Author's Note: This chapter was co-authored by Denini and Misbehavin' with an assist from SK. Basically it is a continuation of Happy Birthday Madame President. It picks up where Mac is leaving her party to make some phone calls. As usual, the italicized text in the first part of this chapter is dialogue from the show.

The purpose of this story has always been to explore the impact of the presidency on the marriage of Rod and Mackenzie: its affect on them as individuals, how it has changed the dynamics of their relationship, and how it has changed them as individuals and as a couple–ultimately strengthening their marriage and bringing them closer together. This chapter continues that journey.

The conversation outside between Rod & Mackenzie is based upon their earlier conversation in her personal study about the military operation, the Delta team and her birthday. It is also derived from Mac's verbal and non-verbal actions and reactions from the time the team is ambushed until the end of the episode. Everything else, in our opinion, just completes her birthday celebration and takes them to an even greater level of understanding. And of course, all of it is purely for fun... because, after all, there can never be too much Rod and Mac.

4. Highs and Lows

Rod watched Mackenzie move towards the stairs. He knew the kind of day she'd had and where she was going. He was worried about her, so he'd been keeping a close eye on her. By the time he caught up with her she was almost to the landing on the stairs.

"Is everything all right?" He put his hands in his pockets.

Mac stopped and turned around from below. "Yeah... just have a couple of calls to make."

Pointing back towards the party, Rod asked hesitantly, "Was this okay?"

"This was wonderful."

Her smile appeared genuine, but he still wasn't sure he'd made the right choice. "Because I was kind of trapped. Everyone had already flown in. I mean, you can imagine how excited they were to see you."

"Rod," she interrupted with a nod, "I needed this." She thanked him with her eyes.

"Yeah... you did."

She momentarily looked at her shoes and then proceeded down the stairs.

Rod watched her with a closed-mouth grin, but concern in his eyes. He knew exactly what calls she'd be making. Well, he'd get back to playing host and give her a little time. But then he'd go after her.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Mac walked through the Palm Room and out onto the West Colonnade before entering the West Wing and proceeding to her office. The place was almost totally deserted. Just as it should be on a Friday night, she thought. She sat down at her desk and seeing the three telephone numbers in front of her, she mentally prepared herself to make these calls. Generally, regardless of how trying or demanding things got, she loved her job. And she hoped to make a difference–to leave behind a real legacy of governing with strength, integrity and compassion.

At this moment, however, she hated her job. Her decision today had cost three young Americans their lives. She hadn't yet as President had to make the calls she'd momentarily be making. But tonight she did. She was where the buck stopped. She was the Commander in Chief. And tonight she had to explain her choice to three families who were still in shock, still reeling from the unexpected loss of their sons, their brothers, their fathers... their husbands.

Well, happy birthday to me. She'd meant what she'd told Rod. She did need the party tonight, needed to be with old friends who saw her as Mac and not only as President Allen. But she hadn't been able to truly enjoy the party, enjoy the conversations with her friends. The deaths of these young Americans, along with the hostages who'd been killed and all who had been wounded, weighed heavily on her mind and on her heart.

These phone calls especially weighed heavily on her. Mac picked up the telephone and made the first two calls. Afterwards, she put down the phone to gather her composure. Those calls were incredibly hard. But this one–to Diego Ortez's family–would be the most difficult. After a minute or two, she took a deep breath, again picked up the phone and dialed the corresponding number. When a little voice answered, she asked to speak with Diego's mother.

"Mrs. Ortez, this is President Allen. I wanted to express my sorrow at the loss of your son... I know that there's little I could say to ease your pain. But I hope that there's some comfort in knowing that he gave his life saving many, many American lives... And his country will always be grateful for that and to you for the sacrifice you have given... Thank you for speaking with me and please convey my appreciation and condolences to the rest of Diego's family and loved ones... If I can ever be of assistance to you, please don't hesitate to call me... Goodnight, Mrs. Ortez."

Mac hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair. After a moment, however, she felt claustrophobic–like the office walls were closing in on her, like a vice was pressing on her soul. Standing, she walked out of the Oval and onto the little patio that was just outside. The pleasant, but cool, night air was just what she needed. She leaned against one of the columns and stared out into the darkness. She should get back to the party. But she just wasn't ready. She wasn't in the mood to party or even to converse. All she felt was sorrow, grief and ultimate responsibility. It was her fault that so many were suffering tonight. How could she then really celebrate under these conditions?

Rod had given his wife twenty minutes before following her down to the office. As he walked along the colonnade, he saw Mackenzie leaning against one of the columns, staring out across the South Lawn. She was deep in thought and didn't notice his approach. "Hey kiddo," he told her softly, putting an arm lightly around her shoulder and giving her a little squeeze.

Hearing his familiar voice and feeling his loving touch, she turned around and threw both of her arms around his neck in a fierce hug. She needed his strength. She'd been President for almost a year and had seen and experienced a great deal. But she'd never experienced anything close to this... never felt the burden of her Office like she did tonight. Her order today had directly led to the death of American service men.

Rod was initially surprised by her response. Usually she kept her emotions well in check. However, he knew what she'd just done and understood what she was feeling. She was the love of his life. They'd been together for more than twenty years. He was intimately acquainted with her soul–with her essence–and he knew what this was costing her. He could feel the tension and torment that racked her body. He was powerless to fix it, to ease her pain, to lighten her burden. All he could do was hold her tight and show her that she wasn't alone... remind her that she was never alone because he would always be at her side. He tightened his hold on her.

He felt her begin to shudder and quietly sob. He knew how important it was for her to be perceived as strong, to be seen as perfect; and that she hated to cry and to put her deepest feelings and emotions on display for all to see. He didn't know how long they stood like this, holding on to one another. But eventually he felt some of the tension leave and her body calm. He stepped back and looked her in the eye. Gently he brushed away the tears that had escaped. "I'm sorry, honey."

Mackenzie nodded and bent her head forward. Rod, of course, did the same until their foreheads touched. It was their symbol of unity and it always brought them a measure of peace. And peace, he thought, was something that was in too short of supply in the world.

Pulling away, she said, "Rod, it was awful..."

Sensing that she needed to talk, he took her by the hand and led her into the night. As he did, he looked at the agent standing post by her office door. "Give us a little space, would you? We won't be far. Just down by the putting green."

"Yes, sir."

The two walked down the pathway from the West Wing to the white bench at the base of the big Oak tree on the northwest corner of the South Lawn. Rod took off his jacket and draped it over the back of the bench. When they were seated, he brushed away the hair that had fallen across Mackenzie's face. "How can I help?"

"You can't. That's just it. Nobody can," she sighed. "I did it. It's my responsibility. Nobody else's."

"Honey, you had a decision to make–a very tough call," he put a hand on her knee. "You made the best decision you could. And if tomorrow you were presented with the same choice and the same circumstances, you'd make the same decision. You know that."

"You're right... I know, you're right. But I hate this, Rod. I really hate it. He was just a baby... and I sent him to his death. Me... I did it. I made the order."

"Ortez? The young guy close in age to Horace?"

"Yeah... talking to his mother, I felt like such a hypocrite and so guilty. I kept thinking about how I would feel if I'd been the one receiving the call. I would want to hate me... hate my title, hate everything about what I do and who I am."

He reached up and caressed her shoulder. "I know."

"You don't know, Rod. You can't know. You've never had to actually send our children into harm's way." Mac stood and walked onto the putting green, folding her arms tightly to her chest, and again staring into the darkness.

Rod followed her and from behind, wrapped his arms even tighter around her. He was relieved when he felt her relax a little and lean her head back against him. Softly he told her, "You're right. I can't know what you're going through and what you're feeling. Nobody can–except for maybe the few who've gone before you. But I know you better than anyone. And honey, there's no one–and I mean no one–I'd rather have making those decisions than you."

She turned in his arms and again hugged him as if he were a lifeline. "Just hold me."

Rod couldn't help but smile a little. "Always." He could live without a formal job, and he could put up with all of the jokes and teasing, so long as she needed him–really needed him. "I will always hold you and love you and be here for you... for as long as I live."

She pulled back a little and met his gaze. She'd heard the depth of his feelings in his voice and now she saw it in his eyes. After more than twenty years, it was still a miracle to her that he felt this way–that she truly was at the center of his world. He was also her rock, her anchor. And even when she was at her worst, he patiently stood by her and next to her and behind her. "I can't tell you how much I count on that. I know I don't say the words as often as I should, but you are the love of my life... and without you I'd be lost."

He bent his head at the same time as she raised hers. When their lips met it was as if every emotion of the day, the joy and the sorrow, the highs and the lows, came together at once in an explosion of passion and need. Eventually, Rod broke their rhythm. It was that, he thought, or put on a show for the Secret Service. Still holding his wife in his arms, he asked gently with a slight tilt of his head, "Feeling any better?"

"A little... I just don't know if I can do this again."

"You will do what needs to be done... what your Office requires. You will get some decisions right and you will make mistakes. But you will not run away. You will make the best choices possible and then you will live with the consequences."

Mac nodded, knowing he was right... but knowing didn't make it any easier.

Rod read the uncertainty behind her look of determination. "Mackenzie, do you know why there's no one I trust more than you to make these decisions?"

"Because you're blinded by love?"

"I am blinded by love, but that has nothing to do with it," he responded with his usual big grin.

However, then he turned quite serious. "Mac, it's because making these decisions will never be easy for you. You will never take your role as Commander in Chief lightly. You are a wife. You are a mother. You know what it's like to nurture and carry a child and to bring that child into this world. You understand the cost. You understand how fragile and how precious life is. You are strong and you are wise. And you have more courage, compassion and love in your heart than a thousand men." He paused momentarily. Then with a little mischief in his eyes, he added, "And all of that is true even when you're stubborn and bossy and kind of 'a know it all.'"

She hit him in the chest, but also tilted her head and smiled.

It was a warm smile he could feel even through the darkness.

Mac reached up and caressed his face. "Thank you..."

He bent his head and again kissed her, only this time with exquisite tenderness. "Now, Madame, are you ready to leave your president hat in the Oval Office and put on your birthday hat instead?"

"I am, Mr. Calloway." Knowing that he really did understand, and that she wasn't alone, somehow made everything bearable.

"Good," he said retrieving his jacket from the bench and placing it around her shoulders. "Because there are a lot of people upstairs who are anxious to catch up with Mackenzie Spencer Allen Calloway. And I think she needs to catch up with them, too."

And with that, President and First Gentleman, husband and wife, friend and lover, walked arm in arm into the Residence through the Diplomatic Reception Room and back upstairs where everyone was waiting for them, pausing only briefly to make a few facial repairs in the ground floor bathroom along the way.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As they rejoined the party, Mac was relieved to find that no one had really noticed their absence. She still felt the burden of the day but it somehow seemed lighter and definitely less consuming. Though she continued to feel guilty about celebrating when so many others were tonight grieving, she put on a happy face–particularly when a huge cake was wheeled in and everyone in the room sang Happy Birthday to her loudly and off-key. Looking around at her friends and her family, she had to admit that it was nice to be surrounded by such love and support–especially tonight.

Not long after the singing and the disbursement of the cake, the party began to die down. All three kids had fled to their rooms just as quickly as they'd been allowed; and even Kate had disappeared. Soon Rod and Mac were left chatting only with Tony and Mary Prado, Carl and Sue Brantley, and a few of Mac's oldest girlfriends who were spending the night at the White House.

While they were talking, Carl noticed the look of concern in Rod's eyes and just how closely he was watching his wife. Catching his eye with a nod of understanding, Carl approached Mac and put his arm around her shoulder. "Ready for a recap of Mac Allen's greatest hits?" He, too, knew the kind of day she'd had and he hoped reminiscing about simpler days would help ease her burden and allow her to unwind. Besides, it's tradition, he thought... and she was long overdue.

She turned to him with a sweet smile. "Be kind, old friend, your birthday isn't that far off you know. I might be a year older, but my memory isn't."

"Bring it on... because all of my dirty laundry has already been aired thanks to the confirmation hell you put me through." Carl moved to the middle of the room and announced, "Alright everyone, gather around. It's time we discussed the many adventures of Mackenzie Allen before she found respectability."

Immediately understanding what Carl had in mind Rod suggested, "Why don't we move into the Yellow Oval Room where it's more comfortable." The Yellow Oval Room sits in the center of the second floor and leads to the Truman Balcony. He thought the group, especially Mac's girlfriends who were here for the first time, might enjoy the spectacular views of the Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial... and he hoped it would help his wife truly relax and enjoy herself.

The group readily followed Rod and once they were all present and accounted for, Tony and Carl led Mac to an overstuffed chair. "You have to be comfortable for what's to come," Tony told her with a smile.

Mac shook her head, slightly embarrassed. She knew precisely what was to come. It was a tradition that dated back to their college and law school days. Whenever they were all together for someone's birthday, the one having the birthday typically ended up the butt of many jokes and humiliating stories. In the past, she'd usually made sure to be otherwise occupied when her birthday came around. However tonight, it appeared her time had come. Nevertheless, she raised her eyebrow at her Attorney General and National Security Advisor. "Just remember who it is you both work for."

"We may serve at the pleasure of the President," Carl responded wryly as he and Tony found seats next to their wives, "but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun with her, too."

Rod filled the vacancy left by the two men and perched himself on the arm of Mac's chair, draping an arm around the back of it, and gently beginning to knead the muscles in her neck. Briefly their eyes met and he was pleased to receive an intimate look of appreciation.

Soon everyone relaxed and the stories flowed. Lisa, who was one of Mac's closest friends began sharing what they would do on boring afternoons when they were home from college.

"Mackenzie has always loved fooling people for laughs. One time after seeing Mystic we stood outside of the train station in New York pretending we were tour guides. Mac had this great idea of telling all the tourists that we were actually in the movie as extras and that Julia Robert's had bought us a pizza... " Lisa laughed. " She had these people so convinced, they even asked us for autographs. Or we'd pretend to be clueless tourists ourselves from somewhere in Iowa... or Utah, who were very afraid of the big, dirty city and worried that we would be murdered in the subway or kidnapped by a cab driver."

"It kept us busy didn't it? It was either that or sit home on the deck with binoculars and see what Carl was up to in his bedroom... which usually wasn't too much," Mac responded with a straight face aimed directly at her oldest friend.

"Now that is untrue. Plenty went on up there. I just think your memory is slipping... or maybe you just weren't invited."

Mac rolled her eyes. "Right how could I forget, Friday night movie night... yeah, we were wild."

"But all that changed during our trip to Europe," Sue said giving Mac a knowing look.

Tony laughed, "I still have the pictures of you two stomping grapes at that vineyard in Italy."

Mac and Sue both cracked up. "I was Lucy and Sue was Ethel. We wore white peasant skirts and blouses with colored bandana's on our head and we sang Madonna songs as we stomped the grapes in this huge tub. It was our own version of I love Lucy."

Sue laughed. "Yeah, and during our rendition of Vogue, Mac slipped and ended up flat on her face from striking a pose. She had a huge purple stain from head to toe and grape juice running down her legs."

"As I recall," Carl added, "her face and legs were stained for days. It looked like some horrendous birth mark."

At this point, imagining just how ridiculous she must have looked, Rod could no longer contain his laughter. "Tony, I've got to get a copy of that photo. We may want to someday include it in the Mackenzie Allen Presidential Library or in the mean time we could just hang it over the fireplace." He gestured back over his shoulder to the fireplace that sat in the center of the room.

"Perfect... I'll blow it up for you to I don't know, say 24 by 36 inches. Or even better, it would make a fantastic campaign poster," Tony joked back.

"That is so not going to happen," Mac quickly spoke up. "That picture should be burned. If the kids ever saw that I would never live it down."

"It's not the kids you should be worried about," Carl said dryly, "it's Templeton."

"Oh god," Mac groaned.

"What you really should be concerned about is whether there are any photos of you skinny dipping during our spring break in Cancun," added Anne, another one of her college friends. "Oh, the crazy things we used to do after a few beers... or in Mac's case after a single shot of Tequila."

"Alright," Carl interrupted looking at his watch, "this is more than I want to know about my boss... besides as the country's leading law enforcement officer, I require deniability and a full night's sleep." He got up, and knowing that Sue would be spending the night with the girls, he told her with a kiss, "Have fun. I'll see you in the morning."

Carl shook Rod's hand before giving Mac a kiss on the cheek. " Happy Birthday, sport."

She smiled at him thankfully.

"We're going to head out too, before the hitch hiking in Spain stories begin and I get in real trouble," Tony said as he and Mary, too, prepared to leave.

Mac stood up and, as she gave Tony a hug, jokingly said, "You just had to bring up Spain didn't you. Now I'm going to have to suffer through Rod's terrible Ricky Ricardo imitation, 'Lucy… you got some explainin' to do.'"

Everyone laughed at her own terrible impersonation.

"Well, if you're going to be telling tales, Madame President, don't forget about the topless beaches on the French Riviera," Tony whispered loud enough for Rod to hear.

Mac groaned while Rod raised an eyebrow. "Now that sounds like my kind of story. Honey, can I get you to stage a re-enactment later tonight?"

Mac reddened and momentarily covered her face with a hand. Then she looked back at her National Security Advisor and instructed in a very presidential tone, "Tony, I expect you in your office tomorrow no later than six a.m."

"But it's Saturday."

"Exactly."

Tony, too, groaned. "Does Carl get to come, too?" he asked hopefully.

"No, I'm giving him a reprieve until seven," the President responded dryly as she looked in the direction of her Attorney General, who simply winked at her in return.

"Can I get a little help here?" Tony asked Rod as he patted him on the back.

Rod grinned. "Don't worry, Tony. I know just how to distract her," he responded as he appraised his wife with a lingering glance.

Tony smiled. "Good news, Mary," he said, turning his full attention to his own wife, "I think I've just been given a day off."

"Be careful, Tony... or I might just change my mind," Mac told him as she again sat down.

Tony bowed. "Good night, Madame President and Happy Birthday."

"I'll walk you all out." But before Rod joined their three friends, he leaned down and whispered in his wife's ear, "You have no more than an hour to hang out here, then you have an appointment in our bedroom birthday girl. I still haven't given you my gift." He was rewarded with a definite gleam in her eye. He gave her a wink and then followed behind the Prados and Carl.

After Rod left, the four women really began to visit in earnest, catching up with each other and their respective careers and kids. None of them could get over the fact that one of them had really become the President of the United States. Even Mac agreed that it all seemed surreal.

After approximately an hour, Mac excused herself. She urged her three friends to make themselves at home and promised that she would see them at breakfast.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

When she walked into their bedroom, Mackenzie found it lit only by subtly scented candles. There were also rose pedals everywhere and music played softly in the background. "Rod?"

"Hey," he responded huskily, coming out of their bathroom and walking towards her.

Mac first noticed the cocky grin he sported... and then she saw why. He was wearing black silk shorts covered with little pairs of red lips and a T-shirt which read: "I serve only at the pleasure of the President of the United States." She smiled broadly and allowed herself to conduct her own lingering appraisal. As she did so, her desire for him rapidly began to overwhelm her. This goofy, sweet, playful–but very sexy, side of her husband had, from the day they'd met, always been her undoing.

"Maybe," she told him as he placed his hands around her waist, "I should order everyone in the Administration to wear that shirt."

"No ma'am," he said closing the remaining distance between them, "this is strictly a one of a kind item... and only for very special occasions." He bent his head and began to place feather light kisses on her throat and neck. He heard her sigh and felt her body begin to respond. "Now, how about staging that topless re-enactment for me... or better yet, how about a skinny dipping demonstration."

He didn't wait for a response, but very slowly he began to undress her. She made a move to do the same to him, but he stopped her. "All in good time, Madame... all in good time." A short time later, he finished his task and visually inspected the results. She still took his breath away and he was powerless to take his eyes off of her.

Seeing as how she was now naked and he was still fully clothed, Mac said, "I think you've got me at a definite disadvantage, Mr. Calloway."

"That's the idea, Madame President." He smiled and led her to the oversized sunken whirlpool tub. Mac noticed the bathroom, too, was lit only by candles. There was a vase of roses and a bottle of champagne chilling in ice on the edge of the tub.

Once she was settled in the tub, Rod opened and poured the champagne, handed her a glass, and in a toast said, "Here's to you and your disadvantage. Although, perhaps after what I learned tonight, I should have just given you a little Tequila instead." He laughed when he saw the look she gave him in return. It was a look he knew well. A look which said clearly, "you don't really expect me to dignify that with a response, do you?"

He put down his own glass and leaned over the tub until his face was within inches of hers. "Happy Birthday, Mackenzie." He ran one hand through her hair and kissed her, gently at first but then with increasing hunger and fervor until he heard an audible moan escape her lips.

"Are you going to join me?" she asked breathlessly.

"No," he teased, "I thought I'd just sit here and enjoy the view." Within fifteen seconds, however, he had shed his own clothes and was seated behind her, again kissing her neck and doing all kinds of pleasurable things with his hands.

Mac leaned back against him and sighed. What a perfect gift, she thought. "I can't remember the last time we did this."

"Oh... I can remember a night when you were the VP and all the kids were gone and the power was out."

"Oh yeah..." she remembered fondly. "But before the kids we used to do this all the time."

"Ah... the good old days," Rod said wistfully.

Mac turned in his arms so that she could really see his face. "They've all been pretty good."

"Honey, except for the very few days when we've really been fighting, they've been great. We've been very blessed."

"Yeah... we have," she said with a nod, still studying his face. She knew he meant what he told her about them being good together, but she also saw something painful lurking deep in his always expressive eyes. "You're thinking about the week of the State of the Union, aren't you?"

He didn't say anything.

"That was completely my fault, you know... not yours. You did nothing wrong..."

"Honey," he interrupted passionately, "don't. It's over."

"Yeah, but I see the hesitance sometimes in your eyes, hear it in your voice. I hate myself for that... and for taking everything out on you." She looked down, still embarrassed over the way she'd treated him.

"Mac, look at me." He gently lifted her chin up towards him. "I'm okay. I'm glad you use me as an outlet. It lets me know you need me. Now granted, I prefer loving to fighting... but I've got big shoulders, I can take either."

She looked at him with thanks and understanding, a small smile on her lips.

"Mackenzie, I won't lie to you. This year's been a hard one for me... for us. So many adjustments and not much time and space to process them all. But honey, we're still here... still together... still in love. And that is all that really matters."

Mac caressed her husband's cheek. With her eyes she conveyed to him all that he meant to her. Then without uttering a word, she reached up and pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss, just as she'd done the night she'd asked him to stay with her instead of taking the job in New York.

Rod responded to her heated embrace whole heartedly and their passions were once again ignited.

Trying desperately not to break the moment, Mac attempted to position herself to better access him. But it proved to be much more difficult than she'd anticipated.

Watching her struggle, a small chuckle of amusement escaped from Rod. "Need some help honey?" he joked, with a sexy grin playing across his lips.

Mac laughed. "This just isn't as easy as I remember."

"Oh... I think we can still pull it off." Rod kissed her again, shifting his position and ultimately encountering the same difficulties as his wife. He tried moving in every angle he could think of before finally giving up with a sigh. And with the most serious of expressions on his face, but a playful tone in his voice, he said, "I think we're getting too old for this, kiddo."

Mac laughed and while running her fingers through his hair, told him seductively, "Rod, we'll never be too old." She shook her head slightly. "We just might have to be more creative." A huge grin formed on her lips as her gaze met his, her eyes full of desire.

Rod returned her grin and her urges. He spoke in an equally seductive tone, "What do you say we go get creative in bed? No reason we can't celebrate there, too."

Mac nodded anxiously. "Let's go."

Stepping out of the tub their playfulness soon turned into the most sensual act they had experienced together in a very long time. Rod helped his wife dry herself as she did the same for him. Allowing their hands and lips to linger on their most sensitive areas and never for very long allowing their kisses to cease, they continued this foreplay all they way into the bedroom. And by the time they hit their bed, they were both completely lost in each other and overcome by desire.

A few minutes later, however, Mac broke from their love making, causing Rod to groan in protest. "Rod wait, did you lock the door?"

He stopped kissing her neck and looked up, momentarily not processing why she would stop to ask.

"We haven't exactly had the best luck lately of uninterrupted intimacy, remember?"

Rod placed a kiss on her lips. "Oh... I took care of that small problem. We won't be interrupted tonight unless it's a serious emergency."

"How exactly did you take care of it?" she asked, amused at the lengths he would go to make this night both unforgettable and flawless in its execution.

He propped himself on his elbow beside her and with his free hand lightly explored the contours of her body. "Well, Amy is having a sleep-over with Rebecca. Trust me, if she wakes up anyone tonight it won't be us."

The sensation from his hands on her made it difficult to think rationally but she was able to muster a quiet, "And just how did you manage that?"

He grinned, seeing the effect he was having on her. "I told her that in return we would let her go on that weekend trip with Stacy and her parents."

Mac grinned. "But we were going to let her go anyway."

"Uh huh, but she didn't know that."

"And they say politicians are devious."

"I learned from the best, Madame... only the best. Now are you really complaining, Mrs. Calloway?"

Mac tilted her head teasingly, "Only about the fact that you aren't kissing me."

Rod smiled at his wife and again joined his lips with hers, pausing only to say, "Happy Birthday, Madame President."

That night, almost for the first time since they'd moved into the White House, there were no interruptions and they were finally allowed to truly finish what they'd started, making it a very memorable birthday celebration indeed.