’t do anything without the help of those people? You think that I’m some incompetent, illiterate idiot who can’t campaign without a Kennedy by my side? You don’t care that they’re going to sabotage everything I want to achieve as President and pretend that it was their own? DO YOU???”

She pushed him away from her, the force almost toppling him off his knees.

“No, listen to me!” he pleaded. “I’m not a good candidate. Bobby is more popular than me, you know that. You don’t have to like it, but it’s true. And I don’t…I don’t want to be Vice President.”

“So you’d rather have my Vice President be someone who tried to screw up my nomination?”

“If you don’t swallow your pride, there’ll be no Democratic Vice President! It’ll be Republicans in the White House!”

“Do you think that little of me?” she whispered, trying to mask the raw hurt in her voice. But Hubert, that damn traitor, saw it. He was always a perceptive one.

“I think the world of you.”

And she knew it too. She could see the devotion in his eyes when he looked up at her, even now when she had so ruthlessly chastised and tormented him. This was the face of a man who would follow her to the ends of the Earth - a man who would endure any abuse she put him through and thank her for it.

He was so desperate and eager to please her.

But even he thought Robert Kennedy had to be Vice President.

“I suppose you’re right.”

It hurt her so badly to concede. It hurt even worse to know that that brat would be her Vice President.

But she knew that the greatest pain of all would be for her to lose the election and be rejected by the world.

“Madam President…thank you.”

“Thank you, Hubert. You’ve shown me how to win. And I suppose your goodness deserves a reward. Keep kneeling before me, would you?” she crooned.

His eyes sparkled even more now. She could tell he’d wanted the control she could give him all this time. When they were both senators, she’d grab him by the lapels, holding him close so that he could stare into those deep brown eyes of hers and give him a kick right in his shins.

“Well? Get going!” she’d say.

She’d seen how he’d reacted then. The poor thing got all blush-y and was so giddy he could barely stand straight (or maybe his legs were weak from the kicking…).

She ran her fingers through his hair. It was soft like him and his hopes and dreams. He let out a soft mewl. He was so needy. Softly, she spoke:

“I’ll give you the opportunity to worship me.”

That night, Hubert proved to be a most ardent devotee.

Chapter Text

“That absolute brat! Why can’t he just be like Jackie? A lovely, graceful woman she is. That BRAT could learn from her.”

The President was heard to grumble these words just before she went to bed.

She had a most curious dream that night.

—

The moonlight poured over the Vice Presidential desk as she absorbed herself in work. She looked like a serene goddess of the night, but her soft smile and droopy eyes hid a vicious streak.

The door knocked.

“Come in.”

A frazzled-looking Senator with short auburn hair that was parted at the side tentatively stepped in.

“Vice President.” she bowed her head with deference.

The VP in question could barely hide her disgust at the display of submission.

“Now now, Senator Humphrey.” She put her papers aside. “I told you that you can call me by my name!”

The Senator blushed at the reprimand. “You’re right, Madam K-“

“And none of this ‘Madam’ nonsense!” She slammed her fist down. Humphrey didn’t flinch.

“Goodness! I could say anything to you and you wouldn’t fight back. Why are you such a doormat? Did that person do away with your principles and your dignity?”

Humphrey inadvertently nodded.

“Well,” she got up from her seat. “let’s see if we can spite her.”

She grinned, exposing teeth that were sometimes sharp and sometimes stuck out, like a mix between a bunny and something that was far more dangerous.

Humphrey bit her lip so fast that it drew blood. She was never one to repress her emotions, and Kennedy could see how she grew red and flustered.

Finally, the Senator asked if she should lock the door. Kennedy nodded, and then approached Humphrey. It was then that she noticed her full face of makeup.

“Wow…your lips are so…red. Like…Republicans.” the words stumbled out of Humphrey’s mouth.

“I did my makeup especially for you.” Kennedy whispered.

“I know you’re using me to get back at -”

“I am.” she admitted slowly. “But you don’t mind that, do you? Besides, I really did do my makeup for you. I think you’d look lovely covered in red kisses.”

“No. I don’t mind.” A flame of courage was blossoming in Humphrey’s heart - a fearlessness that she hadn’t known since she stepped into the bright sunshine so many years ago. And even though it was the moonlight that bathed the room they were in, she knew that it was all just a reflection of that very sun.

“Take off your suit jacket and your shirt.”

Humphrey obeyed, tossing the articles of clothing onto the floor so that she was only wearing her trousers and vest. Tentatively, she stuck her hand out.

Starting from Humphrey’s little finger, Kennedy traced out a trail of tender kisses up her arm, leaving it covered in red lipstick marks. Once she had made her way up, she dipped her head onto Humphrey’s shoulder and sucked gently on the tender flesh of her neck.

“Harder.” Kennedy could barely hear her.

“What?”

“I said…harder. I want you to leave a mark. Maybe even bite - ah…”

Humphrey sighed in pleasure as Kennedy sucked in between kisses, leaving red stains clustered amongst a purplish mark that was starting to form. Her sharp teeth slowly sunk into Humphrey’s flesh, eliciting a soft whine from the Senator.

“That’s going to leave a mark…all the others will notice if you’re not careful.”

“It’s fine.” Humphrey responded breathlessly. “Let them see - ah…”

“Oh, Senator. I’m going to show you how it feels to be loved tonight. I -“

Before she could finish, Humphrey kissed her on the lips. It was a small peck, testing the waters to see how far she could go. Kennedy responded by running a hand through Humphrey’s little bob and going all the way. The pair exchanged deep kisses for a good minute - Humphrey was much better at it than Kennedy had anticipated her to be.

“Goodness! You do have quite a vicious streak!” Humphrey laughed while catching her breath. Her face was red, both from Kennedy’s lipstick and from her own blushing.

“I want you to take the reins now, Senator.” Kennedy smiled. She lay down and motioned for Humphrey to join her.

“Do you mean…“ Humphrey mimed an action.

“I do.”

And so, fingers stumbling along the way, Humphrey began to hastily unbutton-

—

The President awoke in a cold sweat.

What a curious dream.