A/N: For a guest.

Disclaimer: I do not own Madam Secretary or any of its characters used in this story. What is written here is or entertainment purposes only. No infringement is intended and this story is not for profit.

Summary: It's Henry's birthday.

Rating: K

Genre: Family

Henry swung an arm over, hitting soft sheets instead of the womanly curves of his wife.

He broke open an eye to find the spot beside him empty. He looked back to the bathroom to find the door ajar and the room empty as well.

He fumbled for the clock on his bedside table. It read 8 am. Where was his wife this early on a Sunday?

He ran a hand over his face and then got out of bed, trudging down to the kitchen.

Coming down the steps, he could hear muted whispers and giggles. More curious than ever, he continued his descent slowly and quietly.

"Ssh! You're gonna wake daddy," Elizabeth said softly, as their two daughters, Alison and Stevie, worked on something flat and wide that was shielded from Henry's view.

Alison giggled again, reaching for a bowl of what looked to be colored powder. "Daddy no hear!"

"Ali! You're making it dirty!" scolded Stevie as she set a small bottle of glitter glue down.

"Pretty, mommy?" asked Alison, looking up to their mom.

Elizabeth nodded, ruffling the brunette's hair.

Henry walked further in to the kitchen, not letting them become aware of his presence. From his experience, silence and giggles always meant the girls were up to something.

"I'm gonna run the blow dryer over it so that the glitter dries, okay?" said Elizabeth.

"And then daddy can wear it when he makes breakfast!" cried Stevie and then she brought her hands over her mouth, having realized she said it too loud.

She glanced back out of paranoia and found Henry standing sneakily behind them. Her hands dropped to her side, her jaw slackened, and then remembering to squeal, she turned around to cover whatever it was they were working on.

Henry sauntered closer, exchanging a playful look with his wife before asking, "Are my favorite girls trying to hide something from me?"

Stevie screamed some more and Alison copied her.

"Daddy, don't look!" yelled Stevie.

"Surprise!" said Alison, throwing her hands in the air, looking utterly pleased of being able to remember what they practiced earlier today.

Stevie sighed dramatically, giving up and letting Henry near their creation. It was an apron that said Best Chef Dad; random swirls, circles, and glitter dust were all over it thanks to Alison. It wasn't the best of aprons, not fit for commercial sale, but Henry felt warmth rise to his chest, a feeling of distinct pride he only began to feel when he became a father.

It was a wonderful birthday gift.

"Happy birthday, daddy," Stevie said shyly, still embarrassed over having been caught in the act of creating their present.

"Like it?" asked Alison brightly.

Stevie glanced up at their dad, waiting for his answer.

Henry stooped down and lifted both his girls up, eliciting surprised squeals from each of them.

"I love it!" He kissed his youngest daughter's nose. "It's a masterpiece—beautiful!"

"Ali made it dirty," grumbled Stevie.

Henry nuzzled his nose against Stevie's in reply, making her giggle. "I think the apron is just as beautiful as all of the statues in Rome that daddy studies."

"Really?" asked Stevie, eyes lighting up.

Henry nodded. "And you know what makes it more special than all the statues in the world?"

"What?" asked Stevie.

"I can wear it," he said in the most reverent of voices.

"We have to let it dry first," Stevie pointed out.

"Dry," repeated Alison.

Henry set both girls back down with a pretend impatient moan. "Aw man! I was really looking forward to wearing it when I make pancakes today."

Stevie was spurred into action by the complaint. "Mommy can dry it now! Right mommy?"

Elizabeth laughed, "Right away, Miss Stevie!" She picked up the hair dryer that they prepared and kept on the chair, plugged it in, and then began to run hot air over the work of art.

"Hey, hey," she called out to the kids, "Noodle, Stevie, clean up!"

The two girls obeyed and while they cleared out the table, Henry slipped his arms around his wife's waist, hugging her from behind as she worked.

"I was wondering where you'd gone," he whispered, resting his chin on the space between her shoulder and neck.

Elizabeth twisted her head to look at him, smiled, and kissed him good morning, saying happy birthday against his lips.

Turning back to the apron, she casually said, "You know, Ali and Stevie weren't the only ones who created a masterpiece."

"Oh, yeah? What did you make?"

"We," she corrected.

"We?"

"I'm pregnant."

Henry's hands slipped from Elizabeth's waist, completely taken aback by the revelation.

Elizabeth twisted around again and kissed him softly on the cheek, letting him take his time to absorb the news.

It was a few seconds later when she heard him mumble, 'masterpiece' under his breath.

A/N: Tell me what you think!