One shot based on a plot bunny bugging me today. All of this hate circling the world, and how we might forget that the leaders we have are real people, with families who love them. With COVID, the storming of the Capitol, our world is feeling concerned.

I own nothing Msec. This is just for creative fun for fans. Just review and that will make my day!

A bit angsty. More happy/ hopeful is in the works. Oh for time off to write all my ideas

Xox Brenda

...

Henry POV - February 2024

Sometimes I hate people. It's not my go to emotion but when I get phone calls telling me that someone has injured my wife and to come quick - well. Let's just be clear. I could cheerfully beat the daylights out of these people. These phone calls give me more stress "Dr. McCord it's ... the President has ... the Secretary has... your wife has..."

Prior to the call I was working in my office and missing my family a little. Stevie and Dmitri, Allison and Zach and Jason were all home for the long weekend. I have a grandson who is three years old and he is so much fun to play with. Benjamin Nikolai Petrov has a huge name and is currently going by Benjy. I have hot wheels in my office and he calls me Papa. Noodle is expecting twins in the spring and Jason is getting married next fall. Team McCord is not an empty nest - it's an expansion team.

Elizabeth is in her second term and was just re-inaugurated a few weeks ago. Life has been good lately. We have stressful jobs certainly but this term seems to have started off with less strife than her first one.

The world has gotten to know that my wife is an incredible President- they love her charm, her wit, her strong attitude that has so much human caring- and they have seen her make vulnerability acceptable in a leader. To quote my newest relative Mike B " the sausage gets made." She just gets that sausage made with slightly different perspective. Her popularity is high, but it's never at 100 percent and days like today are sobering.

So today was supposed to be a quiet Tuesday. I am writing remarks for a speech I have to give in a few days at a fundraiser for the arts. Our crew has gone home- the Petrov's to Georgetown, Jason and Marlene to Chicago and Noodle to New York. Elizabeth put on a cream blouse, black slacks and a red power jacket and headed out to some public event. After ten years of this - it was a standard busy Tuesday and we had plans to snuggle with the TV tonight.

But some jackass tried to hurt my wife and they got too close. Way too close.

It takes the whole ride to Walter Reed to even begin to calm me. Blake greets me in the lobby. He looks absolutely shaken and he's got her jacket in his arms. I take it and can smell her scent on it. I am escorted to the room where she's getting stitches and I have to blink back tears.

Her eyebrow is split and her cheekbone is bruised.

She tries to make light of it. Says that she supposes the Secret Service is going to stop her from shaking hands with families, holding kids in her arms and hugging moms. This woman came in for a hug and was supposed to be vetted but - well, "things happen Henry." Apparently this woman went in for a handshake but I stead slugged my wife with her left hand and she was wearing a ring. Pauline Rexford was arrested immediately but not before Elizabeth fell to the ground and scraped her hand and bumped her hip.

Not all women love having a "lady President " and Mrs. Rexford thinks the ERA ratification, and the new federal minimum wage of 15 dollars an hour, as well as affordable health care - she sees these things as anti American. That's what the reasoning is according to Jemele, her newest Press Secretary.

Elizabeth knows me and my thoughts. She quietly asks for privacy and everyone leaves the room except for Bill - who can't leave us completely alone. He goes to the door though and looks away. The illusion of privacy

I grind my teeth and gently examine her face. She lets me. I can see she's in a bit of pain. After 35 years of marriage we know each other so well not a word is needed.

She kisses my arm. Tells me she is OK. I have to admit that I know this will heal. I can't ask her to quit. She's been hurt riding horses, she was nearly killed in Iran, there was the time she fell down the stairs when she was in a hurry and her heel broke when we were newly married ...

I have been hurt too - life does that. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. She's received a few of these nightmare phone calls too.

I can feel her breath on my arm and her tears as well. She apologizes for scaring me. This woman is going to kill me. My heart is pounding and my stomach is in knots.

I open my eyes and trace her injury with my thumb. Ouch. She flinches and I know it's going to hurt like hell to put her glasses on for the next few days.

She's fine. For today. She wasn't shot, or blown up or stalked or stabbed or kidnapped ... all things that she's been up against in her time as CIA, as Secretary of State. She wasn't raped. Even as a professor she had that crazy student - Ray Merchant. She's told me some of her high school memories and of frosh week - no where is safe for women. She's been objectified too many times for me to remember and that alone shreds my heart.

Her words tell me she hates to have me receive these phone calls. Her voice is gravelly as she explains that she will be more careful, that her security will be beefed up.

I agree and help her out her jacket back on. She begins to fix her hair because the bun she has it in has become messy. She winced because her hand is bandaged and I ask Jemele to come back in. Elizabeth is grateful for the help.

I fix the tie that's attached to the blouse. Because when she walks out of here she's the President of the United States. She's fierce and she's a leader. Never mind the dust on her clothing, the blood that dripped onto her outfit and her slight limp from landing on her hip. America will see her walking away from it and it will reassure the nation.

I just want it noted someplace that she's human. A wife, a mom, a grandmother and a friend. I want the threat assessment to stop because this woman is so service minded - all she wants to do is help make the world safer, cleaner and more prosperous for all.

And no matter what - there are those who will want nothing more than to treat her like prey.

Tonight I am going to baby her - if she'll allow it. She'll want ice cream. Frampton on the stereo and a bath. I can do these things for her.

I wonder if when she is finished serving this country if the monsters will leave her alone.

I remember she's a woman. I remember that life has kicked her pretty hard already and I worry that she was set up for this because her parents died when she was so young.

I watch the press come at us and I notice she carries herself like a champion. Her detail surrounding us like a fortress

Or so it seems. Because nothing is one hundred percent and after today we are reminded of that.

I notice that she has my hand in a vice like grip - not unlike the day she gave birth to our first child; or the day I flew off to Desert Storm or the time she thought we had a mouse in our bedroom.

My wife is real and composite and complicated . I am thankful for that. As long as the phone call never begins with " we are sorry to inform you..." I suppose we can and will survive so much more. Between the two of us we have scars and stories. I cannot forget that I am human too.

Back at the residence I draw a bath while she reassures our children and her brother that this is just a really crazy experience. She tells them they do not need to come back - that it looks worse than it is; but if they would all like to come back next weekend and visit there is always room. Oh my love.

Before she climbs into the tub she examines herself in the mirror and laments about how this is going to require concealer. She mentions that she wants to go to the jail and visit the woman who injured her. I am going to let Blake and Jay tell her why that's a bad idea. She'll tell them it's important and she'll get her way.

She also admits that she is scared more often than she likes. If she thinks about all the dangers in our lives she will be unable to get out of bed. So she has decided to live as authentically as she can and to eat ice cream and lean on me when she can't face another minute.

Oh babe. I tell her that this is the definition of courage and she smirks at me. If ice cream is courage - there should be more of it- and Chef Cindy should buy it more often. My soul mate. Terrified to piss off our chef, but OK with flying to war zones. I should be more exasperated but I don't want her to change.

We cuddle on the couch and I keep an eye on the ice pack she's glued to her face. She notices that I am calmer and it's true. Her warm living body has that effect on me. I tell her it's time to take the ice away and she sighs. I kiss the top of her head and she huffs again - this time I get a whiff of chocolate. I constrict with fear again, and she lifts her head. She points out that she's here and wants to know what ridiculous nickname I have conjured up for this adventure. We sit up and I take her two hands in mine. I decide to play. We both need it. I mention that eyebrow scars are all the rage now and that she should shave a slit in it permanently. She says that she thinks Bruiser is a better fit for her. I resort to "wise Guy" and she says coyly that she knows she home when she hears that one. I feed her more ice cream and it makes her moan with pleasure.

The next thing I know is that we are pawing one another with feverish delight and we succumb to the most primal expression of love that we have. Who cares if we mess up the sheets? Spill ice-cream! I just want to connect with her completely and judging by her hands and her vocalisations - she feels it too.

In this moment we are just Hank and Elibet. Henry and Elizabeth. Two crazy kids in love.

Fin.