Laura and Bill meet President Obama!
Special Prosecutions: Nomination
Word count ~1000
Rating - K (seriously as tame as can be. If you want some smutty SP I can heartily recommend nixmom's Little Gifts.)
I wrote this forever ago! Now that Obama has another term, maybe Judge Roslin still has a shot at the Circuit. Never give up hope!
October 5, 2011
The familiar African-American man with short greying hair stepped up to the podium, and Laura’s heart caught in her throat as she respectfully rose with the crowd. She wiped sweaty palms on her skirt and took a deep breath, looking around at the smattering of reporters, bureaucrats, and lawyers gathered in the White House’s East Room. Bill clasped her hand in his larger one and squeezed it reassuringly as the man nodded at the small audience to return to their seats.
“Good morning, everyone,” President Obama intoned affably. “This morning I would like to announce several judicial nominations.
“To the seat on the United States Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit vacated by Judge Maryanne Trump Barry, I nominate Judge Laura Roslin. Judge Roslin is currently a Magistrate Judge in the United States District Court for the District of New Jersey. Judge Roslin has a long and impressive record of public service and a history of handing down fair and judicious decisions. She will be a thoughtful and distinguished addition to the Third Circuit, and I am extremely pleased to put her forward for consideration by the Senate.”
Laura turned to Bill, hardly hearing the President’s subsequent discussion of the two other nominees. “This is just too much,” she whispered, looking around the grand room where Abigail Adams had once hung her laundry and, according to the Washington Post, some outfit called The Jonas Brothers had performed the previous evening.
Bill gave her his most heartfelt grin, the one that had made her fall for him so many years ago. “I am so happy for you, honey. You deserve this,” he murmured, his hand resting on the small of her back.
They stood and applauded along with everyone else as the President left the dais. Obama nodded at the three nominees and came over to the floor to congratulate them. “It’s all up to the Senate now,” he said, smiling sympathetically. “Hang in there.” Laura thanked him as he shook her and Bill’s hands and watched him retreat briskly into his entourage of Secret Service agents. She shook her head slightly in amazement; she could never do his job. Still, she was grateful and more than a little awed that he was trying to give her a new one.
“Well, we’ve got a few hours before we have to catch our train back home,” Bill said. “Why don’t we try that tapas restaurant by Gallery Place for lunch?”
“Sure, something other than Italian sounds good,” Laura said, still obviously in a daze. She schooled her thoughts to consider the geography of Washington, D.C. “We can walk there from here.” It was a nice day out, and the cool autumn air felt good as they left the White House. She didn’t get outside during the day very often, she realized ruefully; she was always holed up in her fortress-like chambers, breathing the same recirculating air, eating lunch at her desk as she reviewed paperwork for the next bond hearing, guilty plea, or discovery motion.
They strolled hand-in-hand down E Street NW in companionable silence, occasionally looking at each other and exchanging pleased smiles. When they reached 10th, Laura tugged at him to turn left with her. As they passed by Ford’s Theater, she pointed at it and giggled. “You know how you always say you stay out of politics because in politics, you can get killed over and over? I think Mr. Lincoln might disagree with you.”
Bill shook his head. “Lincoln had plenty of political near-death experiences. But I’ll concede that this was one even he couldn’t shake off.”
When they arrived at the restaurant and were led to a private corner table, Bill surprised her by ordering them a pitcher of sangria. “We’re celebrating, and we won’t be back at work for hours,” he said in response to her raised eyebrow. “You have just been personally nominated by the President of the United States to hold a lifetime appointment to a court one level below the Supreme Court of the United States, Laura. I am so proud of you.”
She laughed. “I really, really can’t believe it. Everyone on the Third Circuit is so...connected, you know? Judge Barry is Donald Trump’s sister. Judge Rendell was simultaneously First Lady of Pennsylvania and an appellate judge. Jane Roth’s husband was a Senator from Delaware. And I’m just this girl from Paterson with an under-the-radar”--she patted his hand-- “though extremely powerful and influential, long-standing 'date.'” He chuckled at their inside joke while she tilted her head, thinking. “I’m just saying, I would have thought I’d be pretty far down the line of succession for elevation to the Circuit.”
“Mike’s path to the bench is pretty much the same as yours,” he reminded her. “He clerked for Judge Greenberg in Trenton the same year we clerked for Judge Cottle.”
Laura hummed. “He called to congratulate me when he heard about the nomination.” She smiled, thinking back to their ten years in the US Attorney’s office together with now-Judge Chagares, culminating in their becoming a ruling triumvirate of the career prosecutors. “We were quite a team: civil chief, criminal chief and head of ‘Special Prosecutions.’” She wagged her eyebrows at him as she always did when she teased him about his title.
When the server returned with the pitcher and two glasses, Bill deftly poured them each one and offered his glass up in a toast. “To my best friend, the love of my life, and an excellent jurist. May the Senate get their act together quickly for you.”
Laura beamed at him as they clinked their glasses together. Bill’s heart sank a little at the thought that he might be an obstacle in Laura’s path to confirmation. Or rather, a personal vendetta against him might. He forced a smile in return and tried to push thoughts of the Adar investigation out of his mind.
Word count ~1000
Rating - K (seriously as tame as can be. If you want some smutty SP I can heartily recommend nixmom's Little Gifts.)
I wrote this forever ago! Now that Obama has another term, maybe Judge Roslin still has a shot at the Circuit. Never give up hope!
October 5, 2011
The familiar African-American man with short greying hair stepped up to the podium, and Laura’s heart caught in her throat as she respectfully rose with the crowd. She wiped sweaty palms on her skirt and took a deep breath, looking around at the smattering of reporters, bureaucrats, and lawyers gathered in the White House’s East Room. Bill clasped her hand in his larger one and squeezed it reassuringly as the man nodded at the small audience to return to their seats.
“Good morning, everyone,” President Obama intoned affably. “This morning I would like to announce several judicial nominations.
“To the seat on the United States Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit vacated by Judge Maryanne Trump Barry, I nominate Judge Laura Roslin. Judge Roslin is currently a Magistrate Judge in the United States District Court for the District of New Jersey. Judge Roslin has a long and impressive record of public service and a history of handing down fair and judicious decisions. She will be a thoughtful and distinguished addition to the Third Circuit, and I am extremely pleased to put her forward for consideration by the Senate.”
Laura turned to Bill, hardly hearing the President’s subsequent discussion of the two other nominees. “This is just too much,” she whispered, looking around the grand room where Abigail Adams had once hung her laundry and, according to the Washington Post, some outfit called The Jonas Brothers had performed the previous evening.
Bill gave her his most heartfelt grin, the one that had made her fall for him so many years ago. “I am so happy for you, honey. You deserve this,” he murmured, his hand resting on the small of her back.
They stood and applauded along with everyone else as the President left the dais. Obama nodded at the three nominees and came over to the floor to congratulate them. “It’s all up to the Senate now,” he said, smiling sympathetically. “Hang in there.” Laura thanked him as he shook her and Bill’s hands and watched him retreat briskly into his entourage of Secret Service agents. She shook her head slightly in amazement; she could never do his job. Still, she was grateful and more than a little awed that he was trying to give her a new one.
“Well, we’ve got a few hours before we have to catch our train back home,” Bill said. “Why don’t we try that tapas restaurant by Gallery Place for lunch?”
“Sure, something other than Italian sounds good,” Laura said, still obviously in a daze. She schooled her thoughts to consider the geography of Washington, D.C. “We can walk there from here.” It was a nice day out, and the cool autumn air felt good as they left the White House. She didn’t get outside during the day very often, she realized ruefully; she was always holed up in her fortress-like chambers, breathing the same recirculating air, eating lunch at her desk as she reviewed paperwork for the next bond hearing, guilty plea, or discovery motion.
They strolled hand-in-hand down E Street NW in companionable silence, occasionally looking at each other and exchanging pleased smiles. When they reached 10th, Laura tugged at him to turn left with her. As they passed by Ford’s Theater, she pointed at it and giggled. “You know how you always say you stay out of politics because in politics, you can get killed over and over? I think Mr. Lincoln might disagree with you.”
Bill shook his head. “Lincoln had plenty of political near-death experiences. But I’ll concede that this was one even he couldn’t shake off.”
When they arrived at the restaurant and were led to a private corner table, Bill surprised her by ordering them a pitcher of sangria. “We’re celebrating, and we won’t be back at work for hours,” he said in response to her raised eyebrow. “You have just been personally nominated by the President of the United States to hold a lifetime appointment to a court one level below the Supreme Court of the United States, Laura. I am so proud of you.”
She laughed. “I really, really can’t believe it. Everyone on the Third Circuit is so...connected, you know? Judge Barry is Donald Trump’s sister. Judge Rendell was simultaneously First Lady of Pennsylvania and an appellate judge. Jane Roth’s husband was a Senator from Delaware. And I’m just this girl from Paterson with an under-the-radar”--she patted his hand-- “though extremely powerful and influential, long-standing 'date.'” He chuckled at their inside joke while she tilted her head, thinking. “I’m just saying, I would have thought I’d be pretty far down the line of succession for elevation to the Circuit.”
“Mike’s path to the bench is pretty much the same as yours,” he reminded her. “He clerked for Judge Greenberg in Trenton the same year we clerked for Judge Cottle.”
Laura hummed. “He called to congratulate me when he heard about the nomination.” She smiled, thinking back to their ten years in the US Attorney’s office together with now-Judge Chagares, culminating in their becoming a ruling triumvirate of the career prosecutors. “We were quite a team: civil chief, criminal chief and head of ‘Special Prosecutions.’” She wagged her eyebrows at him as she always did when she teased him about his title.
When the server returned with the pitcher and two glasses, Bill deftly poured them each one and offered his glass up in a toast. “To my best friend, the love of my life, and an excellent jurist. May the Senate get their act together quickly for you.”
Laura beamed at him as they clinked their glasses together. Bill’s heart sank a little at the thought that he might be an obstacle in Laura’s path to confirmation. Or rather, a personal vendetta against him might. He forced a smile in return and tried to push thoughts of the Adar investigation out of his mind.