A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you're enjoying your week so far. I'm exhausted these days, but was watching some MSec over dinner and decided I'd like to see the scene in 1.07 play out a little further. A good bit further ;-)

Hope you enjoy!

"I have a source," Daisy's words are playing back in her head as she pulls up on their Georgetown home, "A very close one…that tells me he's having an affair."

The security agent is getting out and walking around to her door, but she's stuck in a bit of a trance as she looks at their doorway to their home. When the agent opens the car door for her, her eyes are still fixed in that direction.

"Ma'am?" He says, peeking around the door at her through his sunglasses.

She blinks once, her eyelids slow to re-open after not sleeping for so long, "Sorry John." She says, just starting to come out of her trance. Her eyes drop down to her hands, watching for a moment as she continues to pinch the diamond of her ring between her fingers, twisting it around on her finger so much on the drive here that she just noticed her finger is sore and red.

With a flick of her hand, almost as if she's flipping water off, she makes herself stop and steps out of the car, "Thanks," she says to the man who had been so patiently holding the door open for her, walking herself up to the door past her other team of security agents.

When she walks into their hallway, she turns and faces the door again. Just walk back out, Elizabeth, before you do something you're going to regret, she tells herself as her hand rests momentarily on the wood before pushing it closed the rest of the way. She shuts her eyes, almost ready to fall forward and lean against the door with her forehead before she hears his voice.

"Hey, there you are!" He's saying as she turns around, walking toward him.

He's happy to see her, so she returns the happiness in a tired sort of way, giving him a careful hug.

There have been few times in their marriage when she felt like giving a hug to her husband was a job. The first time she remembers this feeling was when she was about to pop with Alison—she'd been chasing their toddler around all day and Henry had come home ready to blabber all about his book that he was just on the verge of finishing and publishing.

"Henry!" She snapped, "Henry, I am so tired that you wouldn't even begin to understand. I don't want to hear about your book right now!"

After he cooked dinner in total silence later that evening, she'd felt so bad that she knew she needed to apologize. The thought of apologizing, though, at this stage of tiredness…it was an atrocity, truly. But she did, and he opened his arms out for her to come into them, and she just stared at his chest for a moment.

The hot months hadn't rolled around just yet, but at nine months pregnant, every month is a hot month. And an uncomfortable one, too. The thought of arms wrapping around her made her want to run the other way, if only she thought she could've run at the time. But she stepped forward, her body almost trying to put the brakes on itself to keep her from doing it, but she leaned in and gave him what he was asking for. What he was providing, really, as an acceptance of her apology. Like a good husband should.

Now she stands in his arms, her hands resting on his waist as he kisses her cheek and greets her more personally. She takes a deep breath in as he hugs her, trying to smell for any clue of a stranger on him, glancing on his shoulder to look for any sign of hair that wasn't her shade of blonde. For a moment, as she tilts her head back just slightly, she feels as if a stranger is caressing her—a stranger who is happy to see her, but a stranger, nonetheless.

She does the back pat that most people would do for a stranger as the other hand rests against his stomach, gently moving to push her body off of his.

"What?" He asks after finally realizing that she's giving him a weird treatment, letting her free of his arms as he examines her expression.

After she explains that she thought he was at the archives, where he said he'd be, where he was supposed to be in order to miss this trip which changed her life in too many ways, she stares at the back of him and looks quickly for any sign once more of a stranger being in her place.

She grits her teeth a little too hard and stands stock still, her arms dangling at her side as she fidgets with the hems of her coat's sleeve. Finally, she throws her hands up at her sides, "Are you having an affair?" The way she says it surprises even her—it almost sounds as if she's joking. Maybe a piece of her thinks this is all a big joke, that Daisy is in on some kind of prank her husband is pulling. Maybe a piece of her wants to believe this is a joke, even if she knows there's a possibility with the extra work and the extra stress she's brought into their home.

But when he just stares at her after she explains she doesn't believe it, she feels foolish. The shock in his face says way too much, and the dizziness she feels is no longer just from a lack of food in the last twenty-four hours. She's not sure she has any blood in her upper half of her body, or even in her body at all. It feels as though everything is gone, and she stumbles backwards as she says, "Oh my God," blinking a few times and turning away from him.

"No," he says sternly, making her eyes jut to the side at him.

"Well," she huffs, shaking her head, "You're going to have to be a lot more convincing…immediately."

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

He's starting to seal it for her as her brain starts working double time to figure out what is going on with him, why he's been seen with another woman and why he took so long to say no in the first place. As she argues with him, she's pulling puzzle pieces together—the archives? Another woman? Had to stay in the States? A deflective-ness that—

That she's realized. "You're working for the NSA again." She doesn't ask it, she declares it. And when he doesn't deny it, she feels the crushing weight lift from her lungs, feeling the ache that was there since Daisy mentioned a potential affair.

He finally explains it all, as much as he can at least. "I can still say no," he finishes.

"Of course you can't." She breathes, lunging toward him and flinging her arms around him.

This isn't a stranger. This isn't forced. This is her husband, the man she loves, and her best friend. As he's kissing her neck, she feels the blood come back to her body in a rush, pulling him tightly to her to steady herself.

She breathes out again, closing her eyes, "You had me worried, McCord, I won't lie." She says, breathing in and taking the scent of him in. No smell of stranger, no trace of anyone else on him whatsoever. "You're only mine." She adds quietly, making one more declaration before he pulls away.

He looks her in the eyes and slides his hands up her body, bringing them to her jawbones, "All yours." He whispers, then smirks, "And the NSA's."

"You've always been some sort of property of the U.S. Government in all these years that I've known you." She teases, feeling the warmth of his palms on her cheeks as she smiles, pressing them into his hands more. "You just can't stay away from them—and really, maybe I shouldn't ever have been worried about a cute young woman." She says, puckering her lips playfully and batting her eyes, "Maybe it's the U.S. Government you have an eye for over your wife."

He bites his lip and lets one hand slide down the side of her neck, down to her shoulder and over her arm. He stops at her elbow, giving it a little squeeze as he bends his neck to kiss just above her collarbone.

Her head falls over into the hand that's still resting on her face, and she closes her eyes. "Mmmph." She groans, so tired that she feels like she could fall over right here. "I need to get back to work."

"So soon?" He asks, his lips brushing against her skin as his voice vibrates off it. "I almost lost you in an earthquake, I can't have you for a few more minutes?"

"The U.S. Government is our pimp, Henry, what can I say?" She murmurs, her head tilting back a bit more.

He slides his hand quickly to the back of her neck as she starts falling backwards, grabbing her just at her nape.

Her eyes fly open and she lets out a laugh, "Wow," she chuckles, "That was a close one."

He smiles, kissing her lips before dragging his teeth against her lower one.

She tries to muffle a moan before asking, "Where are the kids?"

"School," he says, running both of his hands at the small of her back, "And work."

Her arms reach up to wrap around his neck, "I believe I need something to keep me going a little longer, in that case."

He raises a brow and smirks, "A nap?"

"A nap would be…God, a nap would be amazing," she almost moans, "But I'm afraid if I take a nap now that I won't wake up until Christmas." She clarifies, tilting her head over and grinning up at him, "Something that gets my heart racing a bit."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, his hands drifting downward and finding where her thigh meets her rear, scooping his hands underneath.

She lets out the tiniest squeak, then bites her lip, "Think you can manage that?" She asks.

"For you?" He asks, not waiting on her answer before lifting her on his hips and turning toward the stairs, walking her over, "I can manage anything."

She smiles as he walks them up the stairs, knowing that soon enough, she'll be wide awake. He's all hers, forever, and soon enough, he'll remind her that she's all his, too.

He tosses her on the bed with just the slightest thud before working at her belt, and the thought briefly crosses her mind that she's not even sure she's shaved her legs in the last week. When she feels the cool air touch her legs, she doesn't care anymore—he's seen her in worse positions.

She reaches for his face, pulling it down with a burst of energy so that he falls on top of her. He laughs against her lips and rolls off her, "I'm going to squish you."

"Squish me." She murmurs, kissing his lips again but ultimately feeling breathless. She pulls away and looks at him, licking her lips and resting her hand on his chest as he works at the buttons on the tie on her shirt, undoing it and ready to slide it over her head. "Henry?" She whispers.

"What is it?" He asks, and her heart feels a little lighter when she realizes he recognizes the tone of her voice had changed from something slightly carnal to something a little more serious.

She smiles a little at him before looking down at the ring on her finger. Its glimmers are courtesy of the sunlight shining through their bedroom window, and she drags her gaze up to find his eyes sparkling just as much as her ring. "I never want to have to wonder if you're cheating on me again," she admits, "It was only for a few minutes, but it was the most terrifying minutes I've lived through in a long time." She whispers, staring him right in the eyes.

He scoops her hand up by her wrist off of his chest, bringing it to his mouth and kissing her fingers a few times, "I want you to know you'll never, ever need to wonder if I have strayed, Elizabeth. I love you, and only you." He says, "You're mine, and I'm forever yours."

She smiles tiredly, batting her eyelids and feeling that drowsiness come on once more when she does. "Then show me," she whispers, laying down and keeping her eyes on his, pulling her knees apart and taking his hand to guide it and place it between her legs.

When his fingers start to move just slightly, she feels her breath hitch, suddenly a little annoyed that she still has a piece of cloth between her body and his skin. She shuts her eyes, trying to not get frustrated and just enjoy it, but he's sliding that piece of cloth to the side and slipping downward. Her eyes open when she hears a slippery noise, and then she feels his fingers inside her. "Oh." She lets out, simultaneously losing her breath and sucking it in at the same time.

He starts moving his body down hers as he smiles at her, and she feels like putty already. Her body had been so tense, had been so stressed from the lack of sleep and the happenings in India, but just two of his fingers were making her feel the most relaxed she's been in ages, let alone since she'd been to India.

He leans down and brings their lips together again as he moves his fingers deeper in her. Her hand comes up to the back of his neck, threading her fingers at the base of his hairline a few times and moaning into his kisses before pressing her head against the bed. "Henry," she manages, her eyelids still droopy as she looks into his eyes, "I need you."

He doesn't stop, though, and instead just keeps going as he moves their bodies to accommodate the space better. He pauses only momentarily to unzip his pants, kicking out of them before situating himself between her legs again and bringing his fingers up to her lips.

She glances down at them for a moment before biting her lip, sticking her tongue out and swirling the tip of it around his fingers, tasting the recent duties his fingers had just performed. She lifts her head up just slightly and closes her mouth around his fingers, dragging her teeth down from his knuckles all the way to his fingertips, and she watches as he shudders.

"You're bad." He murmurs with a smirk.

She raises her brow, "And you aren't?"

He's sliding her underwear down her legs a bit more hastily now, "Touche." He says, tossing them behind him on the floor.

She quickly manages to sit up as he's just getting settled, and she mounts his lap in a straddle. He moves his legs out from under him, sprawling them out behind her body now as he grips onto her waist, "What are you doing?"

"I want to be as close as I can to you," she whispers, taking his shirt off over his head, not even bothering with the buttons.

He's reaching around to her bra as his shirt is getting crumpled on their pillows next to them, and he tosses it on top of his shirt. "I don't want you to have to do the work," he whispers against her chest, peppering kisses down her breast lower and lower.

Her head tilts back as her back arches, pushing her breast into his mouth eagerly and letting him do his magic, "We're a team," she whispers, "And I want to be reminded of that."

"A team?"

She smiles a little and wraps her arms around his neck again, playing with the back of his hair as she brings her nose to touch the tip of his, "We're one. We move as one. We work as one." She whispers, letting one hand come down between them as she grips him and moves her body up, sliding down on him slowly.

He lets out a breath before she watches his chest rise and fall a little quicker than normal, and she lets herself smile at that. I make him do this, she thinks to herself, This is no stranger. She brings her nose to his again and pushes their faces together before she slowly starts rolling her hips forward and backward, feeling like the breath is being sucked from her when he starts moving, too. Immediately, they find their pace.

Have you ever watched a fire in slow motion? The flames that once seemed so dangerous, so sharp and snappy, look as though you can reach out and touch them. As though the flames are just something warm, something to hold your hand. Something that dances a gentle ballet in the autumn leaves, something as familiar as the scar that you've had since childhood.

Her body is on fire from the slow flames burning between them, and as she leans her forehead on his, she can't help but be grateful for all that he is, and all that he is not. "I love you, Henry," she whispers, continuing to roll her hips in motion with his, reeling as his hands are teasing her breasts and making her feel like she could explode.

"I love you more, Elibet." He whispers.

The smile is uncontrollable, and she bears all her teeth at him before kissing him passionately. She's not sure how long it's been—she's not even sure of the day, the time, the year, possibly. Her head falls back as she feels her body tighten, "Henry…" She whimpers, her nails digging into his left shoulder blade as his pace gets a little quicker, a little more forceful.

Her mouth gets dry as she lets out a primal moan, her body falling against his in a heap just before she feels his release, too. Their bodies fall over to the side, still linked to one another as he runs his fingers through her hair, "You're the only woman I have ever, ever wanted, Elizabeth." He whispers, "I'll want you for as long as I live."

Her chest swells a bit as she takes a deep breath, pressing their lips together, "I better be the only you've ever wanted." She teases, already feeling a bit more awake, a bit more ready to tackle the rest of the day.