"How many of these dinners are there?" Elizabeth groaned as they stumbled into the house. "I swear this is the third event this week!" She tried to pull her coat off, fumbling when her scarf caught around her neck. "Ow!"

Blake abandoned shedding his own coat to rescue her. "Because it was the third one this week."

"My feet hurt; I hate shoes." She hobbled toward the couch, grabbing his arm so she didn't fall.

"I know. Sit." Once she was seated, he peeled off his own things. "The Foreign Minister was determined to drink me under the table."

"I know!" She laughed. "I could hear you laughing. I don't know how you have fun at any of these things."

Well, it's easy when I'm not there in an official capacity. He was an interesting guy, knew he way around a Broadway tune."

"You are such a nerd." She finally got her shoes off. "Oh, that feels so much better."

He sat at the other end of the sofa. "Give me your feet. You know, you could wear flats, or at least lower heels."

"But then all my dresses would need altered." His thumb pressed into the arch of her foot and she moaned. "Oh my god don't stop."

He chuckled. "You used to like getting dressed up."

"That was before Conrad decided I needed to attend every event in DC. He wants me to run for president after his term." She moaned again. "I don't want to be president. It's not fun."

"Well, I can have fun anywhere if I'm in the mood for it."

"I become president and you'll never get to sit another one of these damned things out again." She warned.

"Wait, why me? I'm innocent here!"

"Because it'll be your fault for not stopping me from doing something stupid."

"Fine." He carried on the massage on the other foot. "I will turn up and suffer through the destruction of my liver if it means you in the position you deserve."

"You sound like Russell."

He dropped her foot. "And now I'm out. I can't handle kind of negativity." He made to stand up, stopping as she grabbed him, laughing.

"Wait! Stop. I'm sorry. Please save my feet?"

He acted put out. "Fine. Good news is next week there are only…two of these dinners."

"Two?! Come on, Blake! Can't you do better than that?"

He tried to school his features. "I'm sure I can find one or two more for us to attend." He was ready with one arm up when she whacked him with a pillow.

=MS=

"That's it, I'm quitting and moving back to the farm!" It was a week later and, just as Blake had promised, they were getting ready for the second formal dinner of the week. Elizabeth entered his room, one hand holding her dress to her chest while the other held the skirt so she wouldn't trip on it. "Zip me, please?"

"You are not quitting over one state dinner." Blake was nearly ready, his bowtie was untied and hanging around his neck.

"This isn't about one dinner; this is about like thirty dinners."

"You're going to be just a delight tonight, aren't you?"

She turned to face him. "I was considering having a glass of wine before we leave, get the party started early."

He started to argue but reconsidered. "White in case you spill."

Elizabeth grinned as she walked out. "I'll keep that in mind for later."

=MS=

"If I promise to behave, can we stop and get real food on the way home?" Elizabeth whispered behind her wine glass. "I'm over rich people food."

"If you can smile and pretend the people around you are interesting for another hour, I will make Matt go through a drive-thru and you can have whatever greasy, carby thing you want. My treat."

"You sure know how to treat a girl." She giggled. "Now find me an interesting person to talk to and we have a deal."

"I'll do my best." The best he ended up being able to do was a special guest couple who were involved in missionary work in Africa. When he approached them, they seemed easy going and not hung up on trapping of title, so he directed Elizabeth their way and let them monopolize much of her evening. On the way home later, he had Matt stop for food and then watched with a grin as she ate. "This is vaguely familiar to my prom experience."

Elizabeth laughed. "Yeah? How's that?"

"Tux, more alcohol than I should've had, in the back of a chauffeured car with a girl I wasn't about to have sex with, eating fast food in our fancy clothes." As soon as he realized all of what he'd just said, he clamped a hand over his mouth and flamed red. "I can't believe I just said that." She only laughed harder.

When she calmed a bit, she offered him a fry. "So, no sex on prom night?"

"I didn't say that." He pulled the bag closer so he could help himself to more fries. "I wasn't about to have sex with the girl who was with me in the car… There were two couples who rented it together… The girls had early curfews."

"Ah."

He felt his blush darken. "Yeah. Memorable prom."

"You could have ordered your own food, you know." She watched him eat.

"You never finish. And anyway, while you were talking, I texted Russell's people and said we had a scheduling conflict next week and no dinners."

"Really?!" Her face lit up.

"Really. You're right, we've been doing these like crazy. It's too much. I'm going to end up either an alcoholic or with a heart condition."