"Well that's it."

Amelia leaned back in her chair and grinned at me - that familiar grin which didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Your last State of the Union address is ready to go. You excited?" She asked, picking at some invisible fuzz on her blouse.

I glanced around at the Oval - a room I'd avoided as much as possible since being drawn to serve and shrugged.

"Excited isn't the word I'd use."

"You going to hide under the desk again?" Amelia winked at me, her tone not matching her lighthearted expression.

"That was one time." I said, frowning at the memory as Amelia continued to smile. "In my defense, the Vice President looks terrifying in most lighting."

"That's very true," she said flatly, "it's been a problem."

"That's been a problem??" I snorted. "Holy hell, do you not remember my first press conference?"

"It was only a little bit of vomit."

"It was enough."

"In all honesty Miss President, you've done a very mediocre job, but... much better than the last guy."

I glanced automatically at the stain on the ceiling.

"I can't believe people used to fight over this job." I rubbed my temples rhythmically, trying to forget where I was sitting. "I swear to god I look like a sixty year old hooker these days."

I grabbed the binder containing my speech and walked with Amelia back to the residence. "Shit, I feel like one too."

Amelia slapped me on the back a little too hard for it to be friendly.

"You can do whatever you want after the next drawing. Until then?"

She smiled her lifeless smile and patted the gun on her hip.

"Yeah. Do my duty." I muttered. "I know how this works."

Amelia stopped outside the door to my room and swiped her hand across the scanner. As I stepped inside she cleared her throat and I looked back at her.

"I'll come get you when we're ready to leave." She hesitated, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Amelia?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, suddenly herself again. "I'll see you in a few hours."

The door locked with a familiar *thunk-thunk" and I was left alone to wait.