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Prime Minister Russell Gold hated sucking. That was sucking up to the local chairmen and women every 4 years. If he wanted to keep his job it was a necessary evil. Russell had called the general election 24 hours ago which meant that the country got to vote for the new government. The British people would decide who would rule the country for the next few years. If Russell wanted to be PM again (and he did) he needed to win back his seat as the member of parliament in his constituency of Cumbria and the boarder. This was situated about 300 miles away from Downing Street, London where he resided the majority of the year. July 22- Morning Dove opened his car door for him he stepped out and was greeted with the outside of Moe French’s small cottage on the outskirts of Storybrooke, Lake District. Moe was the Mayor for Cumbria and the boarder which meant he was one of his closest allies to get him back into Downing Street. Russell loathed election time. 3 weeks of being told that they hate you in increasingly more local accents that were undoubtably exaggerated just for him. He did love helping people though would never admit to it. Always finding ways to assist in anonymous ways. It was more the long hours of socialising and being paraded round village after village of locals who either hate your guts or want to talk to you. He didn't know which was worse. If he lost his seat here in Cumbria he would loose his powerful job, house, security team and livelihood in London so these few weeks were crucial for him to stay on top. He faced tough competition this year in the face of Regina who was part of the opposition and this year polling had suggested either of them to win. The winner of this contest faces a monumental task. In just a few weeks, they will assume responsibility for the fifth largest economy in the world, overseeing a population larger than that of the Roman Empire at its peak. Their role will involve governing more people than Julius Caesar ever did, with an even deeper reach into their lives. This isn't ancient Rome; this is Britain in the early twenty-first century, where the state influences nearly every aspect of life. People depend on the government for their safety, healthcare, and even basic infrastructure like sewage systems. The values and instincts of the next prime minister will shape the future of our society—how free, equal, and prosperous it will be. They will manage a budget nearing £1 trillion annually and oversee the military and police, wielding the full coercive power of the state. It remains one of the most powerful positions in the world, where failures in power are of utmost consequence. Double sucking for Gold. He couldn’t let Regina get her grubby little fingers on his country. As he rang the doorbell which was something admittedly he hadn't done in a while as when he was back in London he was the most important so everything and everyone was arranged around him. He didn't even have a key to his own house. There was a policeman employed 24/7 to guard his door to let anyone in or out. So this was quite the change. 'Russell' A loud booming male voice answered pulling him from his daydream. Moe stood half a head over him stretching out his hand to greet him in a way many politicians did. Russell was never a fan of the phoney grins that so many people in politics have. He felt that being cool, clear and direct was the best way to govern not hand out false promises like Moe and so many did. Russell rose and took the extended hand. ‘Moe. Always a pleasure.’ He lied. Its not that he didn't like him it was more the fact that Moe seemed to have an inflated sense of self importance. 'How was the trip, You look exhausted' As he welcomed him into his house through the hallway and into the kitchen. 'You know how it is, I got in yesterday and the team have already started strategy meetings so I didn't get much sleep' He lied. Moe didn't need to know what he had actually been up to. 'Well I'm glad you've already started strategy as I'd like to help you again this year as I believe we make a great partnership in governing this area.' 'That's great. Thankyou I'm sure we can make the next 4 years as successful as the last 8.' Russell responded in a sort of buzz word filled sentiment that he was used to flippantly giving off to the press for the last 8 years. 'Perfect, but before we get to shop talk would you like a drink? join me on the patio?' He nodded as the larger gentlemen walked over to the drink’s cabinet. Russell went out into the well vegetated garden. Breathing in the English countryside, Gold’s attention was taken when he heard the stream that ran through the property which gave him a sense of peace he hadn't felt in quite some time. God, he needed to get out of London more. He was sure he was aging twice as fast as the locals. Moe returned with 2 drinks 'You know it’s almost become a tradition for me and my daughter to go out canvasing for you. I honestly can’t wait to get right back to it. The thrill of the debate, persuading a voter. God, you can’t beat it. My daughter was always way better at it, she has something in her manner of speaking. Last year she encouraged some villagers who hadn’t voted in going on 30 years to go down to the polling station. I always wonder why she never got into politics herself. On election night she'd always comes over and we’d stay up all night and watch you give your victory speech.' 'How old is your daughter now' Gold butted in trying to move the conversation onto something that wasn’t politics for once '25' 'God that makes me feel old' They both chuckled Russell tried to look interested as Moe started to ramble again on about his ideas of how to engage the community whilst also including some of his more radical ideas of how to engage the press. Russell's mind kept wandering pleasantly back to the more pleasant hours of the morning. In that moment he realised that he might have to use those memories as a crutch over the coming days to keep his emotions cool whilst listening to hours upon hours of locals gripes and issues with him and his party. Last nights 'mistake' might not have been so much of a mistake after all. If there was time in-between strategy meetings and town hall events or canvasing, he fully intended to stop in that same house once more. Moe’s monologue stopped as they both heard the gate open at the back of Moe's property. 'Hiya dad' A female voice shouted out from the back of Moe's garden to them. Russell turned in his seat. He knew that voice. ‘Hello honey, we're just sat on the patio.’ Moe almost shouted over his heavily vegetated garden before giving Russell a knowing wink and shouted. ‘I've got something very special for you.’ ‘Oh? That female voice called back. As the woman came in & out of his view. Russell saw the top of her head appear as she stopped in her tracks 'oh, wait a minute, ahhhahah' she breathed out into a laugh 'no no no, jesus you better not have dragged me all the way down to yours just to ask me to help with this election stuff again. I remember very distinctly having the same conversation with you 4 years ago' The female voice shouted back as she made her way through the slight Forrest of over grown bushes and trees 'Of course not chicken do you really think that why I’d call you all the way here to see me' He jovially laughed back 'oh, come on. I've been dragged out to every single petition every year since i was 2 years old like its gonna change this year. Also have you seem, ive had to come in through the back gate because some rich twat has parked his crazy car right infront of your.....' Her voice trailed off as she took out her headphones and looked over at Moe's and his 'friend' as they came into view for the first time. Her eyes went wide, and face flushed as she saw him. Her heart stopped and sweat pooled in her hands. She was a vision despite wearing what looked like old running gear that had been worn a few too many times as the fabric started to become worn down showing off more than she would have intended, yet they fitted perfectly to hug curves everywhere it mattered and shorts just high enough to showcase a set of truly well toned legs. Russell swallowed, eyes expanded, throat dry. His mind whiplashed back to not even an hour ago where he had the same woman’s long legs wrapped around his waist. But right now, he could read the panic in her gaze.' ‘Hello, you must be ah, Moe French’s Daughter I presume?’ ‘Your… your father speaks very highly of you.’ He reached for her hand and she walked the final few steps and took his hand dumbly. ‘Ah ha. um hey. what are you? what are you? what are you doing here? She looked half shocked half confused and another half panicked. Looking between the both of them. 'see i told you it would be a great surprise.' Moe giddily responded looking between the two of them like a 3-year-old on his birthday. 'your father was just informing me on your great efforts that you have put into the village throughout the years' Russell replied trying to distract her mind by making easy political chit chat that came easy to them both. ' its very nice to meet at last as Moe has told me so much about you over the years' He caught and held her gaze until she blushed again and looked away. 'Very nice to meet you prime minister' 'Call me Russell' ‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you at last, Russell.’ She replied with a grin as she remembered the 'relations' they had shared not 1 hour before 'Sorry forgive my outfit I had no clue we had visitors.' She smiled awkwardly, wrapping an arm around herself as if that would preserve her modesty to the man who had just seen her in her most intimate and private moments. 'I hope you’ll excuse me while I try find something more decent to wear.' She placed a light kiss on her father’s cheek and, avoiding Russell's eyes, walked out of the room. He released a long, slow breath that he didn't know he was holding. This election season would certainly be a lot more interesting.