"Elizabeth and Henry were eyesexing it up at that Canadian Embassy party. You know those two had some fun when they got home. Here's my take on it. Just a little Madam Secretary smut to tide us over until October. Anyway...on with the show.

Henry sat at the kitchen table for a few minutes after Jason went to bed. He glanced at his watch. It was after ten. It had been a long day. He dragged himself upstairs and into the bedroom.

"Hi," she said, from the chaise in the corner.

"Hey," he smiled. "I didn't hear you come in. When did you get home?"

"Just a few minutes ago. You were in the kitchen with Jason. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. He just had some questions about my time in Desert Storm."

"Ah."

"How about you?"

"Everything went well."

He started to take his jacket off. She walked over to him and covered his hands with hers, stopping him.

"Hold on a minute," she smiled, biting her lip.

"What?"

"I really like you in a tuxedo," she said tugging playfully on the ends of his undone bowtie.

"Really?"

"Mmm," she said kissing him. "James Bond's got nothing on you, babe."

He smiled and kissed her again.

"Because of all the subterfuge with Javani and all that, I didn't really get to enjoy you in this tuxedo," she pouted. "We didn't even get to dance."

"I had no idea you felt this way," he winked. "Maybe I should get a job where I have to wear a tuxedo all the time."

"So...you're going to leave higher education and become what? A maitre d'? A symphony conductor?"

He shrugged.

"Thank you for coming tonight," she said, running a finger down the placket of his shirt. "I know those things aren't very fun for you, standing around and talking about ice and—"

"—and being your arm candy?"

"I didn't say that. Did I say that? Speaking of that though, you were robbed. You should have been number one on that list. Hands down. If TMI Magazine could see you right now there would be no contest."

"Babe, I think you're a little biased."

"No. I have excellent taste in men. I always have," she grinned and kissed him.

"Now have you had your fill? Can I take this monkey suit off now?"

"I thought maybe you'd like some help—" she said smiling and reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

"How much champagne did you have tonight?" He asked curiously.

"I'm not drunk! I'm not even a little tipsy."

He looked at her skeptically. She huffed and stepped away from him, unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her bare feet. She stepped out of it and was surprised when Henry backed her up against the door, pining her arms to either side of her head and proceeded to kiss the life out of her. Once her arms were free they went around his neck and they continued to kiss each other. She pulled away for a second to get some oxygen. She smiled at him, running her hand down his cheek.

"You look tired. Maybe we should just go to sleep—" She said kissing along his jaw.

"You just spent the last 15 minutes coming on to me and now you want to go to sleep?" He asked kissing her neck.

"Me? No. I'm fine. I'm not tired at all."

"Really?"

"No. You're the one who said he was exhausted."

"I'm not tired anymore."

"Really? Oh good. What do you want to do?"

"What do I want to do?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

"Elizabeth—"

"I thought I'd distract you with flattery and sexy lingerie then take advantage of you." She said wrapping her arms around his neck.

"What if I take advantage of you first?"

"That'll work, too." They kissed again. And again. And again. Henry backed them up until Elizabeth felt her legs pressing against the mattress.

"You're overdressed," she said tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants, pulling off his bowtie and finishing the buttons of his white shirt.

"Mmm. You're certainly not. I'm glad I didn't know you were wearing this underneath that dress," he said sucking on that particular spot on her neck that made her knees weak.

She tilted her head to allow him better access. "I thought you'd like this better than the dress," she said tossing his shirt behind her somewhere.

"I liked the dress. Really liked it. I thought about pulling you into an empty hallway and, you know, but—"

"I could tell. I caught 'the look' when we were talking to the ambassador about ice and the Northwest Passage, blah, blah, blah. And I would have gladly followed you into said empty hallway if I hadn't had to meet Javani."

"Good to know."

"Think what getting busted for public indecency in the Canadian Embassy by a bunch of Mounties would have done to my approval rating."

"Might have improved it," he joked.

"Daisy certainly wouldn't be happy about trying to spin that, though," she mused.

They laughedd and he bent to kiss her lips again.

"The only person's approval rating I care about is yours." She was now working on getting his pants off of him.

"I adore you," he says.

"Prove it."

He pushes her down on the bed.

"Oh, I intend to, baby," he says, crawling up her body and covering her mouth with his, "Make (kiss) no (kiss) mistake (kiss) about that."

As he hovers over her, his mouth is hot and demanding on hers. She slides her hands up his back as he kisses her. Henry tangles his fingers in her hair, their mouths caressing each other until they can't kiss anymore and they lean their foreheads together, breathing hard.

When she reaches for the strap of her slip he lays his fingers over hers, halting her movement.

"Wait," he says, his voice rough. "I want to do it."

Elizabeth catches her lower lip in her teeth as his fingers expertly sweep the lace and silk off her shoulders and over her breasts, he follows the material down her body with his mouth.

When he reaches her ankles, she flicks the slip off her feet and it slides onto the floor.

He looks at her, his eyes dark with desire.

"Lord you are beautiful—" he says huskily, slowly drinking her in.

She feels her entire body flush under his intense gaze. "Henry—"

After several torturous moments without his touch, finally his lips and hands are upon her again tracing a line down her neck, across her shoulders, to the hollow at the base of her throat, his fingertips move lightly on her skin, barely grazing it, sliding slowly down her arms, grazing the sides of her breasts, following the dip and curve at her waist, sliding down her thighs.

"These have to go," she says sliding his boxers down his thighs. He kicks them off and returns his attention to her.

She reaches for him again, brushing her fingers down his body, but he catches her hand, holding it.

"Wait," he murmurs. "Let this be for you, just you."

Then he's kneeling over her, tracing the backs of her thighs with his gentle hands, sliding her panties down. He moves his hands up the soft skin inside her legs, gently pressing them apart, and then cups his palms against her bottom, pulling her toward him. His breath is warm on her, and then he's there, nuzzling, probing with his tongue, finding the spot that makes her gasp and her knees tremble.

Elizabeth abandons herself to the sensation of his lips and tongue stroking her, over and over. Suddenly it's too much, and she puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

He returns to stroking his warm hands slowly up and down her body. Over and over he strokes her, building her arousal to a fever pitch. Deep inside, her blood is pounding like a drum.

When she doesn't think she can take any more, Henry cups her breast in one hand, lowers his head, and slowly begins to circle one nipple with his tongue, over and over. At last he drags the flat of his tongue lightly over the swollen, sensitive tip before taking the whole thing into his mouth and sucking gently. She feels the deep pull between her legs.

Her breath is shallow and uneven. Elizabeth spreads her knees, begging, pleading for more. He lifts his head and watches her face, then lays his whole hand lightly over her, cupping her. She holds her breath as he strokes her and she spreads her thighs wider, shamelessly begging. And then his fingers are in her and she cries out. Slowly and steadily he presses inward, deeper, in and out.

Her body begins to buck from his ministrations. Her nerves tingle and throb, and the sound of her own breathing echoes in her ears. She tosses her head back, and he notices her eyes have lost focus. "Oh, Henry…Henry..." she repeats mindlessly.

She reaches down blindly and grasps his wrist, stilling his movements. "Baby...I need you. I need you," she whispers, her hands on his arms, pulling him down on top of her, guiding him, and with one strong thrust they are joined together.

He stops and lies still, staring fiercely down into her face as he lies propped on his forearms above her. She whimpers, rocking her hips, and Henry lowers his face to her shoulder and begins to kiss her neck.

His skin is hot and moist with sweat as he rocks slowly against her. Elizabeth feels herself floating on a slow river she surrenders to its force as it carries her along, faster, faster.

He is close, but he wants her to go with him. Bending down, he leans in and catches one of her breasts in his mouth, flicking his tongue across the sensitive nipple. Gripping his shoulders, she digs her nails into his skin, and then lets out a long, low moan as he leaves a wet trail from her chest, up along the long curve of her neck, and to her ear. He can taste the salt on her skin.

"Oh God," she murmurs. The feelings are so exquisite and Elizabeth thinks she will die right then and there from the pleasure. She runs a hand along his back to grip his backside, encouraging him to continue, faster, harder. Her thighs clamp tighter around his body.

His movements become urgent. She can tell he is close and she is not far behind him. She is about to reach a hand down to where they are joined, but Henry beats her to it, sensing her intention. She can feel the knot of tension tightening deep in her belly. She arches into him, pulling him deeper inside her.

Bringing his head down to hers, she is able to engage him in a long, hard kiss, her tongue dueling with his, loving him with her mouth. She feels his body begin to quake. Henry takes hold of her hips, and pushes himself into her with all the force he can muster. It shocks her and sends ripples of pleasure across her body.

Attempting to focus, she stares into Henry's eyes. She loves to see him in this state, the look of concentration on his face. She runs a hand along his handsome face, and he catches it, bringing it to his lips, kissing it. With a final cry, he stiffens, filling her, completing her. Elizabeth slams her eyes shut, crying his name, tumbling over the edge after him. He collapses atop her, mumbling his gratitude.

The room is silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing. They lay there for several minutes, still joined intimately, attempting to come back to earth. Henry slides off of her, slipping from her body, afraid he is crushing her.

"Am I alive?" he wonders aloud, still trying to regulate his breathing.

She glances around the room, trying to bring her eyes back into focus. She mentally checks that she is still breathing, "I think so." She curls into his side, and his arm involuntarily wraps around her. She leans in to kiss up his neck and along his jaw. "I love you," she whispers into his skin.

He runs his fingers up and down her spine, tracing invisible patterns on her slick skin. "I love you, Lizzie." Those three little words don't seem enough to express the depth of his feelings for her; he wishes he could find the words, but he knows she can feel it.

They lay there tangled in the sheets. Henry's arm around her, her head resting on his chest.

"Those Canadians sure know how to throw a party," she says smiling up at him.

"It was nothing compared to the after party." They both chuckled.

The laughter fades into silence and they lay there quietly, fingers laced together, his thumb caressing up and down hers slowly.

"I've missed you," she says kissing his chest.

"It's only been four days, babe," he says, smiling at her melodramatic tone.

"Not just that, but this week has been so crazy. We've barely had time to talk. I feel like I've only seen you for five minutes here and ten minutes there. I just—I missed you, that's all."

He squeezed her tightly to him and kissed the top of her head. "It's like the world just melts away when we're together, doesn't it? Washington, work, the kids, our problems..."

"Yes," she replies. She sits up and looks him in the eyes, taking his face in her hands. "I love you, Henry."

"I love you, too, Elizabeth."

She smiles and bends down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around her back and rolls them over so he's on top of her. He covers her mouth with his, alternating between hard and soft kisses. He trails his hand over her hip as his leg slides between hers and their dance begins anew.

"Babe, you wore me out," he says breathlessly, dropping his head back onto his pillow.

Elizabeth swings her leg over so she is straddling his waist. She runs her hands up his chest so they are nose to nose.

"Really? You must be getting old, Mr. Arm Candy," she smiles wickedly. "It used to be we could do it four, five times a night before you were tuckered out."

He gives her a dirty look and flips her over onto her back. He kisses her hard.

"That's dirty pool, baby. Just give me a few minutes," he whispers into her ear. "The night is still young."

Henry's eyes open. He squints in the morning light. It takes him a minute to orient himself. A soft sigh reminds him of the leggy blonde on top of him, her steady breathing an indication that she is still very much asleep. Her legs are intertwined with his, her head buried in the crook of his neck. A smile crosses her face, and Henry wishes he could be privy to whatever it is she's dreaming about.

He surveys the room. There are pillows, sheets, blankets and items of clothing scattered everywhere.

"Damn," he marvels, trying to remember the last time they trashed a room like this. The memory of their first time plays across his mind. He chuckles softly remembering the state of Elizabeth's dorm room the next morning.

"Mmm," she mumbles lazily into his neck, eyes closed, fighting to break free from sleep, "I love this time of the morning."

She stretches her long limbs and arches her back and he can't help but be reminded of a cat the way she contorts her body. Elizabeth rubs his calf with one of her feet lovingly.

"Babe, will you make me pancakes?" she says in that coquettish little voice she uses when she really wants something. She punctuates the request with small kisses along his jaw.

"Um..." Henry moans a little. Truthfully, he has no desire to move from his warm spot in bed. But then he looks into those blue eyes, and knows he's powerless to deny her anything.

Henry squeezes her briefly and plants a quick kiss on her lips, "Alright," he acquiesces, "Blueberry or chocolate chip?" He untangles himself from her, and slides out of bed. He searches the room as he makes his way to the door. Finally, he locates his boxers and t-shirt, and slips them on.

"Chocolate chip."

Elizabeth grabs his pillow, and burrows into it, holding it like she would him. He sighs, wishing he were still in bed. He pauses in the doorway and says, "Anything else you desire, Madame l'Secretaire?"

"-ooh, lots of whipped cream. And strawberries. And—and plenty of coffee!"

He smiles, shaking his head at her growing list of requests, and then acknowledges they probably did work up quite an appetite after last night. He chuckles to himself and heads downstairs.

fin.