Hello all! Hope everyone is doing well. I just binged Madam Secretary for the first time, and boy, do I want to binge it again! Wish this show hadn't ended yet. But I've now delved from the world of OUAT FanFic to the MSec FanFic, and I love this new world! It's been a hot minute since I've written any fiction. I'm going through grad school right now and it's been a lot of writing, but not this kind, so I may be a bit rusty. Go easy on me, but I hope you all enjoy!
March 25, 2022
"Madam President," Blake utters, walking into the O and shutting the door behind him, "Your vacation is finalized—all set to fly in on June 12th, and there will be a motorcade waiting for you on the airstrip to take you and FGOTUS to the secured house."
"Oh, Blake." Elizabeth says, shooting him the smile that she always gives whenever he does something angelic, "You're magic—truly. It'll be so nice to just relax for a week."
Blake smiles sheepishly, "Yes, well," he stutters, "You'll still—"
"Have to have my phone on me at all times. Jay has already reminded me. I'm still within reach, but if it's something that you, Jay, or anyone else on this staff or in this entire government can handle, it better not reach me." She states, leaning back in her chair with her hands behind her head, "The last person to have a vacation—a true vacation, that is—in this family was Stevie, and that was for their honeymoon. It's my turn."
"Yes ma'am." Blake says, nodding his head and grabbing the doorknob, "Is there anything else I can do?"
"That's it, thanks Blake."
"Goodnight, Madam President."
When the door clicks shut, she grabs her phone, "It's a night to celebrate." She writes out to Henry, sending it before writing another text right after, "The good kind of celebration." She sends, adding a winking emoji to the next text.
She knows it drives Henry a little crazy whenever she uses multiple texts for one thought, but she continues to do it. "Well, I'm the President," she reminded him not long ago, "and I think the President should be able to send however many texts she wants."
"What was your excuse before you were POTUS?" Henry quipped.
"Well," She began to repeat, "I'm your wife, and I think your wife should be able to send however many texts she wants."
"So many texts. So little to say. So much to celebrate. See you tonight." Henry replies, following up with a bright red heart in the same message.
She sets her phone down on the desk and sits back up in her chair. Her fingers find the call button for Jay's line, and she presses down.
"Madam President?"
"Hey Jay," She says, "I'm going to head out a little early tonight if there's no immediate things that need addressed, yeah?"
"Nothing right now, I'll let Blake know."
"He already is headed home, too. Since everyone else is headed home, you should go too. I know Annelies is always happy to have you home a little early."
Jay laughs a little, "Yeah, she is, but if I'm being honest, I'm a little scared of her right now." He states, "She's hit that stage."
"The one where all she wants is to murder you because her body is being taken over by a foreign intruder?"
"Yeah, that one."
Elizabeth nods and smiles, "I remember that well, all three times. Go home, Jay, and bring a detail with you if need be."
"Got it," He says, "See you in the morning."
"Honey, we're still three months away," Henry says, leaning his entire upper body on their bed as he watches her pull down her suitcase in the closet.
She gives it a good tug and lets gravity do the rest, "Yeah," She says, standing it up on its end and rolling it to her side of the bed. Tossing it on the bed, she looks back to Henry, "But Henry, it's a real vacation. Not Camp David. Not some shmoozy political trip. You know how long it's been since we've had one of those?"
He takes his glasses off and holds them in his hand, "Well," he says, trying to do the math, "Before the campaign, right?" He asks, unsure of himself still. Other than a little snicker, Elizabeth stayed silent, and Henry laughed along with her, "That long, huh?"
"Try when I was still M Sec and when Stevie was still engaged to that Brit."
"Jareth."
"Yeah, that Brit." She quips. When Henry pulled the same trick of staying silent, just quietly laughing to himself, she throws a pillow at him, "Henry! He didn't even like the boots!"
"You gotta let that go, babe."
She goes back to rifling through her swimwear, carefully choosing which ones to bring with her. "Well—"
"Before you give me that, 'I'm the President and can say what I want' crap, please know it's well beyond you to over-abuse your power."
Her hands stop folding the bikini bottom mid-fold, drooping both hands down into the bottom of her suitcase and slumping over, "It doesn't make it any less true." She remarks.
Henry walks over to her side, rubbing her shoulders as she begins to fold the clothes up again, "I do believe you mentioned there would be celebration. Good celebration." He reminds, pressing his thumbs in those spots right behind her shoulder blades and watching as one of the most powerful women in the world lets her head fall to the side, practically melting into his body behind her. "What did you have in mind?"
"Mmm, I had something in mind before you said I couldn't pull the POTUS card."
He laughs and kisses the side of her neck, "And if I change my mind?"
"That wouldn't be very ethical of you."
With a kiss on her collarbone, he let his lips linger on her skin and smiled, "Good thing I'm not the ethics advisor anymore, huh?"
June 13, 2022
"Just look at this, honey, isn't it beautiful?" Henry says, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes again after applying some sunscreen to his face. He sits the bottle down in the sand beside him and his towel and scoots it over toward Elizabeth's leg.
Only inches away from him, Elizabeth was angled so that her head was nearest the water while she laid on her front side. Her arms were bent up underneath the side of her face, providing a gentle cushion for her head. "Mmhm," She says, half asleep.
Henry leaned back on his free arm, looking out at the view past his toes one more time before shifting his gaze to his wife again, "Are you asleep?"
"No, but not for lack of trying." She mumbles.
He takes her nearest foot in his hand, pressing his thumb underneath the ball of his foot and making circular motions. This action received a soft moan from his massage-ee, "Jet lag?"
She sits up on her forearms, craning her neck to look back at him with one eye squinted. Her sunglasses were on top of her head, but she forgot they were up there getting tangled in her blonde locks, "Think so. My body crashed now that it got the chance, I guess."
Henry gives a gentle pat to the bottom of her foot and stands up, taking the sunscreen with him. He straddles Elizabeth's lower back, pouring some sunscreen into his palm before leaning over and applying it to her back. When his fingers find the tender spot beside her neck, she lets her head fall again, "If we didn't already have three kids, Henry, I'd make you my baby daddy with moves like this." She murmurs.
He laughs and keeps rubbing, ensuring first that all the sunscreen is rubbed all the way down her neck and back before continuing his massage, "Is this your way of asking for more kids?"
"God, no." She says, her shoulders jutting as she laughs, "At fifty-two—going on fifty-three—I think that deserves a hell no, buddy." She laughs a little more and adds, "Besides, the whole country is like my baby right now. I think I have enough on my plate."
"I mean," He starts, but doesn't get to finish his sentence before she interrupts him.
"If you dare mention something about my lack of menopausal symptoms at this late stage, I will advise you to sleep on the couch for the rest of our Kauai vacation and until I discover my first hot flash, big guy." She states, giving him a gentle kick in the butt with her foot. While chuckling, he squats down and sits on her butt, continuing the massaging of her shoulders, "We've made it since 2001, and that one was on purpose. This factory is closed. And even if it weren't, I think I'm actually, finally, maybe about to start menopause anyway." She says a little more seriously. She rolls to her side and looks up at him standing over her.
Her cycle had become pretty irregular the last few months, and she knew she had to accept this changing body of hers. The last time she talked with Isabelle, they discussed all the girlish topics like always. When Isabelle found out that Elizabeth hadn't gone into menopause yet, she acted like a thirteen year old girl who was jealous of another girl for getting her period.
"Lucky you," Isabelle had said, "I have to sleep with the overhead fan, an oscillating fan, and those expensive cooling sheets on the bed now."
"Lucky me." Elizabeth agreed.
He rolls off of her backside and wedges himself right beside her, easily sliding her body on top of his since they were both a bit sweaty from this Hawaii heat. "You don't ever think about what it would be like to add one more?"
"I did," She says, finally remembering her sunglasses and pulling them down. She places her hands behind his neck, locking her fingers together, "Before the campaign. It was a weird time when I was deciding whether to resign as M Sec or not. I was thinking of all the life choices I could make in place of being POTUS—it was like my mind's way of making a pro and con list." She states, "And then when I was sleep deprived on the campaign trail and crying over the natural selection of a bird, I knew I was well-past childbearing and newborn-raising. I mean, remember all those sleepless nights with Jase?"
"How could I forget?" Henry asks, laughing as he slides his hands down her sides, past her hips, and into the sides of her bikini bottoms. "Little monster was up every two hours if he was feeling generous."
"And Stevie and Allison never were like that." Elizabeth reminds him.
"I thought other people were wimps when they were talking about their baby not sleeping." Henry adds, "I mean, I always bragged that my two girls slept through the night by the time they were at least six months old."
"They were super babies."
"And then, along came Jason," Henry says, "Has he stopped causing trouble since then?"
Elizabeth laughs and shakes her head, "At least he's stopped calling himself an anarchist."
August 20, 1998
Elizabeth tugged at the top of her turtleneck, folding it over and away from her chin in the mirror. Brushing her hands down along the front side of her body, she straightened up a little and examined herself. "I've got to start running again." She murmured to herself, swooping her bangs up and out of her face.
She grabbed the blazer from her bed and headed out to the kitchen where Henry was already making bacon.
"Making your favorite, babe." Henry said, kissing his wife on the cheek as she walked by him to go get Stevie from the playroom on the other side of the kitchen. "There's already pancakes that are sitting in the microwave waiting for you. Didn't want them getting cold."
She came back in the kitchen with an almost-too-big Stevie on her hip and gave Henry a tired smile, "I'm so glad I married a man who can cook." She said before kissing Stevie on the cheek and putting her down in her chair at the table. "For days when I'm running late and will have to eat on the run, especially."
"I tried waking you up, but you did not budge." He said, "So I just got Stevie out of bed and got her busy playing while I came in and cooked."
She nodded and basically fell backward into the chair, leaning over to put her shoes on, "I don't know what's going on with me. I finally woke up when I smelled the coffee, but even then I really had to make myself wake up."
"Think you should go to the doctor?" Henry asked, turning the stove off and taking the pan off the burner.
"Flu isn't going around at this time of year, is it?"
"Not what I meant."
She quickly looked up at him, squinting her eyes in his direction and then rubbing her temple, "Are you suggesting that I'm—" She stopped and looked at Stevie. She'd been begging her parents for a "little brudder" and knew exactly what the word "pregnant" meant thanks to the little neighbor friend's mom being due any day now. Stevie was far too smart for them to make up some story about why Elizabeth and Henry would be throwing that word around.
Henry shrugged and put bacon on three plates, even though Elizabeth said she would eat on the run today. "All I'm saying is that you were impossible to wake up when you were first preg—" Elizabeth shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks and nodded her head subtly toward Stevie who was half-playing with her doll and half-listening to their conversation, "When you first, you know."
Elizabeth leaned back in the chair, resting her elbow on the table and laying her head in her palm. Math, thankfully, was her specialty from early childhood—and she kept a pretty good track of her cycle in her head.
Henry continued, "And remember how you couldn't stop eating popcorn?"
"I'm always eating popcorn." Elizabeth argued.
"Yeah," Henry said, bringing their plates to the table and going back to get the syrup and forks, "But you never mixed it with chocolate syrup until—"
The image of her pouring chocolate syrup over a bowl of freshly popped popcorn last night flashed in her mind, "Oh no," Elizabeth said, sitting up straight now and eyeing Henry. "You're…"
"Right. Go ahead," He said smugly, "You can say it."
She playfully smacked his arm and pressed her lips together, gritting her teeth, "I—help me remember dates here." She said, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the small table behind her.
"The night of the Guns N Roses concert." He stated.
"That was the last time?" She asked, a bit shocked.
He nodded and laughed, "Yeah, another reason I say you're…you know." He said, taking a bite of his pancake. "You didn't want to…" He trailed off and glanced at Stevie while thinking of a synonym, "Canoodle the first three months or so, and then all of a sudden I couldn't keep you off me until you started saying you felt and looked like a whale and didn't want anything to do with me."
Elizabeth jerked her plate closer to her and chewed on some bacon, then pushed it back away from her after the smell made her quiver, "I'm not saying you're right," She said, "But I'm not saying you're wrong."
In her head, and in her heart, she knew he was right. There was no way she'd eat this full plate of food—the thought of taking two more bites of the pancakes made her want to run to the bathroom and hug the toilet for a while.
June 14, 2022
Elizabeth padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy child. "What time is it?" She asks.
"It's past time for breakfast, Sleepy Head. You weren't budging this morning," Henry teases, "But your plate is waiting for you in the microwave, anyway."
She smiles and closes her eyes, "The best words ever spoken." She coos, "I knew I married you for great reasons."
He stands up from the table where he was reading a book, setting his glasses down on the counter and coming up behind her as she loaded her plate. He kisses down the right side of her neck, letting his hands slide up her sides and find her breasts, "Is that the only reason?" He whispers hotly in her ear.
She laughs and tilts her head to the other side, looking back at him, "I heard military get great retirement packages." She jokes. Although it was a lighthearted joke and it made him chuckle, Henry backs away and sighs. Elizabeth quickly picks up on the mood change and sets her food in the microwave, turning it on for a minute. "It was a joke." She reminds him.
"I know," He says, sliding both palms down his face, "I just…I kind of thought…" He stops and tilts his head back, "There's no way to say this without sounding like a jerk, so here goes." He starts. "We haven't had sex in a while. And when we did last have sex, it was interrupted by a call to the Sit Room." He says, putting his hand up when she started to speak, "Now I know, I know, it's part of the job. I get that. We signed up for this," He explains, "But I kind of thought that this trip, just the two of us with only emergency calls allowed on your phone, that we would…you know."
"Say it." She says, tilting her head. "Say what you mean, Henry."
He shifts his weight and leans over on the counter, "You know what I mean."
"It's not like we have little kids around, Henry. Say what you mean." She says, knowing good and well what he was telling her.
"Fine, sex. We haven't had sex. And I thought this trip that we would rekindle that." He says.
He turns away and walks back to the table, plopping down as the microwave beeps. "Is it me?" He asks after a few moments of complete silence, barring the cap on the pancake syrup being opened. "Am I just…not…" He mumbles, suddenly looking a bit insecure and out of place.
Elizabeth notices his demeanor change and comes over to the table, sitting next to him, "Henry, we're aging." She says softly, "We're not—" She cuts herself off and sighs, "We're not in our twenties anymore by any means. I feel like what we have is healthy for our age."
"Do you really?" He asks seriously, "Because I know you, Elizabeth, and I know your body second-best of anyone, and that's only behind you. And you just don't seem into it anymore." He says, quickly adding, "And I mean, that's okay. I know I'm aging, too, and I'm not as…well…spry as I used to be."
She laughs and takes his hand, "Henry," She says, "I still love having sex with you, just…not as often. My body just hasn't felt up to it recently." She says, setting her fork down and taking a swig of his orange juice. "I really think my body is just changing. I mean, all women my age experience this kind of thing. I'm sure it's temporary." She says, taking another bite of her pancake.
She looks down at her plate, examining all the food on it. "I think I got too much food." She says. "Are you feeling alright? I'm really wondering if I didn't pick up the flu." She says, standing up and putting her plate on the countertop.
Henry watches her and tilts his head to the side, "In June? When the flu isn't really going around?" He asks.
"I mean, you can still catch the flu even if it's not popular." She says and laughs at her own word choice, "Even the unpopular illnesses get chosen sometimes."
He shrugs, "I feel fine." He says, but still looked like he was pouting.
She comes over and sits across his thigh, hugging his neck, "Let's go out and lay on the beach. We always feel better after that." She says.