Stevie stood staring out the window of Blake Moran's guest bedroom. Her books were spread out in front of her but she wasn't working. She was alone in the neat condo. Blake was traveling with her mother, but she still kept herself hidden and tucked away in the small spare bedroom; unwilling to disrupt his life any more than she already had.

"Listen," He'd told her before leaving. "I see your mother every day, and she's got weirdo voodoo, Jedi skills. I know before the trip is over I'm gonna spill my guts that you are staying here. I don't know what she'll do so you better get ready."

"She's not going to do anything." Stevie told him.

"She might fire me." He offered.

"She won't and if she does I'll talk to her."

"It might be worth it if it got you talking to her. Call them! At least give your Dad a text or something! They are really worried!"

"Blake, I appreciate you letting me stay here. It's just a few more days and I'll be back at my friend's place."

"You prefer a lumpy roll out couch, over my lectures?" He sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't do anything until I get back - unless it involves one or more of your parents and a phone!"

"Blake . . ."

"Alright. I must be off. I'll see you when I get back. Go to class, and finish that paper!" He told her. "And if I find out you invited some frat house over, I will personally drive your father to you."

"Got it, Dad." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Dad?" He blanched. "I'm the cool, young uncle."

"The cool, young uncle, doesn't lecture."

He would be back in two days, as would her mother. She grabbed her phone scrolling through her messages when a text from Hannah caught her eye.

"Crap!" She said aloud as she read the short text.

-He's moving in! ️He wants to marry me!-

The text ended with five rows of hearts. Stevie tossed her phone aside and lay her head on top of the desk. She was completely screwed.

***MS***

"What time is it?" Elizabeth McCord asked her husband.

He glanced at his phone before responding. "4:16 a.m. How can somebody as smart as you never grasp time differences?"

"I don't have a grasp on time in general, Henry. My life is measured by meetings. When I get a break I'm calling you. I'm not checking a clock!"

"Duly noted." He rubbed his face.

"Should I hang up?" She asked him, but he could hear the smile in her tone.

"No way! 'Speak to me as music, for your voice is music to my ears.'" He grinned proudly. "That's Shakespeare, baby."

"You quote Shakespeare at four in the morning? Are you sure you're a Marine?"

"I'm not the standard issue." He explained. "And just to clarify, you call me night or day, Mrs. McCord."

"Roger that, Captain."

"How is it going?" He settled back on the pillows of the half-empty bed.

"Great. I haven't done anything stupid or offensive yet, so . . ."

"Begging for compliments, babe? Struggling with insecurities? You must be tired! You could convince Ghandi to eat! You know you are the consummate diplomat."

"No one talks like that at four in the morning, professor."

He laughed. "I miss you, babe. No one keeps me in line, like you!"

"Well, I'll be home in a few days - unless the world kilters off balance, again."

"Hey, darlin' next time they come knocking on our door demanding you serve your country, hold out for the Presidency, would you? Conrad's home a hell of a lot more than you are."

"Next time, I am NOT opening the door." She said. "How are the kids?"

"Good. Jason been a little down. Madison told him it was too 'complicated' being at different schools."

"That little bitch!"

"ELIZABETH!" He laughed. "They weren't dating, honey. They are thirteen!"

"So, she can't work a movie with him into her precious schedule? Is he crushed? Should I call him?"

"God no! Baby, the last thing he's gonna want is a pep talk from his mommy!"

"I gotta tell you, Henry, raising a boy has some drawbacks! His male pride really cramps my maternal instincts!"

"I hear you, babe." He laughed. "He's okay. And you comfort him without even realizing it."

"It was easier with the girls! All Alison ever wants is a snuggle and some ice cream and Stevie . . ." She stopped unable to finish her thought.

"Babe?" He asked softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "No luck?"

"No." He told her. "I even drove out to Blake's place but no one answered."

"He said she was looking for a new job." She offered. "Maybe she found one."

"Maybe." He agreed. "When you get back, let's just go there."

"A straight up blitz?" She asked.

"Yes!" He told her. "Waiting around sucks and it's draining my energy and yours. I mean, it couldn't make things worse, could it?"

"She's a McCord, babe! We've got an infinite capability to make things worse."

"Of this," He said sadly, "I am aware."

"I should go." She said softly. "Try and sleep a little more. It's early still."

"Not a chance, babe." He told her. "I wish you were here next to me."

"Me, too."

"Okay," He said, trying to sound cheerful. "You'll be right here next to me in forty-eight hours or so. I can deal 'til then."

"We've got no choice." She said laughing.

"I love you, babe." He told her. "And I plan to show you how much soon as you get home."

"I look forward to that," She said evenly and he knew that she wasn't alone anymore. He grinned malevolently, before speaking again.

"Want details?" He teased her. "First thing I'm gonna do is slide my fingers over . . ."

"Yes, that would be perfect." She interrupted him, and he could almost hear her blush. "I'll see you then. Bye."

She hung up and he laughed out loud. His phone buzzed and he lifted it, unsurprised to see a text from her.

-You are a jerk-

He grinned and wrote back, -I love you too, sweetheart.-