SHORT CHAPTER. ENJOY. GIVING YALL A BREAK FROM THE ANGST A BIT.


Elizabeth sat, drinking coffee. Which was a feat in and of itself. Sitting in the living room, her lower body covered in a warm blanket, her fingers wrapped around a warm mug of freshly brewed coffee. She didn't try and question where the time came from. It was so valuable, thinking about it only wasted it. She kept her to-do list out of her mind, instead focusing on the stillness of the early morning hour. Up to greet the sun, and not because she'd been up all night and had simply not made it to bed. Instead, she wanted some quiet time. Space before the day hit.

The last few nights, sleep had been reluctant to come. Worrying about Emma's visit with Conrad. Even the notion of sending her daughter off to meet her birth father felt foreign and misplaced in her life. It was reality hitting her idea of what their lives were. To her, Conrad had only been a second thought – a thought when Emma was in danger. Never someone who might have a place in their family life. As naïve as she felt thinking through it, she'd never considered a world in which her daughter would go off for visits with another family.

And she'd worried. Worried how Emma would respond. Would she spiral? It wasn't like they'd had the greatest relationship, most of which was based on the lie that Elizabeth had told her for her entire life. And while she'd pretended she was not bothered by it, the thought that Emma wanted to meet Conrad threatened what miniscule bit of sanity that their ground rules had brought to their lives.

She'd worried about Henry. While he had been the most understanding person in that position, Elizabeth wondered where his breaking point was. He'd always seen Emma as his daughter, despite knowing the truth. But the blatant acknowledgment of Conrad and Elizabeth's indiscretion as Emma asked to visit Conrad – Elizabeth tried to put herself in Henry's position. But she couldn't. She worried she could never be as good as her husband.

She'd worried about what Conrad and Lydia's reaction to Emma would be. Not because she cared about her relationship with them, but because she didn't want her daughter to get hurt. If Emma went into it with expectations that couldn't or wouldn't be met, would Emma recover? Would she yet again feel abandoned and alone? She knew Lydia hadn't been the most forgiving or even diplomatic in regards to Elizabeth. What would Emma's presence invoke upon her from the scorned Lydia Dalton?

All of this she'd worried about. And the entire afternoon Emma had been gone, she'd been a mess, trying to focus on the needs of the country, but she'd been constantly drawn back to wondering about her daughter. She'd told Blake that under no uncertain terms was he to let her know when Emma was back. Even in the situation room – a message must get to her.

And, to her surprise, Emma had arrived with not a care in the world. No breakdown. No fanfare. No excitement. Simply told her mother that she'd asked the questions she wanted and Conrad had answered. And that was it. When Elizabeth had probed about any future plans Emma might have with Conrad, Emma had looked at her like she was crazy. And shook her head. "Naw." Had been the reply. And then it was back to the silent treatment. While curiosity scratched at Elizabeth, she was at least able to calm her fears.

And last night, she had slept very well, waking in time to enjoy the morning.

Deep in thought, she didn't notice the opening of the bedroom door behind her. The only sign that movement was happening in the room was the fluffy, curious cat jumped up on the couch next to her. His green eyes looked from her face to the cup in her hands.

"Well, good morning, Zazu." Elizabeth greeted her daughter's companion, knowing where he was, Emma wasn't far behind. With brazen courage, he put his two front paws up on her arm and peered up to see what was in the cup. "I think you're too… cat to have coffee." Elizabeth chuckled, scratching the top of his head, loving the way his eyes closed and he pushed farther up to touch his head to her chin. "You're kinda cute."

But that didn't last long, as Emma walked toward the kitchen, and, since he knew that breakfast was on the way, he jumped across Elizabeth's chest and was off to follow his girl. She heard the can open, and Emma, with mock irritation, tell him, "Stop. You're going to get it everywhere. Just wait. It's too early for this alqarf."

Elizabeth smirked at her daughter's used of the word "shit" with her cat. She also was glad that Jason hadn't learned another language to try and slip cuss words by her. But – in the scheme of things, Emma's often vulgar language was the least of their worries.

She tried to stay calm and not get excited when Emma stumbled into the living room and fell sideways into the armchair, sleep still heavily in her eyes. Be cool she thought, channeling Henry's advice from the range. Elizabeth watched her daughter, her bedhead and wrinkled cat pajamas reminding her of the little Emma that had crawled into their bed when she was five, scared about the monster under her bed. Turned out, they'd had a mouse in the farmhouse.

Emma stretched her arms above her head, and asked, "What are you doing up?"

"Just trying to start the day off calm." She honestly said. Trying not to be excited that Emma was talking to her, and it was Friday, not a Monday night. "You're up early too."

Emma rolled her eyes, "We're normally up at this time because SOMEONE can't wait another hour for breakfast." As if on cue, Zazu bounded in, jumping up on Emma's lap. He settled down after a head scratch, content to clean his paws from his quick meal. Emma looked at Elizabeth, with faux irritation on her face, which turned to a smile when she leaned down and kissed his head. "So needy."

"There's coffee in the kitchen if you want some." Elizabeth offered. "It's fresh."

Emma shook her head, "Naw. I'm already jittery enough. Don't need anything else to make me jumpy." Elizabeth was amazed at how open Emma was discussing this. But she simply enjoyed hearing her daughter's voice.

Slowly petting Zazu, Emma started to ask something, then hesitated. Elizabeth kept her mouth shut, not wanting to set anything off. So she waited.

And after a few minutes, the words came. "Do you have… time later today?"

Time for what? She could talk now? What was going on? Was there something wrong?

But Elizabeth bit her tongue. "I always have time for you. What's up?" Be cool she repeated her mantra.

"Well…" Emma hesitated, then continued, "I just wanted to talk to you and dad about something. Together."

Elizabeth agreed, "Of course. How about this afternoon? I can have Blake contact your detail when we have time? Or we could do it now, if you want?"

Emma shook her head, "No, later sounds good." Then she smiled, looked at the cat, and said, "Well, come on weirdo. Let's go get dressed and do this thing."

As Emma's door shut, Elizabeth let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Then the door opened again, and Emma's voice came out, "Look at us, getting through a conversation without screaming at each other."

Elizabeth laughed, and put her fist in the air, "Victory!" And they both laughed.