Summary: Two months after the attacks in Washington, Asher tries to piece the country, his life and what's left of his family together.

Rating: T

Author's Note: I saw the movie the other day and couldn't resist. I like Aaron Eckhart. Not much fan fiction here. I decided to contribute. (Title change from 'The Tutor'.)

E. Pluribus Unum

Chapter II

The weather was changing and not for the better. The sharp spike of pain rushing up Danielle Mason's right leg was proof she was in for another long and crippling winter. Fingers clenching the bedding from the intense discomfort, she reached immediately reached for salvation. The bottle of Vicodin HP sitting on the night stand on top of Dan Brown's newest thriller…Inferno.

Doctor prescribed one pill be taken every 4-6 hours.

Danielle popped in three. She needed a strong kick to her leg muscles this morning. If not she wouldn't make it pass noon. At that hour, as if on a timer, pain reared its ugly head and she would be hobbling like Igor. Earnest to do his master's bidding. The car accident had taken its toll and three years of her life. Three years of agony and anxiety. Three years of surgery and intense physical therapy that brought sweat and tears to her eyes. And it had taken another year to walk with some measure of grace. Danielle grimly remembered the first evening she dared take a step beyond the safe reach of her walking stick. It was at Gary and Mary's wedding anniversary and for all her grief the couple lived in a turn of the century white stone mansion. The mansion had a grand staircase. Grand and spiral.

"Heaven's Ladder," Mary said with a beam of luster glowing in her eyes as she admired the flawless marble. Flawless revealed its true nature when the strength in her right leg gave out while trying to climb up pass the third landing to the reception on the roof. Right in front of everyone, Danielle toppled three steps, bruising her bottom as well as her pride.

Utterly embarrassed, after three glasses of wine, she made excuses and took an early exit. A regret she come to face for Mary had made the announcement that night that she was going to have a baby. It had hurt to miss the announcement, but not as much as the brutal chill cutting into already aching muscles provoked by the fall. Now winter was here again and the thought made the muscles ache down to the bone.

With a grunt she pushed the downy quilt forward. Battling the pain dead on, inhaling deeply, she came to a sit, swinging her legs over to the side of the bed. The muscles in her bad leg throbbed. She bit her bottom lip. A second felt like an eternity as she sat there waiting for the pain to abate. When it did, she hobbled to her feet, clutching the chair she ritually sat two feet from the bed to catch her balance.

Counting ten second, she collected her strength, throwing her head back to the right to pop the kink in her neck. Reluctantly, she took her walking stick (an antique gold head finish that once belonged to her grandfather) she limped to the bathroom…showered…though it took some time.

One hour and a cup of coffee and an onion bagel later she was bundling into Gucci coat bought at an amazing discount at one of their couture stores. Okay, so it wasn't on a discount rather than the store clearing out last season's undesirables. And it didn't hurt she had a doctorate in Child Psychology, ensuring a semi-sizable bank account. Keys and walking stick in hand she left her small, but comfy condo.

Outside nature was undergoing a glorious transformation as the leaves of oak and elms trees standing like quiet sentinels along the sidewalk changed from a rich green to a multiple array of colors. Vibrant reds. Brilliant Oranges. Soft Yellows. It was for this turn in season she remained in the north; remained in Washington D.C. and battled the cold. Dealt with the aches and pains that made walking difficult. Call her foolish but Danielle simply loved watching the change in season ever since she was a little girl. It was a nice change.

Quickly scrambling for her keys, the cold biting in her leg, she got into a black Lexus SUV. She checked to make sure she had her briefcase. A leather Samsonite flap over. The previous day she'd forgotten it along with all her notes and files of each of her patients. But she had been distracted. Mary had phoned her early in morning completely in hysterics. Something about Gary not coming home after an argument about Nick their son.

Gary had scolded her for being too smothering. Complained how she constantly picked up their son whenever the 18 month old cried. 'The boy needs to toughen up,' he'd said. She told him he was being ridiculous, Nick was still a baby. The scream fest had escalated until Nick started crying. Mary went to fetch him. Gary obstructed her path. It was then the truth of how she was neglecting him as his needs came out. Mary said something that sparked his immediate departure.

Tearful she'd called Danielle. As much as she loved her friends, she was a child psychiatrist not a marriage counselor. She wasn't trained for these little dramas nor did she want to get involved. It was the worst thing any friend could do especially since she wasn't married. Danielle did her best to calm marry down and promised the pair would meet for lunch and talk. Grateful, Mary ended the call, only to leave Danielle in a tizzy as she fool around her condo snatching up purse and keys; leaving her briefcase behind.

"Yep, it's there," she said to herself after a quick glimpse in the back seat. Switching on the car, revving the engine, and pulling away from the curb.

Taking the US 1 alternate, she drove deep into the very heart of Washington D.C. Her office was in a building that was right smack on Pennsylvania Avenue where several prominent buildings were located in the area. Most mornings it would take her twenty minutes to reach the building. However, since the 4th of July, traffic was backed up. There were check points at every turn. Several roads were closed. Police officers and soldiers were on point. It was a certifiable nightmare. Then again, so was that day.

She parked in the public parking at the handicapped spot. Was given a red ticket and a look of suspicion by the one of the security guards. Smiling kindly, she took her ticket, and left while working hard to stifle her temper. She wanted to be offended but she couldn't. After what happened no one was above questioning.

At a glimpse to her watch Danielle saw that it was a quarter to nine and with difficulty quickened her steps, gripping her walking stick as she entered the lobby of the building. It wasn't odd to find it jammed with people in line waiting for the elevators. Local security were scanning badges and x-raying personal effects.

"For Christ sake's we were here yesterday assholes," a guy muttered behind her.

Danielle looked over her shoulder and smiled tightly. Harry Mills was a lawyer for a law firm below her floor.

"It's the price we pay for freedom Harry."

"What freedom?" he snorted with derision. "Blame Asher for the Disneyland lines we have to endure every day. If he was half the President I thought he was we wouldn't be in this nightmare in the first place."

Danielle cut her eyes sharply at him, her soft lips pressing together tightly. "If I were you Harry," she lowered her voice. "I wouldn't talk too much shit about Asher. Not at this time. Not when they have mean looking ball-busting Marines standing right over there." She gestured with her eyes at the two men decked in battle hardened gear with machine guns locked and loaded and gripped tightly in their hands.

Coiling like a worm on a hook, Harry shrank into himself lowering his eyes to the floor, his face paling white. A light bead of sweat pebbled his brow inciting a satisfied grin on Danielle's face. 'All talk and no action,' she thought taking a step forward as the line progressed. Ten minutes later she arrived—finally—on the 22nd floor greeting familiar faces in her sluggish journey to her office. To her surprise there were two very distinct men dressed in dark tailored suits standing like sentinels just outside her door.

They stood eyes front with dour expressions on their faces. Tentatively, she slowed her pace, the rhythm of her heart increasing as assumptions roamed in her brain. Sensing her presence their gazed snapped to her like the crack of a whip.

"Dr. Danielle Mason?" one of them spoke with such resounding authority that the pit of her stomach tightened.

Her throat caught momentarily and she coughed to clear it. "Yes?"

"May I see some identification?"

"Of course," she fumbled inside her purse and retrieved her driver's license. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem," the man took it and examined it closely, feeling the edges to if it had been tampered with. He then lifted his wrist and spoke into the receiver. "It's her. We have a green light." Rotating, the men stepped two feet from the door. He handed back her license. "You can go in."

'I have to ask permission to enter my damn office,' she thought grimly.

Limping in to the small waiting area, Danielle encountered other men in suits, and a very panicky Ann sitting at her reception desk.

"Ann," Danielle frowned. "What the hell is this? Where is Mrs. Harker and Bobby?"

"We asked Miss Taylor to cancel all of your morning appointments Dr. Mason."

Danielle turned and was immediately floored. Special agent Mike Banning stood before her strong, intimidating. The country's hero was standing right in her waiting room. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was in her main office. Her pulse quickened and she fumbled with her bag and her briefcase.

"I'll—I'll take those Dr. Mason," Ann skipped to her feet, gathering the bags and coat into her arms.

Mike swung sharply and led Danielle into her office. It was a spacious and warm environment designed to induce a feeling of home and well-being in her young patients. There were even toys and an artwork station set up in the far left corner to allow for expression and divulging of inner emotions.

"Give us a moment will you Mike."

Danielle followed the voice to a lone figure standing in front a ceiling high window. Her stomach twisted and her heart fluttered against her ribcage. The leader of the free world was in her office.

"Holler if you need me."

Asher twisted around and outside light coming through the window darkened him somewhat. There was a comical look on face as he stared a Danielle and a light chuckled rolled in his throat. "Oh, I doubt she'll do me any harm."

"Never underestimate your opponent, Mr. President," Danielle stated rather stiffly. "And never take what they offer you."

A gleam hitched Mike's right eyebrow and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He ducked out the room, closing the solid polished oak behind him. For several minutes Danielle and Asher stared at each other. Gauging. Seizing up other.

"You weren't announced." Danielle said.

"Technically, I'm not here," Asher replied and looked her up and down again. "You look good Dani. I like what you've done with your hair."

"Cut the crap Ben," she snorted, rolling her eyes, squeezing the head of her walking stick. "I look like hell."

"How long has it been? Eight years?"

"Ten," she corrected.

Asher looked baffled. "God! Has it been that long?"

"What do you want Ben?" she demanded cutting through the horseshit and false pleasantries.

"Same ol' Dani," he snickered stepping casually towards her. "You haven't changed a bit?"

"It's good to know one of us hasn't," she replied and felt a small amount of pleasure at the way Asher's face dropped like stone. There was a clear meaning in her words. One that proclaimed that all was not forgiven.

"You're still angry with me," he said softly.

"No. Just annoyed," she moved to her desk, far more easily now. The Vicodin had kicked in relaxing away the ache that would normally be killing her from standing up so long. "I had appointments and you felt the need to break them." She glared at him almost viciously. "Tell me why? And then you can leave."

"I need your help Dani." His face was pleading. "I need your help with Connor. He's—Christ I don't know. Ever since hell had broken loose he hasn't been the same. Fighting in school. His grades are dropping. He lashes out at everyone including Mike and he used to adore the guy. I don't know what to do."

"Have you taken him to see a specialist?"

"The best but…" Asher's shoulders slump in defeat. "They're not helping. One schmuck says to do this another suggest we go a holiday. We went to beach just like I promised but it hasn't helped. He's retreating I know he is. Doesn't ever care to go up to his mother's gravesite anymore. This shit that went down at the White House…it broke him."

"So now you expect me to pick up the pieces," Danielle said somewhat bothered by Ben's notion that he can just breeze into her life after so many years.

"I'm not expecting anything Dani. I was hoping you could see him…just once a week…no pressure. Please. I want my son back."

"Why me?"

"Because…I know you…and I trust you. I don't really trust these guys. These assholes just want the prestige of seeing the President's son. For now they have to be quiet but I know that once I'm out of office they'll write a book about Connor."

"And violate patient confidentially…lose their license."

"Not if they retire."

Irritated, Danielle looked away. "Ben, this is highly irregular. I haven't seen you since you cut me out your life and suddenly you want me to put what's left of your world back together."

"I didn't cut you of my life," he disputed, his temper rising.

"No. You chose money and power over love and simplicity."

"I saw an opportunity and I took it."

Her lovely face twisted mockingly. "Of course. It's hard to run a campaign on a modest budget. Maggie…her family money…connections secured all the finances."

"I didn't marry Maggie because she was rich."

"Then why did you marry her?" she inquired staring deeply into his eyes. She'd forgotten how beautiful they were and how the swirling pools of blue made her weak in the knees. A moment of hesitation flashed across his face and she scoffed. "You can't even answer."

"I loved her," he eventually said.

"But not the way you loved me," she gazed at him critically. "Don't worry I understand. I wouldn't have made a model First Lady." Her eyes dropped to the surface of her desk as an anguish she thought had long been buried surfaced. "You wouldn't have won with a sistah on your arm."

Asher balked his mouth popping open like a cod fish. His brow wrinkled as he scowled. "That's not true. I never took the fact that you're black into consideration the whole entirety of our relationship. And even when we decided to call it quits."

"But the country might have. Although American's speak of progress and forward thinking, we both know they're not ready to see an interracial First Couple. It's all facts and figures Ben and getting the right amount of votes."

"This isn't about us Dani, this is about Connor." He strode toward her desk, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Week kneed, Danielle braced a hand on the table. God, how he looked handsome. In fact, he looked even better now than back when they were dating in college. "Will you help me?"

It was tempting. So great a temptation Danielle could almost taste it. This was a monumental career move most people would kill for. She could name three colleagues who'd jump at the chance to personally supervise Connor Asher's recuperation. Not to mention the social and political connections. But Danielle wasn't them. She had no desires for glory and prestige. She achieved all of her goals. All she wanted now was a quiet, mainstream life.

"I'm sorry Ben," she apologized, "but I can't."

Asher frowned. "Why?"

Exhaling, she shook her head. "Because I don't need the press picking through my personal life, that's why?"

"It would be strictly confidential. You can see my son one a week. I'll arrange everything. No one will be the wiser."

"I—I'm sorry. The answer is still no."

"Why?"

"Because I have numerous patients to attend to. It's unfair to make your son a priority when I have invested so much time with them."

"Look, if this has something to do with us—"

Danielle scoffed. "This is nothing to do with us Ben! And if it was would I still be talking to you. I would've asked you to leave the second I laid eyes on you." She settled into the cushioned chair behind her desk and commenced opening files. "Now, I have some patients to attend to. Hopefully you haven't canceled the rest of my day."

By her tone, Asher understood, and took his cue to leave. Just as his hand rested on the door knob, he heard her voice all to him. "Ben." He paused turning slightly. "I'm sorry about Maggie. Truly I am."

"Thanks," he said quietly and left.

Author's Note: After seeing the TV series Scandal and reading Mallory Monroe's The President's Girlfriend, I was tickled by the idea of making this an interracial love story.