When The Devil Makes A Deal
Title: When The Devil Makes A Deal
Pairing: Rahm Emanuel/Hillary Clinton (if you squint hard enough)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Fiction
Summary: Hillary hatches a plan and she wants Rahm on her side. He isn't easily swayed, of course.
Author's Note: This is my first mafia!verse fic. (God, I love that 'verse, especially with Rahm Emanuel in it.)
"I... I have a proposal to make. I think it would be in your best interest to consider it," Hillary announces silently.
She stares at the windows behind the Chief of Staff's empty desk, trying to hold her composure as best as she can. At least the man standing behind her isn't coming any closer. She knows that she's in a bad position; she can't see him, therefore she can't judge his every move. With Rahm Emanuel standing behind you, who knows what could happen?
"Hillary," the President's Chief of Staff purrs in a tempting voice, "you know I always have a willing ear for you."
Lies. It's always lies. There are hardly any truths when you're dealing with people like him.
"Don't push me, Rahm," she warns. His footsteps are hardly audible on the plush rug, but despite his training as a ballet dancer she can easily detect his stealthy approach through the eerie silence.
"You're always so tense," he remarks as he finally reaches her. Laying a hand on her waist, he leans in to plant a small kiss on the side of her neck.
"Stop it right now." Hillary tries her best to sound threatening but Rahm refuses to listen. He reaches his hand into her suit jacket and wraps his fingers around the cold handle of a compact semi-automatic.
"You think you can hide this from me, don't you?" he hisses into her ear while grabbing the pistol, "You think I'm too stupid to realize that this is just a set-up?"
She frees herself from his grasp, turning around to retort angrily. "With you it's always lies and double crossing! Didn't you ever think that for once, I might be working on your side?"
"Now that's a very good question," he states with a casual smile as he flicks the safety lock on and off, "That's the kind of thing you should be asking."
"That gun is for our protection."
"I figured you'd say something like that to save your own ass." Rahm shrugs and stares at the semi-automatic in his hand. "Beautiful gun. I'd even venture to say that it's quite feminine. It's not the cheap kind, is it? Made in the USA?"
Hillary ignores this question. "Do you want to listen to my proposal or not?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," he says as he views the pistol in his hand. He's feigning disinterest for her benefit. She might be more willing to let a few intimate details escape this way.
"You and me. We'll work together to throw him out of office."
He knew it. He'd known this all along. The only thing that surprises him is how long it has taken her to share her plans with somebody else.
She continues on, "I've worked out most of the details. All you have to do is say yes."
"Don't tell me, Hillary," Rahm begins to say, "You've actually convinced Joe already."
"It was that or the whole plan would be in shambles."
"Shambles? Who says that anymore?" he asks, laughing. It sounds hollow and tinged with underlying sarcasm.
"Pick your side, Rahm," she states flatly while she eyes her gun in his hand. He twirls it by the trigger guard, catches the handle, and keeps on doing it as if he's a pro.
Which he probably is.
"You need a lot more to convince me, you know. Your ultimatum isn't enough. This is treason we're talking about."
"Money."
The word makes him look at her automatically. His attention isn't focused on the pistol anymore. Money is always much more interesting.
"Yeah, I'm listening," he replies.
"You want money, right?" she begins, "Never mind. In your case, that's a rhetorical question," she adds.
"In a capitalistic world, one can never have enough money. You know I'm quite fond of that saying, Hillary. I always make sure you remember it. Of all the things, don't ever disappoint me by forgetting my favorite saying."
"So, are you in or not?"
"How much are we talking here?"
"It's undisclosed information. But I'll have you know that it's more money than you've ever earned in one year."
"I've earned quite a bit."
"Your attempt at modesty is beyond pathetic."
"Hillary," Rahm begins to say, "once you have this whole deal squared away with the other members of your little conspiracy, then you can come back here and sell me your best offer. I want to hear the exact amount and none of this bullshit."
"I knew you'd say that."
"Then why did you even schedule this meeting? It's pointless! You've wasted my precious time on a discussion that led to nowhere."
She looks at him and says, "Oh, I'm just testing the waters. That's all. I wanted to see if you could be persuaded to join me."
"Give me the money first and then we'll talk again. Until then, consider this meeting over," he states firmly as he reaches for the door to his office.
"This discussion never happened," she whispers harshly at the doorway while she pauses to scrutinize his facial expression. Rahm keeps his emotions in check so his face remains strangely neutral.
When she's already out in the hallway, Rahm remembers one important detail and calls after her.
"Madam Secretary! I think you left something here."
She stops. Turning around, she expects him to wave the gun in the air as if it was an important document that needed signing. But of course, what she only sees is his hand hidden in a pocket of his suit jacket and an icy smile on his bemused face. He waves at her with his right hand; his stub of a middle finger is a grim reminder that Rahm Emanuel isn't an easy man to deal with.
Pairing: Rahm Emanuel/Hillary Clinton (if you squint hard enough)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Fiction
Summary: Hillary hatches a plan and she wants Rahm on her side. He isn't easily swayed, of course.
Author's Note: This is my first mafia!verse fic. (God, I love that 'verse, especially with Rahm Emanuel in it.)
"I... I have a proposal to make. I think it would be in your best interest to consider it," Hillary announces silently.
She stares at the windows behind the Chief of Staff's empty desk, trying to hold her composure as best as she can. At least the man standing behind her isn't coming any closer. She knows that she's in a bad position; she can't see him, therefore she can't judge his every move. With Rahm Emanuel standing behind you, who knows what could happen?
"Hillary," the President's Chief of Staff purrs in a tempting voice, "you know I always have a willing ear for you."
Lies. It's always lies. There are hardly any truths when you're dealing with people like him.
"Don't push me, Rahm," she warns. His footsteps are hardly audible on the plush rug, but despite his training as a ballet dancer she can easily detect his stealthy approach through the eerie silence.
"You're always so tense," he remarks as he finally reaches her. Laying a hand on her waist, he leans in to plant a small kiss on the side of her neck.
"Stop it right now." Hillary tries her best to sound threatening but Rahm refuses to listen. He reaches his hand into her suit jacket and wraps his fingers around the cold handle of a compact semi-automatic.
"You think you can hide this from me, don't you?" he hisses into her ear while grabbing the pistol, "You think I'm too stupid to realize that this is just a set-up?"
She frees herself from his grasp, turning around to retort angrily. "With you it's always lies and double crossing! Didn't you ever think that for once, I might be working on your side?"
"Now that's a very good question," he states with a casual smile as he flicks the safety lock on and off, "That's the kind of thing you should be asking."
"That gun is for our protection."
"I figured you'd say something like that to save your own ass." Rahm shrugs and stares at the semi-automatic in his hand. "Beautiful gun. I'd even venture to say that it's quite feminine. It's not the cheap kind, is it? Made in the USA?"
Hillary ignores this question. "Do you want to listen to my proposal or not?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," he says as he views the pistol in his hand. He's feigning disinterest for her benefit. She might be more willing to let a few intimate details escape this way.
"You and me. We'll work together to throw him out of office."
He knew it. He'd known this all along. The only thing that surprises him is how long it has taken her to share her plans with somebody else.
She continues on, "I've worked out most of the details. All you have to do is say yes."
"Don't tell me, Hillary," Rahm begins to say, "You've actually convinced Joe already."
"It was that or the whole plan would be in shambles."
"Shambles? Who says that anymore?" he asks, laughing. It sounds hollow and tinged with underlying sarcasm.
"Pick your side, Rahm," she states flatly while she eyes her gun in his hand. He twirls it by the trigger guard, catches the handle, and keeps on doing it as if he's a pro.
Which he probably is.
"You need a lot more to convince me, you know. Your ultimatum isn't enough. This is treason we're talking about."
"Money."
The word makes him look at her automatically. His attention isn't focused on the pistol anymore. Money is always much more interesting.
"Yeah, I'm listening," he replies.
"You want money, right?" she begins, "Never mind. In your case, that's a rhetorical question," she adds.
"In a capitalistic world, one can never have enough money. You know I'm quite fond of that saying, Hillary. I always make sure you remember it. Of all the things, don't ever disappoint me by forgetting my favorite saying."
"So, are you in or not?"
"How much are we talking here?"
"It's undisclosed information. But I'll have you know that it's more money than you've ever earned in one year."
"I've earned quite a bit."
"Your attempt at modesty is beyond pathetic."
"Hillary," Rahm begins to say, "once you have this whole deal squared away with the other members of your little conspiracy, then you can come back here and sell me your best offer. I want to hear the exact amount and none of this bullshit."
"I knew you'd say that."
"Then why did you even schedule this meeting? It's pointless! You've wasted my precious time on a discussion that led to nowhere."
She looks at him and says, "Oh, I'm just testing the waters. That's all. I wanted to see if you could be persuaded to join me."
"Give me the money first and then we'll talk again. Until then, consider this meeting over," he states firmly as he reaches for the door to his office.
"This discussion never happened," she whispers harshly at the doorway while she pauses to scrutinize his facial expression. Rahm keeps his emotions in check so his face remains strangely neutral.
When she's already out in the hallway, Rahm remembers one important detail and calls after her.
"Madam Secretary! I think you left something here."
She stops. Turning around, she expects him to wave the gun in the air as if it was an important document that needed signing. But of course, what she only sees is his hand hidden in a pocket of his suit jacket and an icy smile on his bemused face. He waves at her with his right hand; his stub of a middle finger is a grim reminder that Rahm Emanuel isn't an easy man to deal with.