State Department Tuesday 3:17 p.m.
Daisy laughed out loud and Blake shifted his weight onto his left foot. He kept his face blank, but internally, he was desperate to collapse into bed - actually he was tired enough to sleep on the floor.
"I am fighting a strong desire to turn today's polling numbers into a poster." Daisy said. She stood beside Elizabeth McCord's desk, where her boss sat, no doubt equally exhausted and yet, looking improbably beautiful.
"Ah, but we don't care about polls." Elizabeth McCord said with a grin.
"But we are thrilled that the Congressman had to turn tail and run." Daisy said laughing again.
"No." Elizabeth disagreed. "That would be small minded of us and petty." She paused. "We are above such things."
"Yes, ma'am." Daisy nodded her head, turning to leave.
"However," Secretary McCord continued with a wry grin. "We are filled with a general sense of joy because it is Tuesday, and we've always liked Tuesdays."
"Yes, Madam Secretary." Daisy said as she turned and passing Blake stepped out of the office.
"Blake, you appear to be asleep on your feet." Secretary McCord said sitting back in her chair and looking up at him.
"Me?" He rested a hand against his chest. "I'm filled with unspeakable energy and joy in preparation to celebrate the goodness of Tuesday."
This brought an actual laugh from his boss, which pleased him to no end. "Ma'am, shall I send for your car?"
"It's a bit early for that." She sighed.
"You worked through the night."
"I'm fine. Thank you, Blake, but let's make sure I am out those doors at five - not a second later."
"Yes, ma'am." He turned to leave and looked up to see both Jay and Nadine headed to her office, their faces grim. His heart sank, and he turned back and said, "Ma'am, Nadine and Jay would like to speak with you."
"I can squeeze them in." She said, laughing lightly but stopped immediately seeing Blake's expression. She rose from behind her desk and stood beside him. Seeing their faces, she understood immediately they weren't here to gloat over recent successes.
Blake glanced at her, amazed at her stamina. She gave no indication of frustration or disappointment that it appeared another problem was rolling their way. She met his gaze and he dipped his head, embarrassed that she had caught him looking at her with compassion.
"Coffee?" He asked.
"Yes, please." She said moving to meet Jay and Nadine in her outer office.
"Madam Secretary," Nadine greeted her. "If you have a minute for us, something has come up."
***MS***
"Listen kid," Henry McCord told his youngest. "Tell him he's got to make up his mind. We already got the tickets. Is he in or out?"
He stood leaning in the doorway of Jason bedroom. Jason sat at the end of his bed, a phone in his hand.
"He's gotta talk to Anna." Jason said.
Henry shook his head at his son. "See," he pointed a long finger at Jason. "What did I tell ya? Girls complicate everything! There's no rush to have a girlfriend. Wait a few years."
"Dad." Jason groaned. "Bender has always been dumb. Him having a girlfriend doesn't change anything."
"That doesn't make what I said less right." He held out his hand. "Come on, it's after nine. Hand over the phone."
Jason handed his phone to his father. "You know, none of my friends have to turn in their phones at night."
His father said nothing in response but glancing behind him called, "Noodle, phone!" Over his shoulder.
"Mom's not home?" Alison asked. She handed her father her phone.
"No." He sighed. "I guess something else came up. She'll call or walk in the door, eventually." He turned back to Jason. "Hey, if Bender cancels, you can bring Alison."
"No way!" Jason groaned.
"Where?" Ali asked leaning against her father.
"The basketball game." Jason answered. "My birthday present and, absolutely not."
"Like I want to spend a night sitting with your smelly friends!" She shook her head at her brother. "Dad, can we make popcorn?"
"Its nine." He told her.
"So, it's not that late. We could watch something." She pleaded, pulling on his arm.
"Alright." He nodded. "C'mon, Jas." Jason rose and followed his sister down the back steps to the kitchen. Henry glanced at the phones in his hand and said, "Be right there." He stepped into the bedroom and put the phones on the charging station on the desk. Elizabeth's robe lay draped over the back of the chair where she'd abandoned it two, no three days ago. He sighed deeply, fighting the urge to lift the robe to his face and breath in the familiar sweetness of her perfume.
"Da-ad!" Came Jason's voice from below. "Tell Alison we are NOT watching Project Runway!"
He closed the door behind him, taking the stairs two at a time. "C'mon, Jason," He told his son stepping into the kitchen. "It's not a bad show. We can 'make it work'." His smile was huge as Alison exploded with laughter at his Tim Gunn impersonation, and for the briefest of seconds he forgot about the aching longing in his heart.
***MS***
"Where are they now?" Elizabeth asked, looking up into Jay's face which was grey with concern.
"A local prison."
"Seriously?" She shook her head. "And the response has been?"
"Nothing so far. There have been small local grumblings - nothing big enough to be labeled as protest. The international community has just gotten wind of it. One of the sisters," He glanced at the paper in his hand, "Anoosh, had a fairly active online presence. She made friends with a girl in France, Lara Tennier, who is organizing a protest at her high school."
"She wrote the letter to us?" Elizabeth asked.
"Letters." Nadine nodded her head. "Yes, ma'am."
They studied her thoughtfully as she remained silent. After a long minute, she leaned back in her chair, "Alright, let's get into it, but be discrete. Pakistan isn't going to cooperate just because we want them to. We've got to find a way into this."
"Ma'am? Do you really think we should get involved?" Jay asked and both Nadine and Elizabeth glared at him. "No, I get it." He said trying to explain his hesitation. "It's wrong, but wrong things happen all over the world. They aren't American."
"No, but it can't hurt to at least ask the government to intervene on their behalf. Majara is thirteen, Jay and Anoosh is barely fifteen. They are children! Besides, Lara asked us to speak out on behalf of freedom. We can't ignore that. You want to let down the four hundred teenage girls who signed her letter?" Elizabeth held up the letter, the bright, bubbly signatures a contrast to the seriousness of the request.
"It's going to break over here soon." Nadine added. "There's an entire thread devoted to the sisters on tumblr. Pretty soon we are going to see letters from American teenage girls."
"It's already starting," Blake interrupted. "#freethesisters." He held his phone up. "#wifeordeath."
"Get into it, now." Elizabeth's voice was stern.
***MS***
"You sound so tired, Babe." Henry lay back against the pillows of their bed, a phone to his ear.
"I am." She exhaled slowly. "I'm just waiting on a call. Should come in any minute now. I'll be home tonight."
"Well, it's already 10:30." He said. You left Monday morning, and I'll bet you won't make it through that door before Wednesday."
"How are the kids?" She diverted.
"Fine. Jason is excited about the game next week. Although, your favorite kid, Bender, might not make it."
"Why not? We got those tickets weeks ago!"
"Yeah, but that was before Niki."
"Who is Niki?"
Henry laughed. "Bender got himself a girlfriend, and now his time is not his own.
"Oh, good God!" She laughed. "Seriously? He's younger than Jason!"
"He's in over his head, too." Henry told her. "He can't seem to manage a decision without her."
"Niki?" She asked. "That sounds like a stripper's name."
"Elizabeth! She's fourteen and I'm sure she's a perfectly nice girl."
"I don't like it." She huffed.
"Neither does Jason." He glanced at the clock. "You can't come home now, Babe?"
"No. We are waiting on a call but after that."
"Sweetheart, you sound so worn out."
"Thank you."
"Hey, you know what I mean. I'm trying to be thoughtful."
"You are thoughtful." She sighed. "But I better go. I'll probably be pretty late. Don't wait up, Henry."
"I'll be waiting, Babe." His voice was gentle. "It doesn't matter how late. Anything you can talk about?"
"Not now. Not on the phone." She told him. "I better go. I'm sorry about not coming home and . . ."
"Hey," He cut her off. "Not your fault, Babe. I love you and I'll see you in a few hours."
"Just a few hours." She repeated. "That's not so bad. Thanks, Henry."
She hung up the phone. She always, always felt better if she could at least talk to Henry. It wasn't that she couldn't manage life herself; she was a confident, strong and independent woman. And she relied on Henry - had been for over two decades. He was good at reminding her of the things that really mattered, and of who she truly was - he was her clearest mirror. She turned back to the papers on her desk, trying to ignore the picture that Jay had found. She set it aside, and turned to the files in front of her, deciding to focus on problems she could actually solve. She shuffled through the stack of paperwork, recognizing that it was a sad attempt to distract herself from the bright smiles of two teenage girls sentenced to death for simply choosing to defy tradition.