When Amelia woke up, she was in a large van. She felt the world shift crazily around her as her senses began to clear up. Her stomach was empty, leading her to believe it had been at last a few hours since her date with Ivan. Her wrist were bound together with some silk ribbon, as if the people who were snatching her did not wish her harm. Her legs were free, as well as her mouth. So, it was clear this was not all she thought it was.

She tried to pry her eyes open, but she still felt a tiny bit too weak. She simply groaned and shifted around, showing these people that she was gaining consciousness. There was not a single noise coming from anyone, they just let her adjust herself. Odd, but not unheard of. Of all the times she's been kidnapped, they were never this easy.

She once again attempted to pry her eyes open, this time being slightly successful. Her vision was blurry, but everything was clearing up. When her eyes finally adjusted themselves, she noticed two men in black suits sitting in the driver and passenger seats of the van. She gruffly flopped her face down on the floor of the fan.

Of-motherfucking-course it was my boss!

She successfully hoisted herself onto her butt on the first try, sitting with her legs crisscrossed. She was still in her outfit from her date, which lended her some warmth and comfort. Amelia felt her face grow warm as air blasted in her face.

"Is that warm enough for you, Miss. Amelia?" the agent in the passenger seat asked.

"Yes, thank you," the man nodded curtly as the driver fixed his glasses, "so, is there something boss wants that I have to be tied up," the agent in the passenger seat unbuckled and knelt beside her.

"You know why we do this, Miss. Amelia. Ever since you broke Agent Howel's nose and cracked three of Agent Dixon's ribs, we restrain your hands to make sure you do not punch anybody in a panic," he unknotted the final piece of silk, allowing Amelia's hands freedom.

"Ya know, I haven't heard from either of them in a while. I hope they're doing alright,"

"They are both doing fine, Dixon's wife just gave birth to twins and Howel is currently honeymooning in Paris," Amelia talked with the agent for a while before the van stopped.

"We're here, Parkson, escourt Amelia to the Oval Office," the driving agent commanded. Parkson nodded and helped Amelia from the van. The two began to roam the hallway when a group of tourists came by.

"Oooo~ I didn't know there was a tour scheduled for today!" Amelia bounced happily. Parkson smiled softly, knowing exactly what Amelia was going to do.

"Go, but make it quick," Parkson chuckled as he watched Amelia squeal and run off towards the guest. Another agent snickered into his knuckles.

"Gotta love her," this other agent spoke monotoned, but you could tell he was happy. Amelia approached the group and noticed it was a bunch of young kids with three adults.

"Well, this looks like a school trip to me!" Amelia shouted enthusiastically. The three adults were taken aback by her smile.

"Oh, we were told there weren't any tour guides," the woman spoke. The two men beside her nodded in unison.

"Oh, I ain't a tour guide, hun. I'm a historian and know every inch of this place, I can tell you stories for days. Like this room right here is called the East Room. Designed by James Hoban, this is where a majority of public activities will occur. This room has hosted hundreds of press conferences, weddings, galas, funerals, basically anything having to do with large gathering crowds,"

The kids all ooed and awwed, making Amelia giggle. A little girl tugged her pantleg, she was wearing a gray shirt with a ghost on it with black leggings.

"Can you tell me if there are any ghost?" the woman ran up to Amelia and gently took the girl.

"Paisley, that is not an appropriate question!"

"On the contrary Ms, it is a very good question. Many presidents have been seen since their demise in these halls, such as Abraham Lincoln, who was the first president to be assassinated. His son, Willie, has also been rumored to wander the halls. There are even a few unnamed ghost, such a British soldier holding a torch. He is assumed to have been killed in the burning of DC in 1814,"

"Tell us more, miss!" the children and adults gathered around.

"Hm, well, there is also an unknown boy who roams the halls. He was deemed 'the Thing' by President Taft, nobody knows who he is or why is here,"

Except for me

"I didn't know the White House was so spooky!" one of the young boys yelped.

"Well, that's not all. If you guys happen to see a fluffy white cat, you must tell one of the guards immediately! I named it Marshmellow, but I don't know if it actually has a name. You see, Marshmellow has been seen right before a lot of disasters happen! It was seen the night before Lincoln and Kennedy were killed and was also seen the in week prior to 9/11. So, if you see a white cat, it means something bad will happen. You must be honest when telling us if you see it though, as it does ONLY appear if something truly bad is going to happen,"

The little girl priorly named Paisley looked towards a guard.

"You mean like that!" she pointed. Parkson, Amelia, and the whole group looked to see the white fluffy cat perched by an end table. It meowed at Amelia and suddenly vanished, making all of the people turn white. Parkson took Amelia's hand and guided her away as the crowd of children began to cry. A few other agents tried their best to settle the group as Amelia was led away.

"Parkson, I want you to spread work to all departments. Emergency routine checks, everyone and everything: airports, seaports, the border points, and any flights heading into US airspace are to be searched excessively, but casually. We do not want to ring any alarms unless we know what is going to happen.

"Yes, Miss," Parkson went off as Amelia entered the Oval Office. The pumpkin himself sat at his desk, holding a manilla folder in his hands.

"Come sit, Amelia," Amelia did so, "how was the trip? Good I assume?"

"It was fine sir, but I am a bit-"

"Nevermind what you are, I needed to talk to you about what you have been doing,"

"Sir, I'm not quite sure what you mean," Amelia quirked her brow. Trump chuckled and opened the folder, photos flying out of it.

"You've been discussing things with other nations! That maid was meant to find out what you were up to, and look at all she found! All the nations were at your house! You even hosted a meeting behind my back! For what?!"

"Sir, I simply wanted to-"

"Do not interrupt me!" Amelia shut up, "look at all this! You invited everyone! Even that bastard China and all those terrorists! You even had the audacity to talk to Afghanistan after the whole building went down on you and accept his help!"

"Would you have rather me stayed injured and left him to die?!"

"It would have been one less nation to worry about!"

"SIR!!!"

"You want to know the best thing about this?! Is that you didn't even stop at having meetings!!!" Trump slammed another folder down, a few photos slipping out. Amelia looked at them and her eyes widened.

"Sir, where did you get these?"

"It doesn't matter, I just got them!"

"I can-"

"You went on a date with Russia! Of any nation, you had to pick that vodka chugging, big dicked, communist asshole!"

"Sir, Russia isn't communist!"

"He was!!! That's the point!!! What if he was trying to get information for his boss?! Or are you just a filthy, touch-deprived whore?! Is that it?! You're just a whore who needs to feel loved or wanted because nobody else is willing to be around her disgusting body?!"

"Sir, please don't call my those things!"

"Don't call you what things? A filthy whore? Well, how about I call you other things! Like a pathetic tramp! A useless hooker!"

"Boss! Stop!!!"

"Why?! I'm telling you what you are Amelia! You are nothing but a revolting, nasty, hideous, worthless slut!!!"

Amelia snapped and her mind went blank. She stood up and bitched slapped Trump across the face, leaving a stinging red handprint. She was panting with anger and her face was red, clumps of tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"How DARE you call me a slut! I have never slept with anyone in my life! Just because I want someone around does not make me a hussy! If either of us is going to be called a whore, it's you! You've slept with roughly twelve women, and those are the ones who came out about ever being with you! Who knows how many you fucked under the table or one night stands! For Gods sake, you have had THREE wives!!! So do not even THINK about calling me the whore!!!"

Trump was silent for a few moments before putting his fingers on his desk. They padded swiftly as he thought about what he was going to say. Then, he frowned deeply, shaking his head.

"I knew you hanging around those other nations gave you too much independence," he pressed a button under the desk and a bunch of agents came in, "we'll need to fix this," one of the agents was holding a needly and many began to restrain Amelia.

"What?! No! Get off of me! Boss, what are you doing?! Order them off me!!!" Parkson could only watch in horror as one of the higher officers injected Amelia's neck with a clear liquid. Amelia tried so hard to keep her eyes open, but she couldn't. Her world went black just like before, and Parkson felt his heart sink further as the agents carried her away through a secret door.

Amelia began to stir a few days later, her ears ringing and her mouth dry. She felt hungry, so hungry she would eat her own fingers at this point. Her vision cleared a lot quicker and she noticed she was in the seatbelt of a car. She was in the passenger side, which meant there was only one agent with her. She tilted her head to him and noticed it was Parkson, who was garbed in casual clothing.

"Good, you're awake. I couldn't allow you to be kept by them any longer so I busted you out. You want anything at McDonald's? It's like three AM so they should be serving a little bit of everything,"

"Chickie nuggies and a cola, please?" Parkson chuckled and nodded as he pulled into the drive thru.

"Sauce?" he asked.

"Honey mustard," Parkson nodded once again and ordered her food. Amelia gulped down half the drink before stuffing most of the chicken nuggets with sauce down her throat. She offered Parkson some, but he refused. She easily topped off everything, satisfied with her full tummy. They two continued to drive for a bit before Parkson pulled over to the side of the road.

"Tell me what happened with boss," Amelia remained silent, "Amelia, we are in my car. We are safe here, you can tell me. Did he try to touch you?"

"No," Amelia spoke softly.

"Did he give you bruises, scratches, did he hit you?"

"No,"

"Then what did he do?" Amelia began to cry as she curled into a ball.

"He called me a whore because I was hanging out with Russia. He acted as if I was sleeping with him, but it was only a date," Parkson scoffed.

"That's rich coming from him,"

"I know right!" Amelia shouted. Parkson wiped a tear from her eye, "where are we going?"

"The airport,"

"Airport?" Amelia questioned as they pulled into the furthest parking lot. Parkson snagged two bags from the backseat and handed Amelia a backpack.

"Amelia, this backpack has everything I was able to gather from that meeting. All of it is on this flash drive which is by the laptop and a set of nice clothes," the two began to trek there way to the front of the airport, where some cars were coming and going, "this is where we split. You're going to head back to your apartment,"

"What about you?"

"Due to the fact I just betrayed our boss, I'm getting help from my family in Sweden. I'll try to keep in contact with you best I can, though it is unlikely with all the drama. They will be watching you like a hawk, so try to be careful. Perhaps we will meet again one day,"

Amelia nodded and kissed Parkson's cheek.

"Thank you for all of this," Amelia turned, but Parkson grabbed her wrist.

"Do you remember what they did to you once they injected your neck?" Amelia shook her head, "good, you don't want to. Until we meet again, Mel,"

Amelia smiled at him softly as he walked away.