Update:
This story was planned as a one shot. Apparently, my muse didn't agree. I've added a second chapter, so we can see exactly how this little deception started.
I'm using the timeline 2queens1prince posted on tumblr- Elizabeth became Secretary of State in spring of 2014. Stevie is away at college, and Alison & Jason are in Georgetown.
In 2018, all of the kids are home, and Alison hasn't yet moved out.
The first chapter takes place on Christmas Day, 2018. The second, a random Saturday in spring, 2014.
The timeline doesn't really matter, for this story, but yet, it matters, because: details. And ridiculousness. And because we spent so much effort obsessing about that timeline.
Don't even get me started on the "show being set two years into the future" nonsense. I'm in denial.
Also, ignore the fact that the Great British Baking Show is currently on Netflix. My research was a bit lacking, but then again, online access wouldn't have fit with this story. So I ignored it. *shrug* I'm pretty sure the continuity fairy on the show is drunk, and does the same.
Enjoy!
Madam Secretary Prompt: Hearing their parents talk about the Great British Baking show so often, the McCord kids buy them the DVDs for Christmas, but it has only ever been a code word for Henry & Elizabeth.
Christmas Day, 2018
Elizabeth snuggled deeper into the couch, sighing with contentment and pulling Henry's arm tighter around her. The Christmas lights glowed softly behind her eyelids as she dozed. With a soft blanket tucked under her chin, and Henry's warmth against her back, she thought she could stay in that position all day and be perfectly happy. She could hear the kids giggling with each other, peppered by an occasional retort. Her Irish coffee- admittedly more Irish than coffee - had grown cold. The box of donuts on the coffee table had long been devoured in the madness of unwrapping gifts, only crumbs remaining. She didn't know where Henry managed to find hot, fresh donuts on Christmas morning, but she wasn't complaining. Christmas magic or something. She snorted to herself. That was definitely the Jameson talking.
The sleepy fog in her mind cleared a bit at Alison's exclamation. "Hey, we missed one last present for you guys!"
Elizabeth lazily rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes in time to see her daughter squirming under the lowest branches, jostling the hanging ornaments. A mumbled "be careful, those are breakable" tumbled out of her mouth, without much emphasis in the warning.
Alison grabbed a small rectangular package, buried in tree skirt. Sliding back out, more gently this time, she prepared to toss it to her mother. "Here, Mom, you can open this one."
"Hold on, Noodle." Henry shifted slightly behind Elizabeth, stretching to take the present from Allison.
Elizabeth felt a slight thud on her legs as the package landed in her lap. While waiting for Henry to settle back onto the couch, Elizabeth searched for her glasses in the mounds of her blanket and perched them on her nose.
"Thanks, Noodle, but I think we've had quite the bonanza for the day, haven't we?"
She gestured to the typical Christmas morning aftermath of colored paper and boxes of varying sizes, strewn around the living room.
"Yeah," Alison replied, "but we thought you guys might like this." She shrugged, but Elizabeth didn't miss the excitement in her attempted nonchalance. Curiously, she tore open the wrapping paper. In her peripheral vision, Stevie winced. Elizabeth never was one to save the paper, much to Stevie's chagrin. Her oldest child had a stack of neatly folded wrapping paper next to her just-as-neatly sorted gifts.
She'd obviously opened the package upside down, but recognized the shape of a DVD. "Do we even have a DVD player?" Elizabeth thought to herself. The kids were always on their phones or technology these days, so she never thought about it. Even when they had a rare family movie night, Jason set up their selection before she finished making popcorn.
Well, huh. Dismissing her rambling train of thought, Elizabeth flipped the box over.
And stopped suddenly.
Oh, crap. Crap.
She felt Henry tense against her back. After a moment, his body started to shake quietly.
"The Great British Baking Show," she read.
She fumbled for an appropriate comment, sensing the kids watching her expectantly.
Crap.
Did they know?
They'd been sneaky, hadn't they? Blasé, even?
She wasn't that loud, was she?
As her mind frantically raced for a response, she bit her lip to keep from smirking, suddenly finding the situation rather funny.
Henry's arm tightened around her waist again and his other hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He was still laughing silently, but to his credit, she didn't think the kids noticed.
Stevie was aware of her hesitation, though.
"Mom, you guys talk about watching that show all the time, but we couldn't find it on Netflix or Hulu."
"Who, what?" Elizabeth interrupted.
"Hulu, Mom. It's an online streaming service for TV." Jason rolled his eyes and waved away his dismay at her confusion with a gesture of his hand.
"Who doesn't put anything online these days," he mumbled. "And who watches people bake? Seriously. How is that even at all exciting?"
Jason's rant nearly sent Elizabeth into a fit of giggles. No way could she risk looking at Henry. Exciting, indeed.
"Besides, Mom, we all know you can't cook. You're not getting any better spending all that time watching someone else do it." Jason apparently was just getting wound up. "Why bother? Dad is really good already."
Elizabeth bit her finger. The unintentional innuendo in her son's tirade should have stifled her amusement at a potentially awkward situation, but she couldn't help herself at this point.
"Shut up, nerd." Stevie glared at her brother. "It's baking, not cooking. There's a difference." Before Jason could open his mouth to debate her point, she continued. "Anyway, we thought you might have missed some episodes and could catch up together, since you don't really have a chance to watch TV with your schedules."
"Your bedroom TV has a DVD player. We checked, first." Stevie apologized for the intrusion with a shrug of her shoulders. "You can even watch on Jason's gaming system here in the living room. Hey, we could all watch this afternoon." Stevie perked up at the idea of more family holiday togetherness.
"No way," Jason responded. "And keep me from playing this game? As long I've been waiting, you've got to be kidding me."
As the kids started arguing, Henry shifted and Elizabeth felt his hot breath against her ear.
"Well, now we might have a problem," he chuckled, his voice a low whisper.
Elizabeth shot up to a sitting position, jarring Henry with her sudden movements, barely avoiding a collision of her head with his chin. He grunted and pulled his arm away to rub where her elbow had landed in his stomach.
"Who wants breakfast?" Elizabeth asked, scrambling for a distraction.
"We already ate breakfast," Allison reminded her. "Or at least had all those donuts."
"Yeah, but I'm hungry again," said Elizabeth.
"I'll make something," Stevie offered. The look she sent her mother clearly conveyed the unspoken of course you are. Elizabeth glanced away. She couldn't meet her daughter's eyes and keep her amusement contained.
"Thank you, sweetie. We'll be in there in a minute." The kids traipsed out of the room, still bantering about who was using the television, and when.
Elizabeth shifted the blanket off her legs and swung her feet to the ground. She set her elbows on her knees and buried her forehead in her hands, fingers tangling in her hair. She looked over at Henry when the kids had safely left the room. They both burst out laughing as their eyes met.
"We are either really devious or really obvious," Henry managed to say, through his laughter. "And no, you aren't nearly as quiet as you think you are."
"Well, let's hope all those years of tradecraft paid off, and they're oblivious" replied Elizabeth, her giggling intensified at his comment. The man knew her way too well. "If not, we're totally screwed."
Henry stood up, reaching out his hand to Elizabeth. She clasped his fingers and he pulled her up to standing, taking advantage of the momentum to grasp her other hand and bring her into the warmth of his embrace. Sliding his arms around her waist, he pulled her flush with his chest, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck. He tucked his thumbs in the waistband of her pajama pants, hands resting low on her back.
"Look at it this way," he mumbled against her skin. "They've just given us an excuse to disappear into our bedroom for, oh, hours." Glancing at the DVDs, he continued, "We have four seasons to catch up on."
Elizabeth slid one hand up into his hair as Henry nibbled his way down her collarbone, tilting her head to give him more access. Her other hand rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat speed up as his tongue traced the neckline of her shirt.
"You make a good point," she conceded. "Assuming they'll resume their typical avoidance of all things family once the glow of gift giving has worn off, and give up this idea of watching with us." Sarcasm weighed heavily in her voice.
Henry lifted his head so he could see her face. "I think we can count on that," he affirmed. He tilted his head in the direction of the kitchen. Raised voices could be heard, now arguing over who should set the table.
"Do you think we can also count on the traditional Christmas food coma and that new game of Jason's to keep them occupied while we binge watch the rest of the day?" Elizabeth wondered. "Surely that's the expectation, with a present like this?" She shrugged and feigned an innocent look.
Henry's laugh became a low growl. "Is that what we're calling it, now? Binge watching?"
Elizabeth snickered.
Henry's eyes darkened with desire as he contemplated the possibilities of the afternoon alone with his wife. The pumpkin pie really didn't need whipped cream, he suddenly decided. "You'd better work on your poker face if you want the kids to buy it, but I'm all in."
Stevie's voice called from the kitchen. "What do you guys want in your omelets?"
"You'd better stop looking at me like that, or I'm not going to be able to eat this feast Stevie seems to be making for us," Elizabeth warned Henry, anticipation building low in her belly.
"Hey, don't blame me," Henry replied. "You put all these thoughts in my head. Besides, babe," he continued, "I've never known you not to eat. I think you can manage."
Elizabeth smacked him on the chest. "Yeah, but now I don't really want to. I guess I'm gonna have to fake it."
"As long as you aren't faking anything later." Henry winked at her.
A glint sparked in her blue eyes at his words.
"Oh, definitely not."
She reached her other hand into his hair and stretched up on her toes to meet his lips, kissing him deeply, her tongue sliding against his.
"Wait." Elizabeth pulled back suddenly. "What do we do if they ask us about the show? We're gonna have to fake that."
"Well, they haven't yet, but if they do, but there's always Google."
"Oh, you're good," she purred.
Henry grinned. "You know I am." He kissed her quickly, but with heat. And then again, gently biting her bottom lip.
"As long as we don't have to explain we're not actually watching people bake. I'm pretty sure talking with our kids about our sex life will be way worse than talking with Jason about his." Elizabeth shuddered slightly at the memory of that conversation.
Henry grunted in agreement. "Well, in our defense, we did watch the show. That one time."
Elizabeth snickered again. "Yeah, like either one of us really had the capacity to pay attention. I seem to remember several orgasms. Maybe some begging. Because you are really good." Her fingers toiled in his hair while she spoke, eyes dancing under lowered lashes. "And I really wasn't that loud. You didn't have to turn on the TV so the kids wouldn't hear us. You definitely didn't have to tell them we were going to watch it when you dragged me upstairs."
"Why did you choose that show, anyway?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly curious.
Holding her gaze, Henry slowly slid his hands down to her hips, brushing the sides of her breasts teasingly. "I have no idea. I had other things on my mind at the time. Namely, getting you naked. But I have to disagree with Jason: it is exciting."
Elizabeth shivered in response to the desire in his voice, her moan low in her throat. Her laughter died with the sudden flare of arousal.
"Come on," Henry said, as he shifted them both around the end of the couch.
With a playful swat on her ass, he pushed Elizabeth toward the smell of cooking wafting through the doorway.
"Let's go fuel up. We have Great British Baking Show marathon ahead."