OK - READERS, IT'S TIME TO ADMIT SOMETHING - I DO NOT KNOW EVERYTHING. I KNOW MOST OF YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT - BUT THIS CHAPTER WAS FAR OUTSIDE OF MY COMFORT ZONE. I'M GOING TO NEED YOU TO SUSPEND DISBELIEF. I WANTED THIS TO GO THIS WAY FOR MY STORY. I CLAIM IN NO WAY TO HAVE ANY EXPERIENCE IN THIS, WHETHER THIS IS REALISTIC OR NOT. PLEASE DON'T DO WHATEVER THE FANFICTION VERSION OF ME. IM SURE I GOT DETAILS WRONG. SO JUST SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF OR REALITY AND ENJOY THE STORY PART OF THIS CHAPTER. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!


"All I'll say is that you have to have an open mind."

Elizabeth looked up from her phone where she'd been reading through the newest onslaught of emails since she'd left the office only five minutes before. She looked over her glasses at her husband seated in the seat facing her in the motorcade. "Really, Henry? That's all I get?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I promised Emma I wouldn't tell you."

"Well, whatever it is, it sure had my detail balking at it." She said, locking her phone and sliding it into her jacket pocket. "They complained about all the ins and outs the entire day."

"But they didn't say a word about what it was, right?" Henry asked, more to the window to the driver behind him than to Elizabeth.

"They were good about that." She agreed. Then sat back in her seat, trying to read her husband's smug face. "Honestly Henry, you only just got back yesterday, and you've already gotten her to agree to see me?"

"What can I say, I'm good." He said smugly.

"That you are, Dr. McCord." Elizabeth smiled, "Well, at least she's seeing me, despite the weird secrecy. What exactly was she afraid of? Me cancelling at the last minute?"

"I think she was afraid you'd tell her no." He said plainly. "But, whatever you think about it, Elizabeth, you've got to be ok with it."

Elizabeth hated being on the outside. Sure, she was overjoyed that Henry had been able to connect with their daughter during their time at the farm. From what he'd told her, they'd had a productive conversation – one that they'd needed to have for a while. And she wanted to dub Henry the "miracle worker" for getting Emma to agree to an hour each week where Emma wouldn't pretend that Elizabeth didn't exist.

But she wasn't keen on the fact that it was one hour. One hour a week. Everything else remained the same. And from the last day and a half, the icy separation hadn't changed one bit.

"Elizabeth, I wish you could've seen her. She was in her element on the farm. And…" He said with pride, "You would've been amazed with what a great rider she is."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. Then quietly snapped, "Well I would've loved to see her but apparently I'm the physical manifestation of Satan to our daughter."

She couldn't look at him. She knew it was jealousy. And that it wasn't fair her jealousy was directed at him. It wasn't his fault that Emma had been more open to connect with him than her. But it still hurt. And she was tired of hurting. So it came out as resentment.

She felt his hand on hers as he leaned over and tried to comfort her, "Babe, listen." She looked at him, hating how he knew exactly what she needed, "It's not going to just change overnight. But after this week, I know…" He emphasized, "I KNOW it will change."

She swallowed hard, and squeezed his hand, "Believe for me, will you? Cause right now I'm having a hard time."

"Always." He comforted. When the motorcade pulled to a stop, he looked out the window and said with excitement, "We're here." Then, gravely, he added, "Remember…"

She unbuckled and said, "I know I know, be cool."

When her detail opened the door for her, she had to say the words out loud to herself when she saw where they were. "Be cool."

But when she looked back at Henry she couldn't help but ask, "Henry, why am I meeting my daughter at the CIA's indoor shooting range?"

He set his hand on her shoulder, "Be cool. That's your only job tonight. Don't freak out."

"You're going to pay for this later." She said snidely, then offered him a small smile as they walked into a place she knew well but never expected to take her sixteen-year-old daughter.

They walked in and she saw Emma leaning over the gun cabinet, pointing down and asking her security detail head, Agent Hensley, "Is this the one you carry?"

"No, we have the Glock 19." He replied, leaning over and pointing to the one that matched the one in his holster. Then he joked, "What, are you going to try and outshoot me?"

Elizabeth watched as Emma looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye and said, "What, you afraid of a kid shooting better than you can?"

Be cool. Elizabeth reminded herself, but also put another thing on her mental checklist – run a check on Agent Hensley.

"So, I haven't been here in a while" Elizabeth said, announcing herself to the young people leaning against the gun case. Emma turned around, which shocked Elizabeth that she even acknowledged her presence.

Then Isabelle stood up from behind the cabinet, holding the two handguns that Emma had been pointing at. "Bess, so good you can join us."

"Isabelle?" Elizabeth exclaimed, then looked at Henry and back to Isabelle before asking, "What are you doing here?"

Stepping out from behind the cabinet, Isabelle shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well, when my goddaughter says she wants to learn how to shoot a gun, where else would I be?"

Shocked. Elizabeth had not expected to be at the place she'd trained years and years ago. When Henry had said to keep an open mind, she assumed they'd be going to some hipster restaurant with vaporized food or something – not the shooting range for one of the top-secret agencies in the country. Henry must've been reading her mind because she felt his hand supporting her back. All she wanted to was ask Emma why on earth she wanted to learn to shoot. She was never more twenty feet away from someone with a gun – a trained agent with a gun – why did she need this?

"I hope you don't mind, Mom." Emma said, and Elizabeth's attention was directed back to her daughter. And hearing Emma call her "Mom" was enough for Elizabeth to suspend disbelief and figure out how to go from here in the situation. "I just thought it would something fun and different than what Dad suggested."

"Monopoly." Henry said, "Now I see how that might be lame compared to this."

Elizabeth swallowed her uncertainty, and, to Emma, said, "I don't mind. I'm just surprised."

Isabelle walked over to her and handed her earplugs and a box of ammo. "Just like old times, huh Bess?"

"Yes, but with many more onlookers." Elizabeth said, gesturing to her detail. Then to Matt, she asked, "How are we working this so you don't tackle me in the middle of this the second you don't recognize where the shots are coming from?"

It seemed they had everything worked out. They had the whole range to themselves. Henry was banished to his own section, and Isabelle was on the other side of Elizabeth and Emma. Everyone was given earplugs, and Emma was given the most intense gun safety class by Matt that Elizabeth had ever seen. It wasn't until Matt had been in the booth with Emma shooting blanks, teaching her how to put the safety on whenever she wasn't shooting, and insured that Elizabeth was wearing a bulletproof vest too that they even let Elizabeth in the booth with Emma.

While they were watching Matt explain things in a severe tone to Emma, Isabelle stood back and watched with Elizabeth.

"Izzie, why on earth does she want to come do this?" Elizabeth asked quietly. "When I got back from Iran, or even just being in combat, the last place I wanted to be was a gun range."

Isabelle looked at Elizabeth and said, "Think about it, Bess. She never had any power."

"I know." Elizabeth said, "But it's not like she's going to get to carry a gun. Ever. Why on earth…"

"You remember how many times we came here as recruits and agents?" Isabelle asked, leading Elizabeth to reach the conclusion. "And remember Turkey? Short term mission – our cover was blown. And we had to get out of there. We were stuck for hours waiting for transport. And at any minute we could've been captured?"

Elizabeth would never forget that. She nodded.

"Remember what we both did when get got back after you went home and hugged your family?"

"We came here."

"And we shot enough rounds into targets to finally feel secure again." Isabelle concluded. Then she gestured to Emma, "Maybe that's what she's looking for."

Elizabeth understood. She might not have liked it. But, she was going to spend time with her daughter. And maybe help in some way find power.

Once Matt was secure enough that Emma could at least not accidentally kill the President, he let her step into the booth.

And she stood there. Unsure what Emma wanted her to do.

"Do you remember how to shoot a gun?" Emma asked.

Elizabeth laughed and said, "I sure do. That doesn't really leave you after countless hours of training."

Emma set the gun on the table, safety on, and then looked at Elizabeth, "Show me."

"Ok, I can do that."

And she picked up the gun, the cold metal feeling like a distant memory that her body remembered. Without thinking, she held the handgun high on the grip so that the recoil would be directed back to the hand and arm in a straight line. With two hands, she applied pressure from front to rear. She faced the target squarely with her feet spread shoulder-width apart, compensating for the heels she was wearing. She brought the gun directly up in front of her eyes and both arms fully extended. She stared through the sight, finding the triangle and she pulled the trigger. Three times. One. Two. Three.

The sound, even with the earplugs, filled the entire space. And she stood there, holding the gun for a second before she let her breath out, and turned to Emma.

Flipping the safety on, she set the gun down. Then looked at her daughter, who was watching her with her mouth wide open.

They both took of their earplugs, and Emma said, "Yeah, you can shoot."

"We did get lessons at Langley." Elizabeth said.

Emma looked from the gun on the table to the target and to Elizabeth. And, sheepishly, Emma asked, "Can you teach me?"

Something Elizabeth never thought her daughter would ask her – to teach her how to shoot a gun. But she nodded, and said, "I sure can."

Elizabeth stepped back so Emma could stand in the center of the booth. Emma picked up the gun, and tried to hold it with both hands, but her left hand was giving her trouble. Elizabeth, without thought, reached around Emma's shoulders and touched her hands, trying to help adjust it.

Emma's body jerked violently at Elizabeth's touch. Elizabeth recoiled and apologized. "Emma, I'm so sorry! I just…"

"No." Emma interrupted. She shook her shoulders out and looked at Elizabeth. "It's just a reaction sometimes. It's not.. you're fine." Then turning her attention back, she said, "Show me how to hold it."

Elizabeth tried to keep her mouth from falling open, and instead moved to helping Emma. Due to Emma's injured hand, she said, "If you can, pry your left fingers around the grip, and that will be your stabilizing element." She instructed, and then gently helped mold her fingers around the barrel. "Good, now use the middle part of your first finger – use the middle right where your nail ends" Emma listened, and Elizabeth said, "Good, use that to squeeze the trigger in a second." Then she moved to Emma's stance. "Feet shoulder width apart. Good." Then she moved up to her shoulders. "Center yourself from your chest, and hold your arms out, not locking them but keeping them straight." When Emma did that, Elizabeth set her hands on Emma's shoulders and said, "Now relax. Settle into your breathing." When she felt Emma's shoulders relax but not give out on her, Elizabeth reached over and flipped the safety off. Then she said to Emma, "Keep your eyes open. Look down the sight. Find your target, and then pull the trigger."

Before stepping back, Elizabeth secured Emma's hearing protection in place. Then she waited.

Even with hearing protection on, the sound was loud. And Emma's body recoiled with the shot. Elizabeth held her hand up to steady Emma's back.

It was quiet for a second.

And then Emma turned the safety back on, set the gun down, and looked back at Elizabeth, her eyes wide and a smile on her face. "Did I do it right?"

Finding her daughter wanting her approval was enough to bring emotions to Elizabeth's eyes. But she pushed them down. And she nodded. "You shot a gun, that's for sure. How did it feel?" At the same time, she hit the return button for the target to come to them.

"It felt…" Emma watched the target, "like I wasn't small anymore."

Maybe Isabelle had been right. And Elizabeth looked over at Isabelle, who wouldn't let her live down the fact that she, had in fact, been right.

"That's a good feeling." Elizabeth agreed, and then leaned forward and said, "Now we work on getting the shot ON the target."

Emma laughed. She laughed. Elizabeth couldn't believe it. Then Emma said, "Ok. Let me try again."

And for the next hour, Elizabeth was on another planet, back at a place she'd trained, interacting with her estranged daughter, one who wouldn't look at her any other time during the day, but here she was teaching her how to shoot.

Elizabeth didn't know what happened, but she was sure this was somehow in the good category of repairing their relationship.