[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CAJhOXG.png[/img][/center] [b]White House Press Briefing Room [/b] The gathered members of the White House press corps checked their phones and watches yet again as they waited for the press secretary. He was late. Very late. What was supposed to be a 9AM daily briefing had been delayed until now it was 9:45 and here they were, still waiting. “I’m here, folks!” Jimmy Olsen announced. He walked up to the podium and adjusted his bowtie. “Sorry about that I was just… [sub]what’s something normal government people do?[/sub] Yes, I was... crunching some numbers, yeah. With the budget department. That's it. Let’s get started, shall we?” Hands across the room shot up. Most every reputable news outlet had a seat reserved in the briefing room. The big networks and newspapers got prime real estate up front, and the further back it went the smaller and stranger the publications got. Jimmy believed [i]Tiger Beat [/i]and [i]Canoe Builders Quarterly[/i] shared the last seat in the back. “Okay, Brenda from… GNN I think...?” “Does President Ellis truly hate America? WHEN WE WILL LEARN ABOUT HIS MARXIST SOVIET MAOIST AGENDA?!” “No, you’re from the “Calvin ‘Mussolini’ Ellis is A Communist” youtube channel… how do you keep getting here? Someone get her outta here -- Next! Snapper Carr, yeah you’re GNN.” A man in a checkered blazer stood and tried to talk over the noise of Secret Service agents escorting Brenda from the room as she shouted "pogrom" over and over again. “Jimmy, any updates on President Ellis’ Supreme Court nomination?” “He’s meeting with senators today to hear out their concerns and get their advice. I’m sure he will announce his choice soon. This is something the administration wants to take its time with. Guys like us come and go, Snap, Supreme Court Justices are here to stay. We want to make sure we have the best jurist who represents this current administration, and one who can be a future ally to forthcoming presidents. Who else? Umm… Hey, Cat Grant [i]Daily Planet, [/i]now I know that face.” Jimmy licked his fingers and rubbed his eyebrows with the now wet fingers. He made a face as he realized his hands were still covered in chalk. “Sup?” “You’re still Superman’s pal, right?” “Of course,” said Jimmy. He realized he hadn’t been around the big blue in quite a while. Their last outing was… last year? Yeah, that was it. An alien named Vostar gave Jimmy a literal Midas touch for seemingly no reason. It was cool and all… until Jimmy realized he couldn’t eat gold food… or drink water as soon as it turned solid gold. And the ladies? Oh, boy... that was a weird night. Luckily Superman helped him out thanks to a quick trip to Ft. Superman, and an even quicker battle of wits with Vostar. That was last fall just before the election kicked into high gear. This stretch had been the longest Jimmy had gone without interacting with Superman since, well since Jimmy had gotten his start as an intern at the [i]Planet[/i]. “Your pal just tore up the Baltimore city harbor fighting the Atomic Skull,” said Grant.” Care to comment?” “He has a pretty strong right jab,” replied Jimmy. “It’s been known to level supervillains and buildings alike.” Jimmy’s flippant mood evaporated when he saw Cat’s annoyed look. “Twenty people went to the hospital,” she said. “I don’t think it’s a joking matter, Jimmy.” “And how many went to the morgue, Cat?” Jimmy shot back. “None? That’s because of Superman. Property can be fixed, buildings renovated. But human life can’t be replaced.” “What’s the administration’s stance on Superman being an unregistered superhuman?” “You seem to have a theme today, Cat,” Jimmy said with a chuckle. He noticed nobody else in the room laughed. He cleared his throat. “Umm… so. Superman is not registered, true, but the VRA is a UN resolution the federal government has yet to formally adopt. But I will say this: fifteen years of unimpeachable service to this planet, let alone this nation, had kinda bought the guy some slack. That's all I'll say about that. Next? You in the back.” “Jamie Nelson, [i]Tiger Beat[/i]. If… the administration was a boy band, who would be the heartthrob, who would be the bad boy, who would be the cute one, who would be the shy one, and who would be the older brother?” “I’ll take the third part first.” Jimmy put his elbows on the podium and put his face in his hands. “Well, the cute one, that would obviously be me that's an easy question. Bad boy? Well that has to be the SecDef. He’s a bit rough around the edges, a lifelong career as a Marine will make you a badass by default, don't look him in the eye if you can help it. Now when you get to the shy one that brings up a real issue---” [hr] [b]The Roosevelt Room[/b] Calvin, Pete, and Attorney General Irons had a working lunch with members of the Senate Judiciary Committee to discuss Calvin’s upcoming Supreme Court nomination. At Calvin’s orders White House staff prepared a simple lunch of cold cuts and potato chips. His predecessor was big on flaunting the grand opulence of the office and never passed up an opportunity to cater every meal with the finest, and most expensive, food possible. He wanted to go the other way with it. By the look on Senator Byrne's face Calvin's move gave them mixed feelings. And that was okay with him. He’d been hailed by experts as one of the ultimate outsiders in American politics when he joined the 2020 race. They had no idea how right they were, he thought a the time. A journalist and political activist with zero practical political experience and zero party affiliation, Calvin Ellis had managed to connect with the apathetic American people and inspired something they hadn’t had in a long time: hope. And that didn’t sit well with a lot of people in Washington, including some of the very senators here in the Roosevelt Room. They were all professional politicians with decades of public service under their belts. Many of them had presidential aspirations of their own. That was why Calvin and the rest of his inner circle had to be very careful with the advice they received from the senators here today. Who knew what angles they would be playing, where their allegiances truly aligned, and what they could gain by steering him in one particular direction. “So we’re down to three,” Calvin said between sandwich bites. “All with pros and cons.” “I like Judge Harrison,” said Senator Vance. “Almost twenty years on the federal appeals court and a very moderate track record.” “He’s too old, though,” said John Henry Irons. “Judge Harrison will be seventy-three next year. We want a justice who will be a fixture on the court for a few decades and not just some short-term rental.” “What do you think, Joe?” asked Calvin. All eyes fell on Senator Joe Siegel. If Calvin had any sort of political inspiration, it would be the senior senator from Wisconsin. Siegel had fought the good fight for over forty years across various elected positions both at the state and federal level. He was as close to a principled politician as the world would ever see, to his detriment a lot of times. In a lot of ways he and Calvin were similar. They didn’t play the political game the way everyone else wanted them to. But it seemed to be working out for both of them. Siegel was now halfway through his third time in the Senate and recently elected minority leader. If the midterms were kind to his party he may end up majority leader. And if the Ellis administration could have a friendly majority leader that would go a long way to helping their agenda. “Harrison is a safe pick,” said Siegel. “He’s your compromise candidate. Edge will let his nomination get out of committee, the vote will be mostly along party lines… but with Harrison’s moderate history you’ll have votes across the aisle and get him confirmed. Like AG Irons says, he’s a short-term justice though.” “I like Justice Woods,” said Senator Byrnes. “He’s been chief justice of the Virginia Supreme Court for six years now. Relatively young for such a high position, in his mid-fifties. His past opinions indicate he’s an advocate of a Living Constitution.” “I have a bad feeling about him,” said Pete Ross. “The Virginia court is technically an elected office. We did research into his early days as a judge and he was very much a strict originalist in his opinions, like Judge Hartwell was. I wonder if he gets into a lifetime position will he reveal his true colors?” “My favorite is Judge Glastonberry,” said Calvin. “Of course,” said Siegel. “The one that’ll be the most trouble to get through the Senate.” “Should we list all the reasons,” asked Senator Vance. “There’s no way Morgan Edge will approve of a black woman from Oregon, a black woman with an appellate record so radical, it’s slightly to the left of Trotsky.” “She’s the best candidate,” said Siegel. “But her confirmation hearing will be drawn out into something this town hasn’t seen in a long time. I can promise you, Mr. President, it will be a street fight played out across the halls of Congress. Edge will fight tooth and nail to see it go down in flames.” “Yeah,” Calvin said with a grin. “But I like the idea of her on the court for the next twenty plus years.” “This is where you make the decision, Mr. President,” said Irons. “Do we go practical, safe, realistic… or do we swung for the fences?” Calvin looked over at Siegel. The two men shared a long look. There was something in the senators eyes, a mischievous twinkle that said it all. Calvin leaned back in his chair and put hands behind his head. “Cal,” said Pete. “If you try to push Glastonberry through and Edge defeats it, it’ll bring your political capital down. You’ll have to retreat with your tail between your legs and offer up someone like Harrison as a consolation. It will hurt us for the rest of your term and beyond. When it comes to 2024, it’ll be one of the many things you can be attacked on.” He barely heard Pete’s warning. His thoughts were on the earlier fight with Atomic Skull, and the night before as he flew around the world helping so many people in need. As Superman he could do anything he wanted. But as President Ellis? It seemed he was locked in to rules, structure, and playing the political game. He looked up at the ceiling and muttered something. “What was that?” asked Senator Byrnes. He looked back down at the group and smiled. “‘What the hell is the presidency for?’ It’s what LBJ said when he was told supporting Civil Rights might endanger his chances of reelection. We have this office, we have allies, and we have the people.” Calvin stood up from his seat. “We’ll worry about 2024 when it gets here. I want to do what I can to change the world right now. Let’s do what's right, street fights be damned.”