She briefly glanced at the elevator's counter. Six. Deciding that it would be enough time, she dug her phone out of her purse. Fifteen missed calls, three of them to voicemail. If it was important enough, they'd try again. Until she answered, or they'd get the idea that Blake was doing her outer office and there was a better chance of answering the call there.

Ignoring the calls, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and turned her attention to her messages. Sixty-seven messages. Wow, then it had been a quiet day today. It wasn't uncommon to get into the hundred messages in a morning. She exhaled with relief and scanned the names of the sender.

Paula Garcia, her cleaning lady, had written to tell her she couldn't make it tomorrow, so she wouldn't be in until the day after tomorrow. She like the woman, but sometimes she wondered about her correctness. She was as well as so not at home and Paula had a key. She should just come and clean whenever she wanted. She also wouldn't bother him, after all it was during the week and he went to work just like she did. She refrained from answering. The blue check marks would show her that she had read it and didn't mind.

After clicking away from the chat, an all too familiar name caught her eye. Earl. Opening the chat and seeing the picture of her beloved horse, she had to smile longingly. She hadn't been back to the farm in far too long. And suddenly she realized how much she missed her horse, her good friend, the farm and her old life. Reading Earl's message reinforced her decision to ask Blake for an afternoon off.

Your horse misses you. So do I, by the way. Looking forward to see you again.

Still in thought, she let her eyes glide over the display and saw the chat with Russell Jackson. After hesitating for a moment, her thumb doing a dance of indecision over the keyboard, until she decided to ask him.

Why is he coming?

She was about to put her phone back in her pocket when she felt it vibrate. After a quick glance at the elevator's counter, which showed the number two, she glanced at the phone again. She still had a moment.

Poll numbers are dropping + you're happy and need some time to relax.

God, was the man quick with replies. But little did Russell know. She would have been happy if she even had a good explanation for not coming home to him again soon and did't need to be fucked to be relaxed. She exhaled in frustration and leaned her head against the wall of the elevator.

Hearing the pinging that announced arrival on the first floor, she straightened up and stepped into the foyer after the elevator doors opened. She passed the security men and the check-out, which she and her bag were allowed to pass through without being checked, due to her office and the diplomatic immunity that came with it. It was a different story for her staff. They had to hand in their bags every day and take off belts, jewelry and then go through the metal detector and afterwards search everything back together.

Was she thankful that she was spared that. On the other hand, when she wasn't in the office building or the Oval Office, she was being watched and escorted 24/7 by her DS agents. Whether that was so much better, she dared to doubt.

Walking past her diplomatic security agents, who were waiting for her behind the check-out desk as usual, she nodded to Matt and Frank in greeting. "Well then. Off to Europe." In an over-friendly voice, she expressed her contained pleasure at being sent off again, barely back in the bulding.

As soon as Matt and Frank had come up beside her to escort her to her car, she looked to her left with a raised eyebrow, and Frank right in the eye with it. "Who do I have the honor of being with?"

"So far, Matt, Simon, Fred, myself and our partners from the EU will accompanying you." Came as a prompt reply from Frank. Hastily he added "We can change that though, ma'am."

"No, no, that's all right. In fact, I'm grateful that both of you and Fred are scheduled." She gave them both a quick smile before getting into the waiting SUV. It was common practice for not all of her agents to come along on her trips, instead relying on agents in the field. And since she didn't know Simon that well yet, she was only too happy to have the three of them also accompany her. "As you wish, ma'am." Replied Matt, before he closed her door.

While Frank sat down in the passenger seat next to Simon, Matt moved toward the car behind them, where Jay, Nadine, and Fred were already waiting for him, to follow the car in front of them to the airport. Glancing beside her, Elizabeth spotted Daisy sitting next to her in the back seat of the SUV. Actually, she had hoped she could close her burning eyes for the few minutes until the runway.

At the thought of sleep and who would be waiting for her at the plane, an abrupt tiredness overcame her once again. It really would be better if she could get a moment rest before playing the happily married Secretary of State next to her husband. When Daisy met her gaze, she seemed to sense Elizabeth's exhaustion.

"And this really can't wait another hour?" She asked, not particularly trying to mask her exhausted voice. Daisy could quietly tell she was done. Maybe she'd change her mind again and leave her alone.

"I just wanted to let you know that I've received word from a journalist friend of mine that there's already press on the taxiway." Elizabeth breathed in and out loudly. "I was afraid of it." Her head already turned toward the window, she added "Thank you for letting me know."

The motorcade had already started moving and the world outside the car was passing them by. She watched the people on the sidewalk. Part of her wished she could be one of them. Someone without arguments that could start a war if things went silly. Someone whose only conflict with her girlfriend was whether to have pizza or kebab for dinner tonight.

Slowly she closed her eyes. She was so tired. Every one of her muscles ached. Maybe she could close her eyes for another twenty minutes and try to forget the world around her. But her upper arm, which she used to prop herself against the window of the car, protested sharply in pain as she tried to rest her head on her shoulder and her weight against the door. She couldn't sleep like that. Sighing again, she first looked searchingly ahead at Frank and Simon, but then decided against asking them for one of their jackets to pad her arm.

A small movement of Daisy's made her turn her head toward her. "Oh, that's not necessary. It's all right." she quickly brought out of her mouth when she saw Daisy holding out her cardigan to her and smiling kindly at her. "Madam Secretary, please. I don't think it can hurt you to get some rest. You look really beat."

Elizabeth was already raising her voice in protest, but Daisy interrupted her again. "Don't argue." To punctuate her sentence, she thrust toward her the cloth jacket she had bunched into a roll. Somehow grateful after all, Elizabeth took the roll from her, but not without once again starting to protest. "But..."

"No buts. I have a spare jacket with me. You don't have to worry about wrinkling it." Elizabeth gave her a grateful smile and, after wedging the jacket between herself and the door as a cushion, exhaustedly slumped her head against the glass. No sooner had she arranged herself than her eyes fell shut and she just heard Daisy's voice, "I'll wake you up in time. Don't worry."

She really needed to pay her staff more. Blake had been on the raise list for a while, after the action just now, and since Daisy had agreed without hesitation to keep it quiet from the press, she should probably write her up as well. The only problem with that would be explaining it to Russell Jackson or the president…

Daisy looked at her pityingly. She really did seem exhausted to no end. No wonder, she hadn't seen the Secretary leave the office before her in ages. In fact, when she thought about it, she had been getting regular notifications on her cell phone every two hours for the past few nights that the Secretary had responded to mails, edited, set and deleted appointments. Then she must have already spent nights without sleep. Maybe she hadn't even been home. She shook her head sympathetically. Poor woman. Something was wrong. Something huge. But she didn't know what.

As she continued to rack her brains over it, she glanced out the window. They were almost there. Thinking about it, she was about to have to rouse Elizabeth from her much deserved sleep...

She didn't know much about the Secretary's private life. She was very secretive about that. But every time Daisy saw something of the private Elizabeth, it impressed her. She seemed so happy and content. Especially when she was with him. Her life seemed perfect. What more could anyone ask for. A steady job, at least for a safe four years, probably more than enough good pay, a beautiful house, a husband who cared and who loved you. She sighed. The Secretary's life seemed almost too perfect.

"Ma'am, it's about time. We'll be right there."

Awakened by Daisy's soft voice and her hand on her shoulder, she woke up. The sun was just slowly setting over Washington, DC. How she loved that view. The bright colors made the world seem so much more beautiful and friendly, they made her forget her worries and fears, usually. Today she was far too busy suppressing her rising panic and not thinking about who was about to be waiting for her.

When the motorcade reached the tarmac, she looked questioningly at Daisy, her eyebrows raised and an innocent smile on her face. "Can I be seen like this, or does it look like the Secretary just took a little nap?"

"Just fine." Daisy smiled back. "Let me just quickly..." she tucked in to Elizabeth and tugged her collar. "fix this."

"Thank you, what would I do without you?"

Frank's voice stopped Daisy from answering. "Ma'am, we're here. We got word that Director Munsey is already waiting for you."

A short look out of the window later "Oh, I see. Not only is Director Munsey waiting for me, so are the journalists." Casting a knowing glance at Daisy, she quickly followed up. "Don't blame yourself. It's their job." In an amused-sounding tone, she continued. "Besides, I think the public interest comes with my job, although no one has told me this."

Giving Daisy a smile as she stepped out the door of the SUV, she remained seated. "Thanks for the jacket. I'll see you in a minute."

Protocol dictated that all other members boarded her plane first before she boarded it, possibly with other diplomats or family members. Waiting for all of her associates, Jay, Nadine and Daisy, to disappear onto the plane, she leaned her head against the headrest and collected herself. In a moment, she would join him in front of the press and play the happy wife and Secreatary of State. She loved her job, but she could easily do without the attention it brought.

When Simon held the door of the SUV open for her, she put on her best Secretary of State smile and nodded at him gratefully. "Thank you."

Standing next to the car, She leaned over to him and briefly told him the one joke that was always told when a diplomat, the President, the Vice President, her or anyone else, got out of a car. It was a law never spoken aloud. The DS agents would laugh politely and the press could snap a photo that would show a trustworthy and friendly atmosphere with everyone talking at eye level. "Roll a ball around the corner and it falls over."

Simon chuckled and whispered "Honestly, the joke is only good the very first time. But when you hear it for the 500th time, and in between hearing it from the President of the United States, it can make you laugh again. I mean, how crazy is that? The President of the United States telling me a joke. And such a bad one at that."

Elizabeth smirked "I can imagine."

As a farewell, she tapped her forehead in a quick motion "See you in a bit." Then she turned away from him and walked toward him, who was already standing on the red carpet in front of the airplane steps.

Still smirking, she raised her head and tightened her shoulders. Just don't show any weakness. You can do this Elizabeth.

And with that, she took a confident step toward CIA Director Andrew Munsey.