"No, thank you minister." Her voice is dripping with sarcasm but she's unsure if he can tell. "I need a confirmation within hour, otherwise we're imposing sanctions." She sighs in relief as the computer screen goes dark; her head falls back against her chair and she looks blearily at the clock. 3.05 am. By the time she gets confirmation that Russia has removed their troops and she wraps things up a new day will already be commencing. She won't get home tonight, again.
"Ma'am?"
She looks up as Blake pops his head around the door. She feels guilty as she notices the bags under his eyes and the shake in his hand from too much caffeine; whenever she's here, he's here. She can see the toll it's taking. "What's up?" She smiles softly, pushing her glasses to the top of her head.
"You, uh, you asked me to remind you to call Henry when you had more than ten minutes free. I didn't know... it's so late" he pauses and rethinks "early."
Elizabeth's eyes brighten at the mention of her husband and she smiles. "Thanks Blake, I'll call him now."
Blake nods, a bleak smile on his face. Finally feeling like he's accomplished something in the early hours. D.C is unproductive at this time, he should be asleep. "Nadine and Jay will be here before the hour to strategise on Russia." He turns to head back to his desk.
"Thanks Blake." She calls quietly, picking up het personal cellphone and dialling her husbands number; her fingers move over the keypad without even thinking - or looking - she knows it by heart.
His voice is groggy as he answers, she hates waking him but she has to hear his voice, it's been almost 24 hours. She hates the silence between them.
"Babe?" Henry grunts, rubbing his eyes and sitting up and tugging the cord to switch the bedside lamp on.
"Hey baby" he voice is cheery, the antithesis of he she feels. She can hear his voice though, and that makes everything a million times better. "I'm sorry it's so late." She whispers quietly, sitting back in her chair and propping her aching feet on her desk.
"No, baby I'm glad you called." He can hear her tiredness through her cheery tone.
"I've missed you." There's no point beating around the bush with him. He can see, and hear, right through her.
"You saw us yesterday, have you forgotten already?" His voice is teasing, trying to lighten the mood.
"I know, but I miss you." Her voice is breathy; from sleep or sheer desperation for his husband she isn't sure.
"Ah." His voice is knowing.
She can hear his infuriating smirk down the phone. If he wants to get playful, well why not - she has half an hour to spare.
"What are you wearing?" He whispers with a chuckle, hoping to make her laugh; it's his favourite sound.
She does laugh, and then she plays along. "Oh, you know. A jacket and a blouse and a skirt. The usual, you've seen it before." She knows it's all fun, but his voice, still thick with sleep is arousing her. It's completely in appropriate, she doesn't care.
"I do." He confirms, picturing her in one of her skirts. He loves those skirts. "If you were here, my hand would be inside your skirt." His voice is low, headed by desire for his wife.
"Mmm" she isn't sure her response is exactly what he wants, but all she can focus on is the memories of his hands touching her, teasing her. "I wish I was there." She whispers, her awareness of her surroundings still heightened. "I wish you were touching me, Henry." Her voice still retains the breathy quality that signals her arousal.
He can hear her. He can hear her breathing started to quicken, it's barely noticeable unless you're looking for it but he can hear it. "I know, but soon baby" he sounds like he's trying to soothe a child having a tantrum.
"Henry, I need -" she can't quite find the words, but he knows. She knows he knows.
"Touch yourself baby" he whispers. His voice is deeper, a dominant quality laced through it. "Pretend it's me." He whispers.
She whimpers down the phone, her analytical mind debating whether to give into her desire or not. "Henry I'm at work, I - "
He adjusts himself on the bed as she whimpers, he knows what she needs. He only wishes he was there to give it to her. "Go into the bathroom, and lock the door Elizabeth."
God, that voice makes her weak at the knees. The irrational voice in her head is loudest; she gets up on slightly shaky legs and makes her way to the bathroom, sitting on the counter and lifting the phone back to her ear. "Henry."
"I'm here baby." He coos softly, listening to her breathing becoming more erratic. "Are you touching yourself baby?" He whispers, the thought of her getting herself there making him uncomfortably aroused.
"Yes." It sounds like a plead. She whimpers softly, her hand squeezing her hardened nipple softly.
"Where, tell me baby?" His hand gravitates to his boxers, as rubs softly.
"My breasts, Henry I -" she chokes, losing the words in her throat as she tugs her nipple softly.
"Just pretend it's me baby, you know what my mouth feels like" his hand rubs himself over his boxers, he's getting throughly uncomfortable. "God" he groans, "babe I'm so hard."
His admission only spurs her on, her fingers work over her breasts and down her stomach slowly, her shirt falling down with her hand as it descends; the shirt she never bothered to unbutton. "Henry?" she whispers, fumbling with the zip of her skirt to loosen it around her waist.
"I'm here baby" his tone is encouraging, through she couldn't possible think he'd forgotten about her. "Tell me what you're doing baby, talk to me."
"Oh god -" her voice trembles, "I'm so wet Henry." She groans softly, her hand tracing her clit slowly. "For you." She adds, as if he even needs the confirmation that he caused this.
"That's it baby" he croons, releasing himself from his boxers and rubbing slowly; the pace is torturous but he has to last. She has to come first. "Push your finger in slowly" he groans. His voice is so low it's almost a growl.
She does as he asks, pushing in slowly and breathing a sigh of relief at the welcome friction. She keeps her hand still, she knows this routine: she thinks of all the other times they've done it - first when he was away training with the marines, though he never spoke for fear of being over heard, she guided him with only his heaving breathing escalating her own pleasure; then when she was in the CIA, she'd lay on some uncomfortable hotel bed in a strange country and beg him for her release, thousands of miles away.
Her thumb rubs her her clit softly, her moans travelling down the phone. "Henry please" she moans, she can feel the coil in her abdomen, she needs release.
"Push another finger in and move them slowly baby" his breathing is heavier, his hand rubbing himself slowly, though his movements are getting harder. "God, I wish I was there" he groans, "I'd bend you over that desk and push your skirt up..." he uses the low voice that he knows she loves, playing out a fantasy they both get off on talking about.
"Yes" she whispers, her arousal drops onto her palm, trickling down her wrist as she moves her fingers. "I need your cock Henry" she moans, her fingers thrusting hard trying to reach the spot that seems to evade her tonight, she needs him.
"As soon as you get home" he whispers, he's close but he holds back. "I'll push my cock inside of you so hard you won't be able to walk straight."
Her thumb works insistently over her clit, seemingly of its on volition. "Henry I think I'm gonna - oh!" Her hips buck up into her hand, the white hot flash of pleasure surging through her as her back sags against the wall.
He climaxes as she cries out, her sounds spurring him to the edge. "Babe" he grunts, breathing heavily.
She grins lasciviously, still breathing heavily.
"Still miss me?" He chuckles softly.
"Mmhmm." She isn't quite coherent yet, her legs are still shaking.
"Sounds like you can take care of things yourself..." he trails off, listening to her soft panting.
"But I prefer it when you take care of me..." she bites her lip, tilting her head to her shoulder to hold the cell so she can fix her clothes at the same time.
"See you soon?" He knows she can't answer that, but he prefers to ask anyway.
"Soon as I can." She confirms with an unnoticeable sadness to her voice. "I love you Henry."
"Love you too." He confirms, waiting for the inevitable 'I have to go' and then it comes, he's never prepared to hear it. "Bye babe." The phone clicks off. He misses her still, sometimes her voice just isn't enough.