A week later she wakes up to sun streaming in her face. Her husband, and children are notably absent as she surveys the perimeter. Clad in her pajamas, and a haphazardly secured mop of a bun she pokes her head out the door. Matt offers his first disapproving look of the day.
"This is your second day on leave. I have been given specific instructions not to let you leave the premises for anything other than official d-day business."
"Perhaps you would prefer that twenty seven random delivery men bombard the residence at once."
He furrows his brow, "What have you done?"
"Henry issued me an ultimatum that I had to order some items, or that he would allow Alison to be in charge of the purchases."
"I assume you want me to covertly have all of the boxes delivered, and disposed of at a neutral location before your husband returns home."
"Obviously."
"Did you ever decide where you were putting this alleged offspring?"
"I guess that he, or she will be joining us in our room."
"That is a mistake."
"You're on nightshift anyway, so it shouldn't be too inconvenient for me."
Matt rolls his eyes. Madam Secretary is panic vacuuming, or nesting as some refer to it, when the boxes begin to arrive. The first item to arrive is a car seat.
"Is this the one you wanted me to get? I had to offer my firstborn in exchange. She's an adult, so she'll have to answer that one on her own."
Matt shakes his head, "Yes."
"There is a matching stroller that goes with it, but it is coming from a different location."
"I notice that you ordered every bit of this stuff in my name."
She grins from ear to ear, "I had to."
An hour later she is, much to everyone's dismay, assembling a crib when the phone rings. She lowers the landline headset to the floor where she is sitting.
"Ma'am, Russell Jackson is here to see you."
"Send him away. I have been avoiding him at every turn for weeks. It's not been an easy feat."
"Too late, he's on his way up."
As she secures the cradle onto the receiver Russell appears in her doorway.
"Your office insists that you cannot be reached. I explained to them that I cannot for the life of me understand why you have been so vehemently avoiding me for weeks. In fact I have not seen you in person in weeks. Does that not strike you as odd? I cannot understand how carpal tunnel surgery takes preparation, as well as such an extensive recovery period."
She waits a beat to be certain that he's finished. "If that will be all you know where the door is. I am currently occupied, Russell," she points to the nearly assembled crib between them.
He scratches his head, "Why are you assembling a crib? And why is your entry way full of boxes?"
She vacates her seat on the floor. Her Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt does nothing to obscure the 37 weeks of growth.
"I looked at my calendar last night, and I started to feel paranoid. I realized I hadn't seen you in the flesh other than one incident when I barged into your office for nine weeks."
"Are you satisfied with the answer?"
"No! What the hell were you thinking?"
"It seemed like the thing to do. All the cool kids were. Late in life offspring are on trend now," she retorts.
"What the hell would possess you to have another child? You have three perfect pancakes."
"This was not planned."
"Why is everyone in the dark about it?"
"I don't think anyone, other than you, and the American public is in the dark, Russell. It is a private matter for a host of reasons that I don't have to justify to… anyone."
"So you'll be back to the office on Monday?" He teases.
She wipes her hands off on the nearby towel, and moves closer to him.
"I think we both know that this is probably the end of the road for us, Russell."
"If you think for one second that I am going to let an unplanned geriatric pregnancy be enough to let you off the hook so easily you have another thing coming. I've started to get you whipped into a half way decent Secretary of State."
Her eyes meet his for a moment. Her lips curl into a smile, "You're saying that you would miss me?"
"Those are your words, not mine," he grumbles.
"Huh… I did not anticipate that."
"I would deny such a sentiment to anyone who suggested it. So is this McCord going to be a boy, or a girl?"
She shrugs, "I have absolutely no clue."
"That is disappointing. Do you have any names picked out?"
"Thomas is at the top of Henry's list every time."
Russell shakes his head, "He isn't the brightest bulb, is he? If it hasn't worked on the first three tries, why would it work on the fourth?"
"I let him down so gently every time. This go round if we make it to the finish line with a healthy baby I would probably let him name it anything."
"The world is in for trouble. A rainbow baby is twice as determined to lay its claim to the world. Make it a McCord, and there is no hope. My son was a rainbow baby, and he has always been a force to be reckoned with."
"Maybe it was just your genes," she jokes trying not to skate the slippery slope of vulnerability.
"I know you're a little older know, so I expect to see you back in the office after a week, or so."
She rolls her eyes, "What do you think the chances of that are? I am a hot mess express. I am at thirty seven weeks three days, and today was the first time baby gear entered my household."
"It sounds as if you have forty weeks-worth of work ahead of you. I won't keep you."
She sighs, as he turns to leave the room, "And it's not going to be today."
He stops in the doorway, "I am not stopping you," he clarifies.
"Just spontaneously ruptured membranes."
He casts a look of utter horror in her direction, "You can't have a baby right now. You don't even have the crib assembled, Elizabeth."
"Solid logic, Russell. Unfortunately it does not seem that my progeny agrees with your assessment."
"Come on," he motions, "I'll ride with you to the hospital."
"I think I could wait until…"
"If you would prefer for me to deliver your newborn on the floor of your bathroom that is your choice."
"This is not going to move along that quickly. I have plenty of time."
In an uncharacteristically calm manner he deletes several paces between them. As his eyes lock with her shifting glance, and his hand comes to rest on her shoulder Elizabeth grows increasingly uneasy.
"Stalling will not delay the inevitable. Good, bad, or ugly this baby is going to be expelled from your womb. I know you to be willing to take risks when the circumstance demands it, but never when it comes to your family. No matter the outcome of this crisis I assure you that the hospital is the best location for the event."
She offers an objectionable sigh. Her blue orbs shift away from his face. As she stares at her worn shoes the magnitude of it all weighs down on her. "I have felt less fear entering war zones."
He shakes his head, and his lips twitch into a smile. "I'll ride with you."