"This has got to be a dream."

The President lay back on the couch, covering her face with a throw pillow.

"Sorry to tell you, Madame President, but this is terrifyingly real," said Tierney, sitting across from her with her feet up on the coffee table.

"I told you not to do that," she said into the pillow, then looked at Tierney, who was dropping her feet to the floor. "Not your feet," the President laughed, "the Madame President stuff. You've been with me since my first run for senator a decade ago. When there's no one around, I need to know that you're being real with me, to keep me grounded."

"Okay, Nelle," said Tierney with a smile, "in fifteen minutes you will become the first human to meet face to face with an alien. For real."

Nelle sat up, all humor gone, gazing at Tierney. "You're right. Enough indulging my disbelief. I can't meet this commander with a straight face if I'm thinking the whole time that I'm living in a movie." She sighed and began pacing barefoot around the Oval Office, twirling strands of her long blond hair in her fingers.

"Garner had everyone at NASA check and recheck the transmission," she continued, "and he swears it's originating from space. He also said the data they sent us uses formulas so advanced it would take their team at least a year just to understand what they say, let alone how to use them"

"Even with all the possible doomsday scenarios floating around," said Tierney, "it barely took five minutes for half the globe to open those files and post them on social media."

"What's your impression of the Relicans?" asked Nelle.

"Militaristic, shockingly human in both appearance and manner."

"And the commander?"

Tierney made a sound of disgust before rattling off all the warning signs she'd read in Commander Corwin. "Young -- he can't be older than thirty, domineering, blunt, hot tempered, dismissive..."

"Your kind of guy, huh?" Nelle joked, slowly circling back behind the couch and heading to her desk.

Tierney shot her a reproachful look. "I'm surprised whoever's in charge let him do first contact at all."

"Maybe he is in charge."

"Well he seems completely ill-equipped for the job. That first video they sent was of someone else entirely. At least he was polite." She thought back on the message that had somehow been broadcast across all video screens in the White House -- even cell phones.

A man, similar to Commander Corwin but with light gold skin, white hair, and a kinder face, said, "Leaders of this planet, your species is in danger. The Relicans request a conference with your people. In one hour all communication frequencies will be utilized for our conference, to ensure the entirety of your population is aware of the imminent danger as well as the certainty of being rescued. We are here to facilitate your culture's continuation. We look forward to meeting you."

Of course no one had taken the message itself seriously, with everyone far more worried about the actual hacking of their supposedly secure screens. Their cybersecurity team had just begun to analyze the event when calls started pouring in from every other government, all saying they had received the same message. Only after satellite monitoring systems began detecting the unidentified object orbiting just a hundred miles or so past the International Space Station did anyone seriously start to consider the possibility that the message was genuine.

Her phone began beeping, startling them both out of their thoughts. "Ten minutes," said Tierney, turning off her alarm.

"Okay," said Nelle, standing behind her desk and looking out the window at the White House lawns. "I need my prep time. I'll meet you on the lawn."

Tierney's stomach leapt, and she couldn't help a smile. "I'm going with you?" Despite being the President's most trusted advisor, not to mention her closest friend in the den of wolves that was Washington, Tierney had imagined this historic meeting happening behind doors that were closed even to her.

Nelle came and sat beside her, wearing a soft smile. "I can't imagine having anyone else in that meeting with me." She gripped Tierney's hand tightly in her own. "The future of the human race rests in my hands. I can't do this alone. I need a second opinion I can trust."

Tierney felt the weight of the moment on her shoulders, and all the dour predictions that had been circulating since the first message suddenly flooded her mind. Would the aliens shoot them on sight and take over the planet? Would she and Nelle be the first to be enslaved by this militaristic race? Even if they did make it through alive and still free, what if at the last minute she said or did the wrong thing? What if she brought about the destruction of her race by doing something as seemingly innocuous as meeting their eyes or shaking their hand?

The President must have sensed her unease, because she leaned back a bit, studying Tierney's expression. "Unless you don't want to be there," she said. "It's a lot of pressure to be responsible for the wellbeing of an entire people. I can understand if you don't want that on you."

Tierney stared at the woman who had become her mentor, friend, colleague, and sister all in one. Only fifteen years older than her, Nelle was the strongest, smartest, and noblest woman Tierney had ever met. She had risen above the ignorance and hatred that still infected her country to shatter the glass ceiling for women and gay people alike. Through all of the rigors of the campaign, through all the slurs and the lies that trailed her, never had she stooped to their level. Never had she lost her purpose or her resilience. If anyone could lead the human race through this crisis, it was her.

And there's no way I'm going to miss out on this, Tierney thought.

"And let you have all the fun?" she said. Leaning forward, she gave the President a long hug. "I'm honored to stand by your side, as always."

Rising from the couch, she said, "Well, if I'm going to meet the commander of the Relican fleet in person, I need to freshen up." Slipping her heels back on, she stepped out of the Oval Office and headed for the bathroom.

The halls were unusually empty -- everyone was in their offices either scrambling to learn as much as they could about the Relicans, or doing what they could to manage the public's terror.

Well, almost everyone.

"What were you two doing in there?" a taunting voice asked.

"Hello, Jonas," Tierney said with a sigh.

Despite her brisk pace, the Vice President's Chief of Staff fell in step beside her. Whenever Tierney and the President had a meeting alone behind closed doors, he was always nearby. She swore he tried to listen through the doors.

"With armageddon looming," he said, eyeing her up and down, "it must have gotten pretty hot and steamy in there."

Tierney knew better than to take the bait, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Should I send housekeeping in? I know you girls can make an awful mess. You, in particular."

Swallowing her disgust, she allowed herself a glare in his direction.

"What?" he said in mock jest. "You didn't think I remembered?" His eyes darkened as he added, "Our time together was too memorable to forget."

"That was five years ago," she snapped.

"And here we are, at the end of the world." His voice was low, husky. The same voice that had made her shiver with pleasure when they were together. Now it made her nauseous.

She turned to open the door to the bathroom, but Jonas grabbed the knob first, his hand hot on hers, blocking her way.

"What if this is it?" he whispered, leaning in. Instinctively she tried to pull back. Jonas pressed his other hand against the wall by her head, closing her in. "Do you really want your last lay to be the President's fist?"

Tierney stared at his looming face. He'd hardly changed since she met him ten years ago at a campaign rally. He had been married at the time, and working for the Vice President back when he was still just a State Representative. Only eighteen years old, new to the world of politics, and intimidated by the massive crowds, Tierney had been trying to make herself invisible when Jonas appeared. She'd been instantly infatuated by the 27-year-old who seemed so mature and worldly to her. His classic American good looks -- blond hair and chiseled jawline -- didn't hurt either.

Apparently she made an impression on him as well, and when he got divorced -- actually, he'd still been in the middle of the legalities -- he contacted her. Her crush had been simmering during the years in between, and when he told her that he'd been fantasizing about her since then too, she actually took that as a sign that they were meant to be and jumped into his bed far too soon.

Of course it didn't take long to see the scumbag underneath, and before six months was over their hot, passionate fling was over. Ignoring her claims that he was a thoughtless, selfish, misogynist creep, he instead latched on to her passing comment that she was too busy with work for a relationship, since Nelle was preparing for her Presidential campaign. Jonas, being the ass that he was, took that to mean she was leaving him for her gay boss, despite the fact that Nelle had been happily married at the time. Since then, he had been obsessed with the notion of the two women being together, always finding ways of slipping derogatory and lewd remarks in her ear without anyone else hearing. Tierney had long since given up trying to convince him that their relationship was purely platonic.

Now, here he was, horrible and handsome as ever, trying to get in one last screw before the world ended.

Tierney considered kneeing him in the groin, but then came up with a better plan. Giving him a sultry smile and her best doe eyes, she pulled her hand out from under his and tugged on his tie.

"Maybe you're right," she whispered. "I have been feeling like something's... missing..." Slowly she slid her other hand down her dress, from just below her chest to the inside of her thigh. "Down here."

Jonas's eyes hungrily followed her hand, but then he looked back up at her with suspicion. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his face and pulled his lips to hers.

"I don't have much time," she said between kisses, hoping this wouldn't get out of hand. Memories of their time together were flooding back with every grope, and the more she remembered, the more sick to her stomach she became. "I need to be on the lawn in less than ten minutes."

"Me too," he said through clenched teeth -- that had always been a dead giveaway that he was horny. Slamming his body into hers, he rocked his hips, digging his erection into her. "But that's more than enough time." Breathless, he kissed her again, grabbing her breasts.

Visualizing the payoff she hoped this facade would bring, Tierney fumbled for the bathroom door and opened it, backing inside and taking Jonas with her. His hands were already fumbling with his pants, and they were unbuttoned and unzipped before the door was closed. As he pawed at her, trying to get beneath her dress, she slowly spun him around so he was between her and the toilet.

"I knew you wanted more," he said, digging his hands into her hair and pulling out enough bobby pins for it to come tumbling down. The triumph in his eyes made her want to spit in his face. He twisted her hair around his fist and jerked back, craning her head back and forcing her eyes to meet his. "That bitch can't make you scream like I can."

One more second... she thought. A little farther back...

"If we weren't in such a crunch," he said, running his hand down her neck and under dress, cupping and squeezing her breast, "I'd invite Madame Lesident to join us. I bet I could make her switch teams."

With one final nudge of her body pushing against his, she felt him bump up against the toilet.

Now!

Quickly she leaned down and lifted both seats of the toilet up.

"Hey, what --" he began, but she cut him off with a shoulder check to the gut, forcing him off balance. Just as she had envisioned, he fell backwards, his ass landing in the toilet bowl with a satisfying splash.

What she hadn't accounted for, however, was that his fist was still tangled in her waist-length hair. She fell with him, landing on the floor beside the toilet, falling victim to her own prank by getting a hefty splash of water on the side of her dress.

"What the fuck!" Jonas cried, his erection still bulging beneath his baby blue briefs.

Wrenching her hair out of his grasp, she scrambled up and scurried to the door, taking only a moment to relish the sight of him, his arms and legs flailing as he struggled to get out. His pants, though undone, had remained up, as she'd hoped they would, so even when he did get out, they would be sopping wet.

Even if this was humanity's last day, she could now die happy knowing Jonas would spend it looking like he shit himself.