-season 4 episode 2 inspired. Hope you like it.
Elizabeth
Ayah Asnani. That's the name of the little girl my motorcade hit. She's younger than Jason. It's my responsibility because we went to Libya on my directive. No one wanted me to come here. Conrad and Russell are worried, Ted is unimpressed and Henry is concerned this will be like Iran. I don't like to worry my loved ones, my colleagues, my friends- but this is the job sometimes. I have been at it a few years now and I think one of the reasons Conrad wanted me was my ability to work with the Middle East. Russell once told me I had brass balls. If that is some sort of code for being able to stand in front of the patriarchy and argue for what's right and what's needed; then I suppose it is a compliment. I just don't want to put up with anyone's BS when it comes to saving lives. I think Jay and Nadine understand.
As a mom and a human, I yearned to pick that little girl up and take her to a hospital but DS says I am the valuable one, that I could be shot or taken hostage. When I spoke to Henry that was what his point was as well. He asked me to be careful, and wanted to know if I was hurt. Thankfully he understood why I was upset and he offered to pray for Ayah. I banged my knee, but that's nothing. I wonder if perhaps I shouldn't have called home, but I needed my husband and his support. This little girl was hurt by my motorcade and she has a family. If someone ran over one of my kids... We came close once with Alison. She darted into traffic one afternoon while I was fighting with Jason's stroller and the sound of screeching brakes was enough to rattle me for a long time. She was scared and started to cry, and I took her in my arms and sobbed my heart out. That was thirteen years ago and I still tear up when I think about it. Children are precious and life is fragile. Every time the kids or Henry are hurt- I feel so helpless. I think about Will being alone with Mom and Dad when it happened. Losing the people that I love- that's my kryptonite. I doubt I am alone in feeling this way. Human psychology being what it is- we bond with those we love with and know intimately. My circle has grown exponentially with this job. I feel responsible for so many of the world's children. We rammed into this child, just going home at night. Well, this little girl isn't going to be left to die. Henry is worried about me. He pointed out that I am a valuable target, and that I was just in a car accident. I love his concern, because it never even occurred to me that we could be hurt. I did bang my knee a little- and Russell had a bird because Ted told him I got out of the car. So I was scolded by all the men in my life and I will behave myself until the next time. I figure if I am not getting into trouble than perhaps I am not doing my job properly. What I haven't yet figured out is if it is because I am a woman; or because I am a creative thinker. It's likely both. I have spoken to Henry about it and he says that I am atypical with a desire to help people beyond my boundaries. That I was born this way, raised this way and became this way because of what happened to my parents- and what occurred afterwards. No therapy, just boarding school and a lot of pressure to grow up. I was always close to the vest and this all made me curl into myself. I coped by being a good student, a responsible big sister and a service minded person. Henry points out that I never had anyone to keep me safe during the years when I needed it the most; and that my time at CIA compounded the need to be fearless, to take a risk to help save the greater good. He has this propensity as well; and so we both essentially forget that we are mortal and scare the crap out of our loved ones. I laughed at his turn of phrase. Henry is brilliant and he's almost always correct in his theories. He admittted to me that as feminist as he is; he does have a desire to protect me and that when he takes a risk it's fine- but if I take one, he worries. He told me that over the years Russell, Conrad and others have mentioned my "brass balls" and he is normally very proud of me. "Just be careful " because he adores me, and I promise to do my best. I understand this because I feel the same way about him. I am his and he is mine. We've been one soul for about thirty years now- and neither of us wants this to change. Nadine said there is a good bottle of whiskey in her room, and with Ted's permission- we are going to get a wee bit shit faced. Nadine's words. I enjoy her company- she's had an interesting life. We both had a rough day, and Nadine says Ted is afraid of her. I believe it. My first few weeks on the job I knew she hated me. It took solving the mystery around Marsh's death and me not having her charged that garnered her respect. She grew fond of me and my family that first year. My impression was that she was an incredible woman who had her heart broken by a flawed man. It's good to have a work friend. We spend a lot of time together and we need to get along. I do long for Isabelle and Juliet. I rarely speak about it, but it is lonely being this busy woman. I have Henry and the kids- but sometimes I really want to talk about Henry and the kids. I certainly can't cosy up to Russell and whine about dirty socks, axe body spray, and corns. I went for a pedicure last month with Alison and she told me my feet were gross. Of course they are. I live in heels, and Blake hates it when I kick them off and go barefoot. I did not have time to shave my legs last week and when I tried to wear a skirt on Thursday Jason asked me if Sasquatch was the new fashion. I love my son and his wit, but that was embarrassing. Henry tried to help but he failed miserably. "If your mom isn't shaving we need to respect that." I pulled pants out of the laundry, Febrezed them and hoped for the best. I am not going to tell that to my chief of staff, but I need someone to share the lighter side of everyday mom life with.
Jareth
Nantucket mist is an interesting name for a paint colour. Not sure that the apartment needed it- especially since it caused a huge fight between Stephanie and me. I did come across as overbearing and I did accuse her mom of running a dynasty. Perhaps Stevie and I have issues we need to
discuss. I feel as though we are fighting more often than we are relating as a couple. I resent her job- I am a wee bit jealous that she is giving up law school for this intern position; and that her family seems supportive of it all. I know she has a close family and perhaps it is this that I find the most difficult. My parents love me conditionally it seems. It's all about the title and the prestige. They dislike the forthright and blunt Americans. Stephanie does things her way. She speaks her mind, shows her affections and expresses herself. We Brits don't like this information sharing much. In wealthy families we discuss boring ideas and rely on customs and discipline to guide us. I am torn because I am attracted to Stephanie and I like her family. I worry that I am a wet dishrag- unsure of my place in America as a disinherited physics fellow who hangs on to America's most popular family. I read the press. Internationally Elizabeth McCord is well liked and well known; yet to many old school diplomats she is seen as a woman who does not know her place. She argues with powerful men, she is beautiful yet brutal. Kind and vulnerable where she should be more concerned about her looks. Stevie tells me her mum is in Libya negotiating peace amongst warring factions. I am to keep quiet about this of course, yet I consider the situation to be unsafe and I wonder if my fiancée has such desires for her future. I am still old fashioned for some things- and my wife should be the one to raise the children. I am meant to support them- but as soon as they are in school - Stevie can certainly pursue a nice sensible career. I understand my views are outmoded and in fact I am trying to adapt. The fact that Stevie works at the epicentre of the world makes me proud, and she's experienced some dangerous situations. She is beautiful and the McCords have been nothing but kind to me. Am I evolved enough to be in their family? I did rather enjoy learning about American Football. The little brother is fascinating- if I were to go against my parents at his age I would have been caned frequently; and sent off to a proper school. Henry McCord is widely known in religious and philosophical circles in Europe - he is a scholar that my father would respect. My cousin Pippa would absolutely adore the middle girl- Alison and they could delight in fashion, gossip and the shops.
Well I suppose the only proper thing to do is to finish painting the flat and to apologize to my fiancée and hope that this row is one we can put in our past.
Dmitri
Talia is right. I put her in a dangerous position sending her out to purchase narcotics for me. And I am deceiving Dr McCord- he is a good man. He and his wife Elizabeth secured my freedom. I need to get help. I am blowing my opportunity to work in Intelligence. I cannot go back to hiding in Arizona as Alex Marenov. At least this version of Marenov is in DC. He has a chance to do something valuable. I must do as Talia says. I must confess to Henry that I have a problem. He can help me and then when I am well I can repay him and the Unites States for saving my life. I do like Mrs. McCord- Elizabeth. She is strong and kind. She is the one who learned I was being held in the gulag and it was her dedication to get me back because she did not wish to sacrifice me in the first place. She fought with the President. She thanked me for the work I did to stop Maria Ostrov from starting another World War. We spoke at length on the plane. Her eyes see through to your soul. She knew it was wrong to leave me to be captured, to give me up. She believed I was dead. As she told her story on the ride home from Vartius - home. America is my home- but The Mrs Secretary of State- she surprised even her husband as she explained what had happened between her and Minister Avdonin. How she felt compelled to make it right. Her husband had tears in his eyes and at one point when they thought I was asleep he took her hands and told her he was blown away. She brushed aside his tears and kissed him. He told her he had a connection to me he couldn't explain. She said that was only a part of her decision to find out if I was alive. She said I was brave and deserving and young. She said it had been eating at her from the moment she knew I was in trouble. I guess he hadn't known that because he hugged her tightly and told her he was a lucky man; and that he was very proud of her. He apologized for things I didn't understand. She was crying too and there was no way I was opening my eyes and getting involved in whatever that was. It felt nice, to hear them talking - and I pretended I was a small boy listening to my parents talking about adult things when Talia and I were supposed to be asleep. I know the McCords have children. These children are lucky. Dr McCord would talk about them at the War college and he had pictures in his office. I am a little older than his oldest daughter. She looks very beautiful.
I hope this addiction of mine won't cause Henry to hate me. I don't know how to fix this- but I cannot blow this opportunity. I feel useful again and I am alive, with Talia - who is cured, and we are in America.
Henry
It has been a very long week and I can't sleep. So I'll journal a bit. Elizabeth, thankfully, came home from Libya in one piece with another adventure under her belt. My wife has a very big heart and she is effective at getting people to listen to her because she's crazy enough to do things that should terrify most people. After promising me that she would be careful, she ended up on the Medivac chopper that was crossing through a no fly zone. Her reasoning? To prove to the Asnani's that if she could take the risk then the parents could too. No one would shoot down the Secretary of State right? As soon as she said it she saw my face, and sighed. She admitted that sometimes she can be impulsive. "Henry they weren't going to get on the chopper. You would have done the same thing!" I told her that as long as God had Elizabeth McCord on his side the world would be just fine. I might have a heart attack, but other peoples children would be fine. Her voice got gravelly as she assured me that Ted had tattled to the White House and Conrad was so furious he told her to wait until Monday morning to come in. That made me chuckle; until I remembered that my ass was about to get handed to me over Dmitri. She was concerned- and my heart nearly burst as she took my hands and kissed them. Her advice? Listen, look really sorry and own your choice, take your medicine, offer a solution. Then she pointedly asked me if we should start painting right away, to get the first coat on. I nodded, and was about to leave the room when she called my name. She had slumped down on the bench by the bed and was crying. I pulled her into my arms worriedly. She started rambling. How is it that she of all people, is the Secretary of State? How is it that she served as acting President for a day? How is it that everyone thinks she is fearless when she's scared out of her mind every time some despot gets in her face and threatens her and America. She was a well behaved kid who now gets scolded by POTUS on a weekly basis. She neglects me, the kids, the housework, her friends - not that she has any because they are all dead or in jail- and that she needs a confidante. Something about girl talk with Nadine and good whiskey. I just held her and rubbed her back. When she was done I tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed her forehead. I reminded her that she was courageous as hell for getting up every morning and doing what she did. I admitted that it wasn't easy watching her work so hard, and risk so much and that we all were guilty of thinking she could handle anything as long as she was laughing. I confessed to keeping in touch with Blake and Nadine when she was working long hours. Her blotchy face lit up at that- she was touched because I still check up on her. I also assured her that she neglected us as much as every working mother did. I reminded her that the kids were adults now, and that she was valued and loved. Her job was sometimes too much; but we had already hashed through the worst of it. We didn't have a lot of time for friends and fun; but we did spend most Sundays together as a family. Her eyes looked hopeful as I reminded her that Stevie was at the White House and engaged. Alison had chosen Bayard on her own and was happy. Jason was driving, dating and doing well in school. So her job wasn't perfect- but she was managing just fine. She sniffed and lay against me. I cuddled her and it occurred to me there was something she needed to hear- something I had never told her. I pulled her into my lap and made eye contact. No one could actually speak for Ben and Suzanne Adams; but if they were the wonderful people she and Will adored so much- then they would be very proud of how she turned out. I saw a switch flip inside of her then- as if this had been what she wanted to know. A missing puzzle piece to complete Elizabeth.Her voice was husky as she asked if I was sure. I told my wife that anyone who couldn't see how well she navigated her way through life and how much good she accomplished would have to be crazy. I was pretty sure that the Adams family wasn't crazy. She picked at some imaginary lint on my shirt, and smiled softly. She kissed me deeply, and hopped up- energized once more. She began changing into old clothes and told me that we had to get moving if wanted to get the first coat of paint on the wall.
As we got to work, the conversation flowed. We have done housework and repairs together for about 30 years and we move like we are one person. Elizabeth insisted that she wanted to hear about my week, so I shared my struggles with Dmitri and we both commiserated over the fact that we were both going to be in trouble come Monday morning. Elizabeth was only half joking when she said that we got yelled at more in these high powered jobs than we ever did as kids. Just then Stevie walked in, and she thanked us for the paint. She looked sad, but to be honest that's when Elizabeth began throwing shade on my painting skills. I did what any loving husband would do in this situation and I painted her nose. My wife is sexy as hell when she's in old clothes. She's adorable in glasses and no makeup; and I am so in love with her it still hurts to breathe sometimes. After such a crazy week, we needed to be silly; and Elizabeth did not disappoint. She gleefully attacked my shirt. We did that for about five minutes and suddenly she was in my arms, and I was kissing her like my life depended on it. She responded with the same urgency and we soon found ourselves in the shower - making out like newlyweds under 25. We had to stop when the hot water ran out. We may not be those newlyweds anymore, but shower sex seems to be keeping us young. I miss her when she's gone; I miss us when we are busy, because we have the most amazing love for one another.
So she has finally passed out and she's definitely feeling better. I am exhausted but I could not sleep. Writing though helps me get my feelings off of my chest. I think now- I can. I share my life with the incredible woman in this bed. I am truly blessed.
Fin for this entry