When he saw the motorcade stop in front of the restaurant, he rose and reached for the buttons on his jacket to close them. He nodded to the waitress and went to the door to receive her. Their agents had already been here 10 minutes ago, checking everything and thus enabling them to have a 'normal' evening.

He watched as the open car door revealed first long, elegant legs with black pumps and then the rest of an elegantly dressed woman in a black pantsuit. The woman buttoned her blazer with a skillful movement and nodded to her bodyguards before walking towards him with brisk and confident steps and a smile on her face. He knew it was an honest smile, not the smile she wore when she was on Secretary duty. He smiled back and took a few steps toward her. "What a pleasure!"

She smirked and looked down sheepishly. "Sorry." Before he could say anything, she grabbed his shoulder and beamed at him. "But, I'm glad! I missed you." After a brief pause, she followed up a little more quietly "...and stood you up."

"Bygones. Long forgotten. Now I'm glad you're here and we have a really good chance of having a really nice evening." He held the door open for her and let her in.

As he walked behind her, he saw her wishing everyone she passed a good evening and giving a friendly smile. Good thing as Secretary of State you kind of don't have a choice either. He did the same. When she arrived at the table, she exhaled in relief. Without waiting for his question, she shrugged. "Thank goodness some senator or ambassador didn't come up with the same idea about going out to dinner in Fiala. I definitely don't feel like having any conversations about budgets or legislative bills right now." She knew as well as he did that he hadn't asked why she was relieved about it, but that he could understand. Every encounter with someone of influence has to be used, everyone worked on until they give their vote in Congress to the right thing. "I don't understand you." He smiled ironically.

Cutting him off with a wave of her hand, she spoke "Let's not talk about work right now. I haven't seen you in private for so long. Tell me." At that, she sat up bolt upright and placed her hands flat on the table. "Nah, it's your turn." He raised his hands defensively. "I heard there was something to celebrate." She looked at him questioningly before she remembered what he meant. "Hey, I said no work. But if it makes you feel any better, World War III ain't gonna break out. We've come to an agreement with the European Union and the banana-car dispute has been successfully settled."

"Ahhhh, my favorite diplomat." He couldn't blame her for the look of disdain. He laughed and she joined in.

After a moment of ordering drinks, he now looked at her seriously. "Honest now. Are you okay?" She smiled innocently at him. He could tell she was trying to get his mind off the subject. Before she could talk her way out of it, he continued. "I don't want to hear the usual: I'm fine. I'm okay...I want to really know how you are."

He waited a moment and thanked the staff for the drinks.

A little quieter he then continued "Before you flew to Brussels, I saw the hematomas. Elizabeth, I beg you, if you want to talk, or need help, I'm here." Her innocent smile froze. She looked at him in horror. The glint in her eyes had gone and he was sure that if looks could kill, he would not be among the living now. Maybe he shouldn't have brought up the subject so soon...

He slid a little on the chair and was about to apologize for his directness when she reached for the glass of aperitif, which she emptied in one go. Slowly she lowered the glass back to the table, where she turned it back and forth a few times before speaking with her head bowed, toward the tabletop. "The first time it happened was the night of my inauguration. At that time, I emphasized the 'specialness' of the day. But then it became more frequent and more severe. Maybe I was okay with it in the beginning, but the more often it happened, the more I felt I didn't want it. I don't want it now either. But it's happening. He goes to therapy, well, at least that's what he tells me. But even so, if alcohol is involved, then... I lock myself in at night. I haven't voluntarily slept in the same room as him for almost two years." After he looked at her silently and didn't say anything for a while, she slowly looked up. "I..., I..." She made an effort to stand up and leave. "...I have to go."

He stood up and put his hand on hers. In a soft voice he said "You're not going anywhere. We're going to my place now and then you're going to tell me all this again calmly and in order. And before you say anything now. We'll catch up on dinner someday." When he looked into her eyes, he saw what she had hidden so well, so deeply, for ages. He could see how broken she was, how tired and exhausted she felt. But there was something else. True, he had known her for ages. But never before had he seen so much of her, had she shown so much to him.

Her whispered thank you, almost broke his heart. He had the uneasy feeling that she had the feeling that nobody cared about her, the main thing was that she did her job well. Sadly, she was right about that, too. Some people don't care about Elizabeth, they only care about the Secretary of State. "Of course. Now let's go." he held the coat out for her and she slowly rose. He looked at her standing there wrapped in the coat she had casually thrown over her arm when she arrived. Full of misery and unhappiness, full of discontent and brokenness. When he threw her an encouraging smile, she nodded at him. But it still didn't escape him that she had pressed her lips together and was breathing harder and faster. "Come on, let's get you out of here first." The last thing she need was a panic attack in public.

Her grip on his arm, which he offered her, was firm also her face didn't betray the slightest that something was bothering her. Only the slight tremor that he noticed because he was standing right next to her betrayed that something was wrong. As they walked past the counter, the staff nodded to them and he signaled that the bill was on him. Tomorrow he would pay the bill, for today he enjoyed the privilege of being out with the Secretary of State.

She pulled her legs to her chest and pressed herself into the corner of the sofa, trying to make herself as small as possible. She would prefer to just disappear into thin air right now. It hurt to see her like this. But there was nothing else he could do for her. Everything he could do, he had done. He had asked her how she was really doing, given her a place of safety, and was ready to listen to her - really listen. After waiting several minutes for her to start talking, he was about to say something when he heard her trembling voice. "I can't do this anymore."

He fell silent. What could he say in reply? 'I told you that from the beginning,' or 'Oh, it can't be that bad.' Both are statements he would never say. Not because he didn't want to be rude, but simply because it wasn't true. She looked up. With tears filling her eyes, she sobbed "I don't want this anymore."

Still, he didn't know what to say on it. After he found her eye contact and she had to wipe the first tear from her face, he answered her timidly "You don't have to, Bess. No matter what exactly is going on, I'm 100% sure you don't have to." Gratitude sparkled from her eyes before she returned her gaze to the sofa's seating area. "But what will the people say?"

"If you're not comfortable with the way things are now, you have to do something about it. It doesn't matter what people will say." He could hardly believe that he was saying such a thing...

"I know, but ..." Mike interrupted her forcefully. "No buts. This is about Andrew, right?"

"Yes" Her voice was quiet. Mike leaned back in the chair that faced the sofa. After a brief pause, he said "He hit you, didn't he?" She nodded. "Once?" She shook her head. His stomach tightened. "Several times?" She nodded. It almost came up for him again. "Regularly?" Her shoulders began to shake and she nodded again. She lifted her head and looked at him with tears streaming down her face. "I can't do this anymore. Please help me."

He looked at her. He'd never seen her so distraught, and he'd known her for ages.

"The coffee is already made. Would you like eggs for breakfast?" Elizabeth blinked. She hadn't had breakfast made for ages. She rubbed her eye sleepily with her right hand. "I haven't had that in a long time."

"What, eggs for breakfast?" She had to grin "No, I mean I haven't sat down at the set breakfast table in a long time." He looked at her with a wry smile and lifted his shoulders in embarrassment. "Sorry." She ignored his condolences and slid onto a chair at the table. "I don't mind eggs."

While he continued to rattle around the kitchen preparing breakfast, she put her head in her hands and reviewed the evening. After she'd cried to Mike and told him the whole story from top to bottom, he'd offered that she could stay the night with him. She had gratefully accepted his offer and then had finally fallen asleep, completely exhausted, on the sofa in the living room.

"He just does it. At least, the first 2-3 times, he asked... Russell thought he was doing me a favor by having Andrew come along. Turns out: I've been plotting since I found out about this how to keep him off my back… I already had a panic attack on the plane there, so my agents, Nadine and Daisy had to help me. That might have been uncomfortable..."

"And the bruises I saw before you even left for Brussels?"

"Are from the one night before when I had to go home because I needed fresh clothes and Daisy had remarked that it would be better if I walked through my front door again at a civilian time..."

"You used to sleep in the office then?"

"...In the beginning, yes. Then at some point in hotels under a different name and mostly Frank checked in for me..."

"Do you have a plan yet?"

"...I just don't want any attention on it. Andrew and I have agreed from the beginning that private things stay private. But I also know that I'm the Secretary of State and I can't really have a divorce in private. Not to even start about Conrads plans on a second term..."

"For today, you're welcome to stay here. And then we'll see tomorrow. For now, go to sleep. It's almost 3 in the morning..."

"Thanks!"

"Not for this. Tomorrow at 9 we'll have breakfast. I'll talk to Blake and Fred."

She didn't even notice as he put the plate in front of her and sat down across from her. Only when he cleared his throat did she startle out of her thoughts. "Enjoy your meal." She lifted her head and returned the wish. "Thank you, likewise."