It was nearly ten when they reached her office. The lower levels of the building looked completely abandoned but when they stepped onto the seventh floor, it was as busy as mid-day. Her staff met her at the elevator and Henry plastered a smile across his face, determined not to glare.

"We've got the ambassador in conference room C." Daisy told her. "He just arrived a few minutes ago. He seems much more willing to consider at least lowering the tariffs."

"Good evening, Daisy." Elizabeth said pointedly. Daisy ducked her head and then tried again.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Daisy said. "Good evening." She nodded her head. "Gooening, Dr. McCord."

"Ms. Grant." He nodded at her. "Good evening, Ms. Toliver."

"Dr. McCord, it's good to see you. Although, I feel a bit guilty about stealing your wife like we have." Nadine said.

"Well, I imagine it has more to do with South Korea than you." He said with a genuine grin. Of all her staffers, Nadine seemed to lean closer to humanity than any of the others - beside Blake.

Blake rose from behind his desk as they approached. "Madam Secretary, Dr. McCord, good evening. I hope your dinner was pleasant."

The food was good." She smiled at Blake. "The company excellent." She winked at Henry and then turning back to Blake said, "If you give me five more minutes, I'll be ready."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll let the ambassador know." He nodded crisply and closed the door to her office after they'd stepped inside.

"Blake can call a car for you." She said, setting down her bags and turning to face him.

"Sure. I'll make it home." He grinned at her. He faced her, his hands on her shoulders. "I'll be waiting for you. You think maybe you'll get home tonight?" He tried to keep the desperate pleading out of his tone.

"I don't know. I sort of pushed everything back with my freak out." She sighed.

"Hey, it wasn't . . . Sweetheart, it was a natural reaction. Be kind to yourself, please?"

She nodded. "I've got an early meeting so . . .I'll do my best, Henry. I wish we were both home now. I could sleep for at least a day."

"Soon, babe." He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Go do your thing, and kick a little ass. Then come home. I'll be waiting."

"Don't romanticize it, Henry. I'm no . . ." She paused. "I'm a diplomat, not Superman."

"No. You aren't. Superman has a weakness. Near as I can tell you haven't got one." He laughed. "Well, maybe a couple," He confessed as she opened her mouth in protest. "But you are pretty near perfect in my eyes, Elizabeth. So walk your fine legs in there and tell those ambassadors to get their crap together and come to an agreement because your husband is waiting at home for you."

"Henry Patrick McCord!" She blushed.

He said nothing but grinning, leaned in and kissed her. "Thanks for dinner, baby."

"You are welcome." She said laughing. "Thanks for the pep talk."

He watched her leave, straightening her suit as she did. He leaned against her desk, suddenly tired. He ran a hand over his face and looked up just in time to see Blake approaching.

"Blake!" He called out cheerfully.

"Dr. McCord, I'll call for a car?"

"That's alright. I can take the Metro."

"At midnight? No, sir. I want to keep this job." He reached for his phone.

"She'd never fire you, Blake. She adores you. Hell! I adore you, but I'll take the car. You are right. You've suffered enough misplaced wrath for one day."

"Thank you, sir and don't worry over anything else. I'm not made of glass." Blake turned and spoke into the phone while Henry waited. Hanging up he said, "They are bringing the car around."

"Walk me down, Blake?" Henry asked.

"Yes, sir." Blake said nervously.

They stepped into the elevator together, and Henry wanted to laugh as Blake fidgeted nervously.

"I wanted to say thank you for how you handled things today. I'm grateful and I know Elizabeth is too."

"It was the glass breaking that bothered her, wasn't it? I really don't think it was noticeable to anyone else. It's just that I spend a lot of my time off to the side watching." Blake explained.

"Yeah." Henry paused. "She was standing in front of a window when they were attacked so . . . It's not something she can talk about. You understand. Right, Blake?" The doors opened and they stepped into the empty hallway together.

"Yes, sir." Blake answered. "I would never talk, though. Never."

"That's not the least bit of what I am worried about." Henry said, pausing. "But people are always watching and listening. So many want her to fail. And what happened is private."

"Yes, sir." Blake agreed. "I understand."

"I can't express how much I appreciate you getting her out of that room tonight. You allowed her the space she needed and somehow managed to help her maintain her dignity."

"And I can't express how much I respect and admire her, sir. The workload has been ridiculous this week. I think I've seen more of you than she has. That always runs her down - being apart from you." Blake shrugged. "I understand that she is capable and independent but it is difficult not to want to protect her. I know she can manage herself and I'm sorry, I understand it is private, but . . ."

Henry considered Blake thoughtfully a minute and then reached out squeezing the young man's shoulder. "Listen, Blake, she's embarrassed that she was short with you earlier, and I know that she would . . ."

"Sir," Blake interrupted. "There's no need for an explanation. I completely understood, and my feelings weren't hurt by it."

"Good, but still, I know she's sorry all the same. She cares deeply for you, and is grateful that you've been so patient and understanding. And I know that everything that happened was difficult for you too. And I wanted to say how much I appreciate all you've done and all you are doing."

"Well," Blake sputtered, clearly uncomfortable. "She doesn't really need any . . .I just . . ."

"Don't get nervous. I'm not going to kiss you!" Henry said laughing. "But I will tell you this - when I was in Afghanistan - those guys I fought with - they were brothers to me. We endured some pretty tough days and nights and no one, no one on earth understands what that feels like, except those of us who were there. Shakespeare called it being "brothers-in-arms". And I hope it doesn't make you too uncomfortable or overstep any boundaries when I tell you that I feel that way about you."

Blake blushed. "No, sir. I'm honored." He cleared his throat. "Its an honor to be on her staff."

Henry McCord smiled and held his hand out to Blake, who shook it firmly. "Well, Blake, you are more like family, than staff." He released his hand and said, "Good night, brother. Thank you for everything, and see if you can't help her get this mess wrapped up so she can come home to me."

"I'll do my best, sir."

***MS***

Elizabeth McCord stepped inside the front door and dropped her bags where she stood. The warmth of the house washed over her like a wave and she stood completely still taking it all in. It was nearly nine at night on a Saturday so she had little expectation for her children to be at home. No doubt they were out with friends but she hoped at least Henry was waiting for her return. She was, therefore, surprised to hear Jason whisper, "She's here!" followed by a chorus of shushing. Smiling she decided to play along.

"Anybody home?" She called out. "Henry?"

"In the dining room." He called back.

"Oh, well, I'm beat. I'm just going to crawl into bed." She said trying to suppress a laugh at the sound of panicked whispering that broke out.

"Not even a kiss, babe?"

"Well, I guess."

She turned the corner to discover her entire family gathered around a candlelit table loaded with a delicious spread that included all her favorite foods.

"Welcome home!" Ali said cheerfully. She rose from the table and threw her arms around her mother. "We missed you!"

Stevie joined the hug and she kissed both her daughters. Looking up, wiping her eyes she turned to Jason and said, "Get over here, you."

Grinning he rose and allowed himself to be hugged fiercely by his mother. "You didn't miss me?" She asked.

"I guess a little," He cautiously admitted.

"I missed you a ton!" She said kissing his cheek even as he pushed away from her with a plaintive, "Mom! C'mon! Knock it off!"

"I know you're tired, babe." Henry said from across the table where watched them all with bright, shining eyes. "But I thought you'd like a dinner break all the same. You hungry at all?"

She laughed at this. She was a thin woman and had been a skinny child. Her teachers had told her father more than once, "We'd really like to see her put on a few pounds." He would always respond with, "So would I." She'd grown up to the sound of clicking tongues and whispered comments about her thin frame. It wasn't any different now. There were probably hundreds of articles speculating on her eating disorders. Only her family knew the truth - she was always hungry and could eat all day if she were given the opportunity.

"Henry Patrick McCord, when have I not been hungry?" She said with a smile and sank into a chair.

"I can think of only twice, babe." He winked at her as she blushed remembering both instances vividly. "But, I guess tonight you are hungry?"

"I made a roast chicken with rosemary and garlic." Alison said proudly. "And Stevie made some cauliflower, lentil casserole thing which sounds terrible but is actually pretty good."

"Jason?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't gag." He offered with a shrug.

"High praise." She said, smiling at Stevie.

"Is it true that you told both delegations they couldn't sit down until they came to an agreement?" Stevie asked her mother, as she put a plate of food in front of her.

"That sort of thing only happens on tv shows." Elizabeth said lifting her fork.

"You want a glass of that Chardonnay?" Henry asked and she nodded her head.

"I simply pointed out that after five days of negotiations, the kitchen staff could no longer work extended hours." She explained.

"You starved them out!" Jason's eyes were wide with admiration.

"Well, hunger is pretty powerful motivation." She said, her fork paused mid-air. She took a bite and turning to Alison said, "This is delicious! I tell you, Noodle, I am almost grateful I'm a terrible cook. You'll be an artist before you go to college."

Alison blushed with pleasure at her mother's praise.

"I hope she flunks out though," Jason said earnestly. "When she goes, I'm gonna starve."

"Well, I'll probably still be here. So if you can learn to expand your palate, I've got your back, nerd." Stevie told her brother.

"Mom, will be president by then." Alison said with a smile. "You'll be stuffing your face in the White House kitchen."

The food and wine hit her full force and she felt herself relax, listening to the warm, familiar banter of her children. She leaned her chin on her hand, her elbow on the table, her whole body weary with exhaustion. She could feel herself sliding lower and lower until her head rested on her arm on the table.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

She looked up surprised to see Henry at her elbow, the room empty and the table cleared.

"Where did everyone go?" She asked sleepily.

"You fell asleep, babe." He said laughing, a hand under her arm. "C'mon on, bed."

He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned on him as he led her upstairs. She could hear the sound of their children from the kitchen.

"Night!" She called out to them. "Thank you for dinner!"

She smiled as a chorus of "Goodnight, Mom" and "love yous" rang out. She leaned into Henry unspeakably content. Her eyelids felt heavy and it was all she could do to keep her eyes open as led her upstairs and into their room. She sank onto the bed. "I can't believe we finally cut a deal. I can't believe I'm actually home."

"I can't believe that you are in bed before ten." Henry said setting his watch on the dresser. "Alison had the news on loop," He stepped into the closet still talking to her as he changed into his boxers and a t-shirt. "CNN is calling you the "Miracle Deal Maker" but don't let it go to your head, Babe. I think FOX is claiming you made a pact with the devil. Or maybe it was the other way around. I don't remember."

He stepped out of the closet to find her slumped over asleep in bed. She lay at an odd angle one shoe on and one on the floor. He paused, smiling as he studied her, wondering as he often did, how her beauty only seemed to increase over time. He slid her shoe off her foot and gently tried to reposition her, but her blue eyes fluttered open.

"Henry?"

"I certainly hope you aren't expecting someone else?" He said with a grin. "Come on, babe. Crawl under the covers."

"Still in my suit." She muttered rolling to her side of the bed.

"I got ya." He said as he slid her skirt off. He pulled the covers back. "Let me get your pjs." But she was curled asleep under the covers when he returned with her pajamas in his hand. He sat down on the bed beside her, running a gentle hand over her cheek. His eyes filled with sudden tears - the longest lasting effect of her horrible trip to Iran. He found himself overwhelmed with gratefulness again and again.

Not long after she'd come home from Iran, she had looked up from where she stood mucking out a stall at the horse farm covered with dirt and hay to find him watching her and silently sobbing.

"Henry!" She had said dropping the shovel in her hand. "What happened?"

"No." He choked out, embarrassed. He wiped his face. "I am so thankful and you just look so beautiful and I . . ."

She laughed out loud. "Yeah, I'm ready for the runway."

But he pulled her into his arms hugging her tightly. "You are beautiful." He said blinking away his remaining tears. "And I'm so grateful you are still here with me."

A look of pain and guilt darkened her features and she opened her mouth no doubt to apologize, as she so often did, but he hadn't given her a chance. He had kissed her until they were both dizzy, and he was just about to convince her to follow him up into the privacy of the hayloft, when Alison had arrived with her despised Blackberry in hand, reminding him again that she was not his alone.

Sighing, he crawled into bed beside her, wrapping his body around her. He brushed a kiss on her cheek before settling close to her.

He had always spent a good deal of his life in reflection, and Elizabeth's trip to Iran had pushed this habit into overdrive. He often found himself lost in thought, and later found himself pouring his heart out to both Father Bryan and Dr. Sherman.

After a lot of hard work during his sessions, he finally confessed to Dr. Sherman, that knowing what he knew now, he would've done everything in his power to prevent her from becoming Secretary of State - even if it shattered their relationship. He would rather be cut off from her for the rest of his life than watch her suffer so terribly. The price had been far too high. She was a strong woman but watching her beautiful face twist in pain as she recounted dark memories broke his heart and made him question some of his deepest beliefs. Although he was confident in her ability to overcome and endure, the memory of her so shattered and wounded haunted him. He could still hear the broken sound of her voice as she struggled to finally tell him everything - and even then she didn't really tell him everything. Her story was revealed slowly piece by piece and even now months later, she would whisper new secrets to him.

He knew down to his very core that they would recover; that she was already emerging from those dark days stronger than ever. Yet he also knew that all those broken places within him would never heal. How could he ever forget lifting her sobbing and shaking from the floor, as he desperately tried to comfort her; or the long hours spent waiting to hear if she were forever lost or the horrible anguish he felt as she finally unburdened herself telling him how she'd longed to get to Abdol; how she'd been helplessly pinned down by Fred's dead body.

He burrowed in tighter, closing his eyes and drinking in the familiar scent of her perfume. He knew from experience that in just a few hours she would stir restless, her brow furrowed in fear. She wouldn't fully waken and called out only occasionally but he'd trained himself to wake. He would whisper soft,comforting words until she settled back into peaceful sleep.

It was those small things that crushed him - her fearful dreams, the way the sound of breaking glass made her heart remember the terror of that day, the way she would flinch when he ran his fingers over the new scar on her back, or the way his heart would hammer in his chest if he got a call from her staff.

There were so many things he wished he could change; so many things he wished he could fix, but he was powerless, and so he relied on the small tools at his disposal - a warm embrace and a plate of warm food. But he knew full well that there were so many things that would never be cured by a simple dinner break.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

Thanks for your patience but I was on vacation and far from my computer. I plan to update with the last few chapters fairly quickly. So appreciate all comments and reviews!