February 9, 2008

"Are you sure this looks alright?" Elizabeth is asking, smoothing her dress down her sides. She hasn't dressed like this since Henry's days of military balls.

The forest green dress scrapes the floor as she moves in the mirror and she's pulling at the neckline that's just a little too plunging for her taste. She feels his hands wrap around her arms just below her elbows, though, and she looks up to see him standing behind her in the mirror. "You look beautiful." Henry says.

"You're just saying that to get me out of here on time." She coos back.

He smiles at her and rests his chin on her shoulder, "No, I'm saying that because you really are beautiful." He says and presses a kiss to her cheek before walking away, tying his bow tie.

She watches him through the mirror as he walks to the bed and sits down, putting his shoes on. She glances back at herself, wanting to groan at the amount of skin she was showing on her chest, but he was right—she looked beautiful. She felt beautiful. Even as she's struggling to accept this age, this new body of skin that is starting to wrinkle and of muscles that are starting to ache a little more, she feels beautiful in this gown.

Sliding her feet into her shoes, she puts the strap on her ankle and grabs her mask, "Are you ready?" She asks, holding the mask up in front of her face playfully.

He meets her eye finally and smiles, "Ready," he says, grabbing the mask beside him on the bed and holding it up in front of his face, too.

When they arrive at the school, they make their way to the gym that has been shifted into a beautiful area where there's a stage complete with a lively band ringing out Mardi Gras music, food donned at each side of the gym on tables, and a big dance floor laid just for the occasion. There were tables and chairs laid around the room, and it looked nothing like their normal gym anymore.

"Wow," Elizabeth says and looks around, "Remember when we would come in here and play some 1-on-1?" She asks Henry, her arm hooked around in his. There were hardly anyone there yet, surprisingly, even though this was a student and faculty ordeal. Aside from celebrating Mardi Gras, this was also their excuse to celebrate the eighteenth anniversary of the university's president, Dr. Casteen.

"You were a student here?" Dr. Casteen had asked Elizabeth after meeting her in the interview process, reading over her curriculum vitae and resume.

"I was, yes sir." She replied, "And I was recruited straight from here into the CIA where I worked for sixteen years in intelligence."

Dr. Casteen laid his glasses down and smiled, extending his hand to her, "Well, you definitely have the qualifications, then." He said in a knowing tone, "We'll be pleased to have a former Wahoo on board with us."

She shook his hand and smiled, "Thank you, Dr. Casteen." She replied, "Wah-hoo-wah!" Immediately, her face had turned red, but Dr. Casteen just laughed and said it back to her, and she felt as though she were initiated.

"Those were the good days," Henry replies, "I need to find the bathroom."

She smiles a little, thinking about how they really are aging when the first thing one of them have to do is find the bathroom. "It's where it has always been." She coos to him as he breaks away from her arm and goes toward the hall.

Making her way slowly to the food, she double checks that her mask is on.

"Elizabeth?" Someone walks up to her from behind, and she turns quickly.

"Hello," she says, unsure really of who it is.

The woman pulls her mask up a little to just cover her eyebrows and gives a smile, "Vivian from History."

"Oh!" Elizabeth says, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She doesn't really congregate with other faculty very much, so even though she's met the people in her building and other fellow professors, she doesn't really remember them. Especially when they have masks on. However, she really should know Vivian—they're office neighbors after all. "Hi, how are you?" She continues, trying to brush off the fact that she had totally not recognized the woman.

After they chat for a moment, she turns to the table of food and grabs a plate, making her way through the line of waiters who place hors d'oeuvres on her plate. She should wait for Henry, and she thinks briefly about stepping back out of the line, but her stomach gives a little rumble and she knows that he'll be ready to dance. She needs energy if she's going to do that.

She looks around for her husband, wondering where he could have possibly gotten lost at since the bathroom was just across the hall outside the gym itself. She wonders if the fried chicken lunch from earlier at the cafeteria is maybe getting to him, and she thinks maybe she should go check on him. But then she glances at her plate full of surprisingly delicious-looking food, and she goes and finds a seat at an empty table.

The longer she sits there, the more that people start sitting around the table. Pretty soon she finds herself laying her clutch on the seat next to her, having to fend people off and tell them it's taken. "I wonder if they think I'm lying, looking like a desperate girl." She thinks to herself as she pops a Swedish meatball into her mouth, realizing that it was a little too big for it to all be one bite. As she awkwardly chews, she looks around again, checking over each shoulder to see if she could find Henry in the darkened room, but still had not seen him.

She shoves bacon-wrapped something into her mouth, no longer really caring that it was a little too big for it to all be one bite. She'd been starving more than she'd realized. As she swallows the bite, she feels a hand on her shoulder, and she's about to turn and say "This seat's taken," but she sees it's her own husband's hand. "Welcome back." She says, "I was wondering if I should send a search party."

He laughs a little as he scoots the chair out, then realizes she already has a plate and doesn't sit down. "I got caught on memory lane," he says, "They have the intramural sports teams' pictures out there in the hall on the way to the bathroom, so on the way back I stopped and found our pictures." He says and smiles a little, "You on the soccer team from '88 to '90, and myself on the baseball team for one season in '89."

She laughs, "Those were interesting days, weren't they?" She asks before he nods, walking over to the table and back with a plate of hors d'oeuvres for himself.

He sits in the chair and shoves a whole Swedish meatball into his mouth before she can warn him against it, and he makes an uncomfortable gagging noise, "That's too big."

"That's what she said."

"Elizabeth," Henry simply says, trying to not spit the meatball out.

She is quite pleased, however, with her joke so she innocently shrugs her shoulders and takes a bite of the croissant, "Balls are hard to deal with sometimes." She says, "Sometimes you think you can fit them in your mouth, but it turns out—"

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Nothing." Elizabeth replies with a little chuckle.

Henry's shaking his head, but she sees that he's smiling below his mask, and she smiles too before taking another bite from her bread. "Have you seen any of our students?"

Henry shrugs, "I'm not sure I'd know if I did," he admits, "These masks hide a little more than I'd realized, and maybe it's just because it's so dark in here on top of it all."

She nods, "Vivian recognized me, but I think it's because she keeps her door open all the time and I walk by too often. She probably knows me by the way I step," Elizabeth teases, raising her brow. "Other than her, I don't know who is who."

"I think that's the point," Henry reminds, "Dr. Casteen said we could all take our masks off after dinner was served."

Elizabeth just nods as she's working on the last bit of her bread, and she hears the jazz band playing one of the Mardi Gras classics, "Iko Iko." She nudges Henry, "Should we dance like no one's watching?"

"Well," he chuckles and swallows his last bite of food from the plate—he had gotten maybe half the items Elizabeth did, "I believe tonight it would be us dancing like no one knows our names."

She smiles as he stands to his feet, and he reaches to grab her hand before she makes her way to her own feet, walking with him to the dance floor.

Throughout the fast-pace song, they dance by Henry spinning Elizabeth around, by the couple coming into each other and then out again, generally just looking as though they are having fun. Quite a few songs pass by with Elizabeth and Henry dancing like this, and finally, the trumpet player steps up to the front of the stage. "This is Benny," the singer says breathlessly, "And he's going to slow it down with a little Louis Armstrong for us tonight," he explains, and Elizabeth takes a moment to look around and see the dance floor was filled out. There was a full house here now, and she knows they're about to wind down for dinner to be served. "Benny, you gonna start with some 'West End Blues' for the people tonight?" He asks, and a few people holler. Elizabeth assumes those people came drunk.

The trumpet player doesn't answer in his own voice, but instead uses the communication he seems best suited for and rings out the first few notes on the trumpet. People cheer and holler once again, and Elizabeth finds herself taking a deep breath as though the trumpet somehow gave her air.

She realizes out of the corner of her eye that Henry is watching her, and he cracks a smile, "Would you like to dance?" He asks softly, extending his hand out to her.

It takes one glance at his hand for Elizabeth to lay her own hand in his, gently pressing her fingers into his palm before they get into a slow-dance position. When she looks up as they start swaying, she's suddenly very aware of their hips pressed together, probably a little too closely for a school function such as this, but who really cares? They're masked, and most of these folks are drunk. Even the students, she has suspicions, are snockered.

Henry leads them as they sway side to side, slowly making a circle as his hand is tucked in the small of her back. Her hand is wrapped around his arm, her palm resting somewhere around his shoulder as her other hand is enveloped in his, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapping around hers.

She meets his eyes and swallows hard, feeling as though the little bit of alcohol she has bought from the bar tonight has probably been doing its job quicker than she'd realized.

"What is it?" Henry asks in a whisper.

Elizabeth smiles up at him, meeting his eyes after examining him from his shoulders up. He, much like her, is starting to get little wrinkles around his neck. At the very base of his hairline, there's a little bit of a salt-and-pepper look happening, and she wonders if she would have that much gray if she would stop dying it. He has a couple years on her, though, so maybe not. Maybe that would come later for her. "Just thinking," she whispers with a little smile.

He grins, "Would you like to elaborate?"

"No," Elizabeth shoots quickly, trying to not chuckle at herself but failing anyway. "I loved you in this gym all those years ago," she says.

Henry looks down at her and she sees his forehead move, knowing that his eyebrows are frowning somewhere behind his mask, "That was past tense."

"And I love you even more now in this gym, dancing here as we grow old together." She whispers, tilting her head to the side just slightly as she feels her body get a little bolder without her brain's consent, feeling her slide her leg between his as they get an inch closer or so.

They are still swaying to the sounds of the trumpet and other brass that have joined, "I just think it's amazing how we blinked and…and we're here again, but as professors." She whispers, laying her cheek down on his chest. She rethinks for a moment, knowing she has foundation and blush on her skin, but decides it's worth it. She can get the stain out of his white shirt some other time. Or she can buy him a new one. "Did it happen like that for you?"

"I'm not even sure I blinked," Henry answers almost immediately, and she feels his head resting on hers.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of his cologne and just his scent in general, knowing it so well by now that she could do a scent-lineup if the police ever asked her to do so. She smirks at that thought, but then quickly pushes it away when she feels a little bit of tension against her thigh.

She peeks an eye open and picks her head up, looking up at him, "What's going on here?" She asks, torturing him by moving her leg against his pants.

He bites his lip, "I was just thinking about something," he says and laughs, "And it wasn't even inappropriate. Well, not at first."

She raises her brow, "Oh?"

He spins them around a little quickly and smirks down at her, "But it doesn't help that your leg has been between mine all throughout this song." He whispers, dipping her suddenly.

She lets out a laugh and takes a moment to gather herself after he stands her back up, and she looks up at him again, "So what was it?" She asks.

"I was just wondering if it weren't for this school, do you think we would've ever met?" Henry asks.

She thinks for a moment and finally shrugs, "I guess that's a question to answer once we figure out whether we believe our love was fate or not." She replies.

They're both quiet again, and she lays her head back on his chest as the band moves into another slow-dance song. He clears his throat, his chest vibrating against her ear a bit, "I think we would have," he continues, "I think we would have met each other some way. Our love might be fate, or it might be free will, but I think that fate would have put us in the same path somehow to let us meet each other at least."

She looks up at him again, her hand dropping from his and down to his shoulder, latching with her other hand behind his neck as his hands meet behind her back and rest on the ledge there. "It is hard to believe that whatever beings are out there wouldn't give us the chance to meet," she agrees, "And give us the chance to have our three beautiful babies." She says with a little smile, letting her head tilt slightly.

He nods, "Exactly," he whispers. "And then I was thinking—brought on by your leg rubbing—" he adds with a sharp tilt of his head, "That even though…that our relationship has never just been about the sex." He whispers, swallowing hard. She can tell that he's struggling to find the right words. "Don't get me wrong, I've always loved it," he says with a little chuckle, and it makes her face feel warm under her mask, "It's just that…we always had more in common than just that. And I think we settled too far into that."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asks softly, looking up at him intently.

"I think we became too comfortable with the fact that our relationship is good without the sex. We have our humor, we have our love and our care for each other, but we didn't have that for too long."

She squints her eyes at him, "Are you saying we needed to have more sex?"

"Maybe," he admits, "Look at us right now."

She bites her lip and looks down, shrugging one shoulder innocently, "I see what you mean," she whispers, laying her head back down on his chest. "And is that when it turned inappropriate?" She asks.

His laugh reverberates on her ear and it makes her smile big, "Maybe," he admits, "But in all honestly, babe, I just…I'm glad we found that part of ourselves again." He says. "Being back in this gym tonight brings back a lot of memories. Seeing those intramural pictures in the hall…that brought back a lot of memories, too. The ones where we'd just hang out as long as we possibly could without losing too much sleep, or where we'd die of laughter over something one of us said in my truck on the way home one night from a game. Things like that." He says and shrugs, "And then I got to thinking of the times when we'd sneak out of your dorm whenever your roommate was around and we'd either go to my dorm or my truck or God only knows where," he says in a lower tone, "And we'd do things that should've never crossed our minds."

Once again, her face heats up, and she actually feels it warm her mask up this time, "Yeah," is all she manages to get out before swallowing back some sort of mixture of a moan and a squeal. "Remember when I had to go to the doctor?"

"And she told you that you were going at it too often and needed to slow down?" He asks.

She laughs quietly, "Yeah," she says, "Pretty embarrassing, but somehow it made me feel like I had some kind of bad girl side."

"You do," Henry reminds playfully, and he sets his head on top of hers again with that comment, leaving them to dance in just the music without their dialogue added in.

The two are so enamored with each other that what neither of them realize (a total dishonor to their spy senses) is that many of the attendees are giving them little looks before whispering to their partners or friends, trying to figure out who the two are. Elizabeth's leg is still tucked inappropriately far into Henry's legs, and their bodies are moving as though they are completely one as Henry continues to lead in swaying them back and forth.

Some of the students have taken little secretive pictures with their cameras, the professors are leaning into each other and whispering things like, "Who is that? They surely don't work here," and "They sure are dancing close."

But Elizabeth and Henry have no idea, and all they hear is the music, and Elizabeth gets the pleasure of hearing his heart do a little thump thump against her right ear, barely able to hear it over the sound of the beautiful music.

When the song is over, one of the school's deans comes up to announce that dinner will be served, and that everyone should make their way back to their seats.

However, Elizabeth and Henry didn't even really hear her until people starting shuffling and plates started clanging. Without saying a word, just exchanging one glance, Elizabeth takes Henry's hand and leads him the opposite way from the tables and toward the exit.

Another thing the two never realized is that Elizabeth's clutch that she had laid on Henry's seat, waiting for him to come back to her, had fallen when he moved the chair and was sitting on the basketball flooring underneath the table.

When they give the coat room their tickets for each of their coats, they begin their trek to their car in complete silence. Neither of them had words, but they were holding each other's hand, and that's all that mattered in that moment.

They pull up to the house and see the complete darkness inside, knowing that the kids are all away for the night. Jason was at his first spend-the-night birthday party, Stevie was at a friend's house, and Alison was also at a sleepover. They had this entire house to themselves.

Although the car ride home had been uneventful, just the two holding hands over the console, they barely made it up the steps before Elizabeth had turned to Henry and crashed into his lips. He had the keys in his hand, ready to slide it into the door, but the sudden movement made him drop the keys to his feet.

Once he recovers from the shock, he grabs her body and pulls it to him, sliding one hand up underneath her shawl in the front and finding that plunging neckline, pulling the material down and wrapping his hand around her.

She moans into his mouth, letting her body fall on his a bit before pulling away, staring at him as though he was the one to attack her. "I need you," she breathes.

He fumbles in his pockets and realizes, suddenly, that he'd already gotten the keys out. He looks around on the ground and finds them between their feet, and when he dips down to grab them, she grabs the back of his head and pulls him into her.

"I need you," she repeats a little more forcefully, and she looks down at him as he looks up from her hips, "I need you now."

"Out here?" Henry asks with a little chuckle, half-expecting her to maybe say yes.

"It's a little cold," she breathes and lets herself laugh, "But as soon as we step in that door and close it behind us, Henry, I need you to throw me on that couch, light the fire in the fireplace, and take this dress off me."

He's sliding the key into the hole and turning it, "And then?"

"And then…" She whispers, stepping inside and looking back at him over her shoulder, "And then I need you." She stopped as though she was going to add to that, but she just bit her lip and took his hand instead.

He walks in the house and shuts the door, "And then?" He whispers, peppering kisses down her neck.

She pushes him off gently, almost begrudgingly, but she knows they need a fire in here to keep warm. This old farmhouse didn't have a great heating system. "Henry…" she breathes, closing her eyes as he is persistent in his kissing and suckling down her neck and her chest, "I need you to build that fire." She says, trying to focus long enough for that.

He puts one hand at the base of her head and pushes his fingers through the back of her hair, his turn to smash his lips into hers. They stay like this for a few moments in the total darkness, the door closed, and then he pulls away, "I need you to say it. I need you to say what you need from me." He whispers.

She bites her lip, "Or what?"

He smiles, "I love it when we play this game."

February 11, 2008

Elizabeth turns the key to her office door and hears heels walking down the hall a little faster when she steps into her office, "Professor Adams," she hears a woman's voice saying, "I need to see you."

She steps back out of her office to see her dean walking toward her at an aggressive pace, "Dean Wilkins," she says, "Is everything alright?" She asks, wondering if she somehow has been busted for playing this game with the students, for leading them to believe she's unmarried and is interested in Henry. She never thought a college or university would care since their students are adults, but now she's wondering if maybe she took it too far.

"Oh, yes," Dean Wilkins replies, "I was just on my way down to visit another professor in this building, and someone mentioned that they'd found your clutch Friday at the masquerade ordeal." She says.

"Oh!" Elizabeth says, thankful that someone had found it. She'd woken up the next morning—admittedly, around nine—and realized that her driver's license, her credit cards, everything was in that clutch that she had left somewhere but had no idea where. "Where did they find it? And who found it?"

Dean Wilkins shrugs, "I'm not sure who, unfortunately, but someone turned it in to security that same night of Mardi Gras."

She takes the clutch gently from Dean Wilkins' hands and smiles, "Thank you so much," she says, and soon the dean was on her way down the hall once more.

Elizabeth walks into her class on time this morning, "Good morning, everyone," she says as she dips into her normal routine, "We have a lot to move through today, so go ahead and be ready as I am getting things on the projector. I'll be explaining as I set up." She warns.

While she's typing her computer password in, she hears some snickers and realizes it's from some of the more delinquent-type students she has. She looks up and watches them, knowing that usually gets them to quiet down, but this time it didn't work. Soon, the whole class is snickering, and she just squints, "Is there something you all would like to share?"

Kevin is the first to speak, "It's just that there's this picture going around on some group chats," he says, "UVA is wondering who the mystery couple is."

Elizabeth frowns, "What are you talking about?"

John pipes in now, and Elizabeth is surprised it's not the girls talking. They're being incredibly quiet, actually. "See," John says, flipping her phone around to her.

When she looks, she sees her dress, Henry's tux, and their masks over their faces. It was so dark in there that her hair doesn't really look recognizable, though, and Henry's hair looks way more black than it really is. "What's so odd about that?" She asks, "There were lots of faculty there," she explains, trying to cover for herself.

"They were so close." Molly adds, "Really close." She's looking into Elizabeth's eyes like she knows it's her, but how could she possibly know that it was Elizabeth? She can't, Elizabeth decides, and she just shrugs her shoulders.

"Some people drink a little too much alcohol at those functions," she says nonchalantly, thinking about the killer headache she had all day Saturday during her recovery from the night before. It was partially from Elizabeth accidentally hitting her head on the table beside the couch, but also mostly from the alcohol she had consumed. She wasn't sure how Henry hadn't drank anything that night, but she'd consumed enough for the two of them.