Brittany groaned and rolled over in bed at the sound of her alarm clock, which read 6:30 a.m. She had slept like a rock, and clocked in a whole five and a half hours of sleep last night, the most she'd had in what felt like years. She groaned again when she remembered the date.

February 14th.

Brittany yawned as she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her large bed. Her large, empty bed. She'd never liked the date or what it entailed.

Alright, alright, the President thought to herself, heading off her thoughts before they got any grumpier. She tried to reminder herself she didn't mind being single, and that it wasn't the crime Valentine's Day made it out to be. Besides, today's about fighting for the rights of those who do have love and can't legally show it.

"These past two weeks have been really good for you, Madame President," Tina reported as Brittany smeared a bagel with cream cheese. The daily breakfast that was laid out in the dining room of the White House's residential floor was absolutely delicious. Brittany was determined to have a little bit of everything as often as she could.

"That's good," Brittany said absently as she poured some orange juice. If these past two weeks had been so good for her, why did she feel so damn rundown?

"Yes, it is. Your popularity is up in all demographics since your post-State of the Union address."

Brittany nodded through a large bite of her bagel, and her silence caused Tina to look up from her phone. "I don't know why I bother trying to talk to you during breakfast," Tina said frankly. "Here, I'll see you in an hour." Tina handed Brittany a slim folder as she stood and left the dining room.

Brittany opened the folder as she sipped her juice, eyeing what she knew was her morning briefing on anything and everything that happened or was rumoured to be happening anywhere and everywhere. She didn't know why Tina thought this would be easier to digest with her breakfast as opposed to her verbal update. The majority of her day was listening to people talk - anything before she got down to the Oval Office was at high risk of going in one ear and out the other.

The President finished up her breakfast and padded across the large hallway back into her bedroom. She turned on the water in the shower in her bathroom and shrugged off the long-sleeved shirt with FBI across the chest. As she hopped out of her sweatpants Brittany held a hand under the water to see if it was warm.

While she showered she thought about her schedule for the day. Meetings, meetings, meetings. Then emails and phone calls. The usual. Except tonight she had a special event for Valentine's Day at the HRC. They were having one of their many fundraisers for their marriage equality campaign, and the night was one of their bigger gatherings. Brittany would also be speaking, as well as mingling with almost every pro-LGBTQ politician and even a few celebrities.

After spending as much time as she could reasonably spend in the shower, Brittany finally turned off the water and grabbed her towel. Time to stop thinking about the day and head and actually get to it.

"You. Look. Gorgeous." Sugar Motta practically gasped each word as she stepped back to look Brittany over head to toe. Brittany looked at the fashion designer skeptically.

"You think?"

"Girl, - I mean - Madame President, you look absolutely breathtaking." Sugar beamed at her handiwork on the first female President of the United States.

Brittany walked over to the mirror in her dressing room and was startled at the person she saw in the mirror. After almost a month of boring suits - pant or skirt - the one-shouldered, deep purple dress she wore now reminded her that she still had a nice, lean figure underneath all the drabness. Her hair was up in an intricately woven bun.

"And you haven't even gotten your makeup done yet!" Sugar brushed at the back of the dress that stopped right above Brittany's knees.

"You don't think it's too much? Or too little...fabric?" Brittany worried over what the critics would say.

"It's fine! The dress is tight in all the right places but otherwise modest, the color looks great on you, your jewelry will be classy as all hell, and anyone who thinks anything bad can go get bent." Sugar cracked her gum between her teeth as she continued looking Brittany over for any flaws. "I mean, you're the President, right? They're gonna say shit about you no matter what, right?"

Brittany managed a small smile at the woman's practical advice. She still felt butterflies in her stomach, but they were a mixture of nerves and excitement. She loved dressing up and hadn't had a lot of opportunities in the recent years. Sure, she'd be speaking in front of a large roomful of people, and it would be recorded and put online later for an even larger audience of 7 billion people, but she planned on looking damn good while doing it. And hell, it was for a good cause - one she might possibly benefit from personally down the road. That thought made the nervous butterflies go a little crazy, so she shook her head slightly to rid herself of it.

"And here are your shoes," Sugar held out a pair of modest heels.

"Man I haven't worn heels in forever," Brittany smiled as she pulled the shoes on.

"Oh please, those tiny things? They're barely heels," Sugar teased.

"Well that's fine by me, I'm already plenty tall."

"God you're absolutely stunning. Secret Service better keep an eye on you tonight, someone's definitely gonna try and steal you away." Sugar said, still looking Brittany up and down. "C'mon, let's get your makeup done so it looks like you get some sleep."

"You really do look beautiful," Artie commented as they rode in the back of the state car to the HRC's fundraiser.

Brittany smiled. "Thank you. You clean up well yourself."

Her veep really did look good in his fresh suit, clean shaven and hair done by the woman who did Brittany's makeup. Artie even let the woman cover the bags under his own eyes. The two of them each looked 5 years younger.

"Maybe you'll even pick up a hot lady date tonight," Artie gave Brittany a little smirk. She shot him a sharp look and he just shrugged, still smirking.

The last thing Brittany wanted to think about right now was the multitude of lesbians or bi women who would probably be at the event. She spent the rest of the short ride practicing the key parts of her speech in her head.

When they pulled up to the special entrance set aside for them, the two Secret Service agents in the front of the car stepped out to open the doors for them and help Artie into his wheelchair.

As soon as they entered the hallway, which from the sound of things was behind the ballroom the fundraiser was taking place in, Tina appeared and started going over the evening's plans as they walked.

"Alright, you're speaking after the head of the HRC introduces you, then it's a simple dine and mingle situation. Obviously you're not committing to anything besides fighting for the cause, you're not answering questions about any other topic at all - like, no other topic, and here, put this on," Tina held out a small heart pin with the HRC logo in the center. Brittany pinned it on the right side of her chest, where the fabric started to go up and over her shoulder.

"You look fabulous, by the way," Tina said.

"Alright already, I know I'm the President but you guys don't have to kiss my ass, you've got the jobs already."

Tina laughed distractedly as she checked her buzzing phone, and Artie grinned as he finished pinning his heart pin to the lapel of his suit jacket. They reached the double doors that led to the large ballroom.

"Okay, we're sitting at table 1, towards the front and center."

A Secret Service agent posted by the doors opened them for the trio, and Tina dropped back behind Brittany and Artie as the entire room burst into applause.

"Ladies and gentleman, and all those who like to live outside the gender binary, please welcome the President and Vice President of the United States!" A man with a mic on the stage announced. Brittany smiled and waved, nodding humbly as she and Artie started making their way to the front of the room with Tina and two Secret Service men following close behind.

Getting to any seat as President proved to take twice as long as it might take the average person due to all the handshaking. Brittany shook as many hands as she could before finally making it to her table, where she, Artie, Tina, and a few other members of her staff were going to spend the evening. Brittany sipped from the glass of water next to her beautifully folded napkin.

Now that she was seated, she took the opportunity to look around the room. It was tastefully decorated with red and pink flowers, cupid cutouts, and signs that read "Love is Love." There were probably 300 people there, with waiters walking around constantly taking drink orders. At her table, and she assumed at every table, were little laminated cards talking about the Human Rights Campaign and what they did.

After a little while the room settled down and the man with the mic, who Brittany understood to be the president of the HRC, cleared his throat.

"Alright everyone, I know we're all excited to hear from our honored guest, the President, the first female President of the United States,"

There were a few whoops and cheers from the crowd and Brittany smiled.

"So I'd like to invite her up to speak, and then we can get on to the dinner and auction, where all proceeds go to the HRC and it's fight for marriage equality, as well as general LGBT equality!"

Everyone clapped and cheered, and only increased their sentiment when Brittany stood to make her way up to the stage.

"It is my great honor to present to you, President Brittany Pierce!"

Brittany smiled and waved as she made her way to the podium. "Thank you, thank you."

"I would like to start off by saying that it's a great honor and pleasure to be here tonight to help support a cause that I truly believe in."

Brittany looked out across the audience, but the lighting on her prevented her from really seeing faces. She licked her lips and continued.

"As President, I face a lot of conflict every day. As a woman, especially the first woman to sit in the Oval Office not as the First Lady accompanying her husband, I face conflict every day. And yet I still cannot imagine facing the conflict that our friends and family, our neighbors and coworkers, who identify as gay or lesbian, or queer or trans must face every day. Our children -" Brittany paused as everyone clapped.

"Our children, every day at school, or even at home, are bullied and downright tortured for who they are, who they love. Two adults in a loving relationship can't get married just because their matching towels would read Mr. and Mr. or Mrs. and Mrs.

"As president, I promise to fight for the basic human rights to walk the streets of America safely, to marry and enjoy the same declarations of love as heterosexual couples do - the same benefits and recognition - I promise to fight for these rights, because like these beautiful banners read," Brittany pointed to one on the wall.

"Love is love."

Brittany looked around the room as everyone stood up and applauded. There were whistles and shouts of approval, and Brittany nodded and waved before stepping down. She made her way back to her table, shaking a few hands as she went.

"Perfect," Artie smiled and held out his hand as Brittany sat back down.

"Thanks," she said as she shook his hand.

Dinner was served soon after, and someone announced there was a cash bar in the back. Brittany decided to check it out. "Anyone want anything?"

"No thanks, and please be careful," Tina glanced up warily at Brittany.

"I'm allowed a drink now, aren't I?"

Brittany smiled as Tina rolled her eyes at her and made her way over to the bar. She wasn't oblivious to the Secret Service men posted around the room, at least one at each potential entry point. It was unnerving but comforting all at once.

She stood at the bar not sure of what to get. After a few moments she leaned over the counter. "Just gimme a beer, whichever you think is the best you got back there."

"Yes ma'am," the bartender smiled. He pulled out a bottle and popped the cap off before sliding a napkin under it and putting it down in front of Brittany. "That'll be eight,"

"Oh damn," Brittany muttered, patting her sides as if feeling pockets, pockets that didn't actually exist. She'd totally forgotten she didn't have cash on her, or even a purse at her table.

"Here, and I'll have a rum and coke,"

Brittany raised her eyebrows and looked over to find a woman handing the bartender a twenty dollar bill. She looked familiar...

"Thanks," Brittany said sheepishly as she took her beer.

"No problem," the woman smiled, watching the bartender make her drink. Brittany remembered where she knew the woman from.

"Senator Lopez?"

"Yes, but please, call me Santana," Santana answered with a smile and extended her hand. Brittany shook it.

"Brittany," she said, as they dropped hands and Santana took her drink.

"I know," Santana chuckled. "You know, you being the President and all."

"Oh right, that," Brittany said softly. "Sorry, feels weird to not introduce myself, even if I guess people know my name already."

"It's okay," Santana smiled, and Brittany felt like the woman had X-ray vision with the way she was looking at her.

"You look incredible, by the way. I love your dress. And you spoke well, of course."

Brittany blushed under all the praise. "Oh please, you're just saying that -"

"'Cause you're the President? You know, you're going to have to learn the difference between bullshit and true praise," Santana raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her drink.

"Oh yeah, well help me out here, I'm still new on the job - you just buttering me up to ask me to sign off on something?"

"Nope, just an admirer..." Brittany held her breath as the woman spoke. "...as a fellow politician. Don't want you getting any ideas about me buying you a drink on Valentine's Day," Santana smirked.

Brittany exhaled and took a swig from her beer. This woman had a way with words, no wonder she was in politics. As unsure of herself as Brittany might have been at times, she usually did a good job at projecting confidence, but now she felt like a fish out of water.

"Well thank you, then. You look very pretty too - you're almost as tall as me in those magnificent heels you've got on." Brittany smiled, glad to see the tiniest wrinkle in Santana's brow. She could tease, too.

"Thanks, they're great, aren't they? And, for the record, I'm only ignoring your dig at my height because you're the President."

"Good to know," Brittany grinned and took another swig of beer. Santana smiled as well, a coy smile that made Brittany pleasantly nervous.

"Alright, I don't want to keep you too long." Santana started to turn to walk away.

"Wait," Brittany said and Santana stopped. "Uh, well thanks again for the drink. I owe you one,"

"I'll keep that in mind. It was nice bumping into you again, Madame President."

"You too."

Brittany turned to walk back to her table, replaying the conversation with Santana in her head. The butterflies in her stomach were back and she took a sip from her beer as she sat down at her table again.

"What were you talking to New York about?" Artie asked, leaning over.

"Oh...nothing important. Just mingling. And her name is Santana."

Artie raised an eyebrow and Brittany gave him a look. "What? I'm supposed to rub shoulders at these things, right? So that's what I was doing."

"Alright, well let's go rub some more shoulders," Tina said, interjecting herself into the conversation. Brittany frowned, her dinner barely touched.

"Okay, but I'm bringing my beer," Brittany said as if someone was going to fight her on it.

"Sure," Tina motioned her over, Brittany well aware of her intentions to parade her around the room, "mingling".

As the night went on, Brittany smiled and chatted with anyone and everyone Tina brought her to, or brought to her. She didn't see Santana again for the rest of the night, but the woman was the only constant on her brain for the rest of the evening, right until her head hit the pillow back at the White House.