"So you aren't coming?" Allison asked her. The entire family was gathered in the kitchen at various stages of readiness for the day. Elizabeth was sipping a glass of water, standing at the sink. Allison sat at the table, a bowl in front of her. She looked up at her mother with hopeful eyes.

Oh, I wish, I could . . ." She began, trying to hide the anxiety she felt at the thought of being out in the open with a crowd.

"But you are going back to work."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes not wanting to see the accusation in Allison's eyes.

"Just a half day and . . ."

"No, Noodle, you wouldn't want the headache." Henry interrupted. "It would be her first public outing since she got back. It would bring out all the press. It would ruin your game."

"I just thought she would want to watch."

"I'll come though." He offered with a grin. "I'm no former coach like Mom, but I can cheer with the best of them."

"I guess." Allison rose and put her bowl in the sink. She said nothing to her mother, stepping around her.

Elizabeth sighed and glanced at her husband who simply raised an eyebrow at her.

"Have a good day!" She called after her daughter, who had already disappeared down the hall.

"Allison Grace!" Henry called when there was no response. His voice held a cold edge. He had risen from where he sat at the table and stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Henry, don't." Elizabeth said.

But Allison had already returned to the kitchen, her face a mask of conflicting emotions.

"Have a good day, Mom." She said softly. She crossed to where Elizabeth stood and wrapped her arms around her, giving her a brief hug. "Bye, Dad." She said as she passed by her father and out into the hall.

"Well, she's clearly ticked that I won't be at her game." Elizabeth said with a sigh. "And I was so close to getting Mother of the Year."

"It has nothing to do with the game, Liz and you know it." He crossed to her.

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" She asked him.

"You gotta give her time. She won't talk until she's ready." He wrapped an arm around her.

"Well, that's not very convenient."

"Tell me about it!" He said with a laugh. He kissed her cheek and giving her shoulder a squeeze, added, "She gets that from you, babe. C'mon, your car will be here any minute."

She followed him out to the front hall. He opened the closet holding her coat out for her. "Now, I know everyone there is gonna make a big fuss. There will probably be a huge bouquet and people will clap - there might even be a cake, but I don't want it to go to your head or anything."

Leave it to Henry to understand that she although she was filled with anxiety about returning to work, she needed to keep things light.

"I'll try." He stood facing her, his hands on the lapel of her coat. Just then Jason thundered down the stairs.

"I'm late!" He said as he dashed right past them and out the door.

"Jason!" Henry called.

He paused with his hand on the door, and then with a sheepish grin doubled back to his mother.

"Bye, Mom. Have a good day." He said, standing on tip toe to kiss her cheek.

"You, too." She said, but he was gone before she finished her sentence.

"You sure you don't want me to tag along? My first class isn't until 10." He asked her.

"Nope." She said, her voice assertive and confident. "I got this."

"You do." He agreed, pulling her close and kissing her. "But remember what the doctor said, home by two!"

"I'll see you at dinner." She drew in a deep breath, and stepped away from him, reaching for her bag as she did. She hesitated at the door, knowing full well that there were at least two press vans parked out front waiting for her to step outside.

"Don't let all that nonsense go to your head either." He called from behind her. "You are just a temp working a job for a couple of years till they find a new guy."

She laughed out loud. This was his most used joke. It has started during the confirmation hearings when Jason had been swept up into how Important his mom was becoming. She was all over the news, and uncomfortable with not only the attention but also with the impact that attention was having on her family. One night at dinner Jason, full of his mother's glorious fame, said, "I bet you could get me tickets to any game, Mom." She had frozen unable to react - feeling as if even considering the job was destroying their carefully crafted lives.

"I doubt it." Henry had said, his voice flat. "She's just a temp, Jas. they needed somebody to take over for awhile. "So they brought in a temp." He winked at her, as their son's face fell.

It was true though. And she took comfort in the fact that she was just an ordinary mom, working at a temporary job for awhile.

"I'll see you later." She said to Henry, knowing that he understood that she meant so much more than that.

***MS***

He opened the door wide and stepped into the hall. It was definitely class time because the halls were empty and silent. He turned left following the sign that said administration, and walked up to the receptionist.

"Good morning." He said trying to sound upbeat and cheery. "I'm Dr. McCord. I received a call about my daughter?"

She looked up at him startled - perhaps she recognized the name - and smiled warmly at him. "Yes! Well, I will tell Mr. Applegate you've arrived. You can just have a seat over there." She indicated an unoccupied chair. A boy sat beside him, his shirt untucked, his long bangs over his eyes.

"America's free country, right?" The boy said to him immediately as he sat down.

He blinked, startled for several seconds and then asked, "In what sense?"

"Huh?" The boy looked up at him through a sheaf of hair.

"Well, I'm free to celebrate any religion I choose, but what if that celebration infringes on your rights? What obligation do I have to your freedoms? Do they supersede yours?"

"What?" The kid's face turned dark. "I don't even know what you are talking about, man. I just don't think I should have to cut my hair. It's America. They can't dictate to me how I look, can they?"

"Ah!" He said with a smile. "But this school, although technically located in the United States of America, is private, and therefore has it's own set of rules and regulations. And when you were enrolled here, you agreed to them."

"I didn't agree to get my hair cut!" He muttered.

"Well, you are a minor, so your parents agreed for you." The boy's eyes grew wide. "They essentially declared your allegiance to this school. It's like you joined a new country - one in which, they can tell you to cut your hair."

"That sucks!" The boy said. "They just sold me off to some other country?"

Henry smiled inwardly, settling back in his chair as the young man next to him, considered this new revelation.

"Dr. McCord!" Principal Applegate stepped out of his office. "It is good to see you again."

"McCord?" The boy said surprised. "I saw your wife on tv when she got . . ." He paused here, having at least the good sense not to finish his sentence. "No wonder you said all that. You are government! You are part of the system!"

"I'm just a teacher. My wife's part of the government." He said as rose to meet the principal.

"A teacher! That's even worse."

"I'll be with you shortly, Evan." Principal Applegate told the boy.

They stepped into the large office, and Mr. Applegate settled himself into a wing chair that sat opposite a small couch. A large mahogany desk sat in the far corner. He gestured toward the couch and Henry sat down.

"I appreciate you coming down so quickly." The principal told him. "I know Allison has no history of being disruptive or disrespectful in the past. In just her short time here, she has made a positive impact on our school community, so it is very concerning to see her having such a difficult time. Everyone involved in the incident has nothing but concern and compassion for your daughter."

"I appreciate that. We've had a pretty rough couple of weeks." Henry said. "But I don't really understand. What happened?"

"Her history teacher was discussing homework, and noticed that Allison hadn't submitted hers. She didn't punish Allison, but understood that perhaps things had been difficult lately. She was explaining that considering recent circumstance, she would give Allison more time, but said that Allison became very upset. She accused Ms. Simpkins of showing favoritism because her mother was Secretary of State, and that she didn't need special treatment. She raised her voice at the teacher becoming more and more distraught over time.

Henry sighed. "She was angry because her teacher was going to give her an extension?"

"Yes." The principal sighed. "Ms. Simpkin's assessment of the situation was that Allison was already upset when she came to class. She had noted that she had been withdrawn since the bombing - her other teachers had noted the same thing."

"When the secretary called she mentioned something about Allison throwing books around the room?"

"She just swept her hand across the desk, knocking her books to the ground and stormed out of class. She didn't throw them or do anything violent."

Henry sighed, leaning forward his elbows resting on his knees. "She has been really struggling over this. It isn't easy to realize your mother is a fairly vulnerable target to world violence." He shook his head, "She was alone watching the news. She saw it as it was happening."

"Our counselor tried to speak with her, but Allison was very reluctant to talk."

"Well, that's Ally." He sighed. "Of course none of this excuses her being disrespectful and disruptive."

"Ms. Simpkins seemed to to think otherwise. She doesn't think Allison needs to be punished and neither do I. Clearly, she is having difficulty navigating this act of violence against your family. I do think it best you take her home today, and see if you can't manage to find some way for her to process everything. We are supportive of her, and your family. If she needs a few days off, or an adjustment of her schedule to allow for counseling - we can work those things out."

"We appreciate that." Henry nodded his head.

"And of course, as you know, all matters involving your children are completely confidential. Speaking to the press is grounds for immediate dismissal of our staff, however, I cannot offer the same confidence when dealing with our student body. In the age of technology, it is entirely possible for a student to make an innocent post. If the press is keeping an eye on that sort of . . ."

"I understand. Let's hope they are distracted by something of significance."

"Yes." Principal Applegate rose, a hand outstretched. "She's waiting for you in the Vice Principal's office. I thought she could benefit from some privacy. Take her home, and please let us know what we can do to help her."

"Thank you for being so compassionate." Henry said, rising and shaking his outstretched hand. He was led across the hall to a smaller office. The principal nodded at him and disappeared toward the front, no doubt to explain to Evan that his rights to have long hair were nonexistent while on campus. He paused thoughtfully outside the door. In some ways, Allison was their easiest child - she nearly always wore her emotions on her sleeve. When she was younger, she was never sulky or broody - generally cheerful and fearless. She had become quieter with the onset of her teenage years - slipping into the black hole of teenage secretiveness and solitude, but even then she wasn't difficult to draw out. If you waited until she was ready - she was more than happy to talk things out. He offered a brief prayer that she would finally be ready and then pushed open the door.

She sat with her feet tucked up under her on the couch. She was staring out the window. Although she showed no sign of tears, it was clear from the hunch of her shoulders that she was upset.

"Busy day, Ally?" He asked leaning against the doorway.

"Dad!" She turned toward him startled. "Oh, they called you." He could tell by the tone of the last word, that he was not the McCord she was hoping to see just now.

"Your Mom's in a meeting with the President." He explained.

"Figures." Allison muttered. She rose quickly grabbing her backpack. "I guess I'm suspended."

"No, but you do get to spend the day with me." He told her.

"What did you do? Why aren't I suspended?" She demanded.

"Probably because the staff here has actual compassion for you."

"What? Did you do tell them their taxes would be audited if they suspended me?"

"You are starting to sound like Jason." He shook his head. "Your mother's realm isn't domestic affairs, and you ought to know by now, I haven't got that kind of influence over her. No one does."

"Whatever. Let's go." She stormed past him, and he followed her out wishing he had a meeting with the president.

***MS***

"It is good to have you back, Bess." President Dalton said as she settled onto the couch.

"How are you feeling?" Russell Jackson asked her. He sat across from her, with the president between them.

"I'm much better, thank you." She responded.

"I know your staff has kept you informed but we have been in contact with both embassies. Your deputy will no doubt want to debrief you. He felt that certain messages needed to be sent and . . ."

"What message? That if an enraged father comes after someone, a nation is punished?" She shook her head. "This wasn't a political attack. I don't care what they claim on Nightline. And it wasn't an attack on me." She sighed. "The only message we need to send is that we stand with Ambassador Yamaldi's wife and that we support the rights of women in Yemen - a stand we've held since long before you took office."

"I agree." President Dalton said. He nodded at Russell. "Set up a meeting with Steven. Make sure he understands that Secretary McCord is fully back at work, and will take over."

"May I add something, Mr. President?" Elizabeth asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"Of course."

"Be sure to thank him for his service and managing the difficult days after the bombing. His reactions are understandable, especially when you take into account the slow intel that he received. I probably would have made some of the same statements."

"I doubt that." Russell told her.

"I don't want this to cause a rift. We need to work together as a cohesive team." She explained.

"I agree, and Steven is a reasonable man. I know he regrets his first harsh statements - although they were understandable at the time. It isn't easy to keep a measured response when one of your own has been attacked." President Conrad rose. "We are glad to have you with us again, Bess. But don't over do it. Listen to your doctors."

"I will, sir. Thank you Mr. President." She nodded at him, and at Russell, before exiting the oval office.

***MS***

"Blake?" She called out to him from where she sat at her desk.

"You could use that phone, you know." Blake said stepping into her office.

"I could see you hovering outside the doorway." She pushed her glasses down so she could see him more clearly. "Did you get the Venezuelan Ambassador on the phone?"

"He's at lunch. Which is what most people are doing right now, eating. I am supposed to remind you that you've got the meeting with the Foreign Minister of France at 12:45, so you need to eat something now."

"I'm not all that hungry." She said turning back to the papers in front of her.

"Ah, yes, well," Blake hesitated. "I'm now instructed to remind you that you had a deal." He set a boxed salad on her desk.

"Blake!" She looked up at him shocked. "You are my guy. I hired you! Where's your loyalty?"

"I understand that, Madam Secretary, but it was pointed out to me that while I may be 'your' guy, Dr. McCord has been trained to kill people with his bare hands."

"He's retired, and a Professor of Religion! He would just as soon kick Gandhi as harm you, Blake." She shook her head. "I'm ashamed you caved so easily."

"You should eat, all the same." Blake offered. "It would be a shame to waste that salad. There are people around the world starving even as we speak."

"Betrayal and guilt - on my first day back." She reached for the salad.

"Well, it's the White House, Madam Secretary." Blake offered with a shrug.