Guests

AN: I want to start off by saying that I wish this site would let me respond to reviews directly like Ao3 does so I could address your comments/concerns, but I can't, so I wanted to make a quick note here… In regard to the reviews on "Blame", I realize that some of my stories feature characters that may not perfectly align with the ones seen on our screen, but 99% of my stories?! I wouldn't go that far. In my opinion, I've been putting some solid stuff out. Have you read the pieces in my 9/11 series (First Time, Something in the Blue, Painting the Sky, and Closure)? I feel like those stories, to name a few, give an accurate representation of the characters. In my eyes, "Blame" kept the characters true to themselves too. Maybe this Elizabeth flirted a bit more than the Elizabeth the MSec writers created would, but that tied into the whole point of the story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this piece. It's something light, an attempt at humor.

Given her job, she usually came home to a set dining room table, a hot meal on the stove, and a husband waiting for a kiss. After a long day at the State Department, she looked forward to falling into his arms. But, thanks to a canceled meeting with an ambassador, Elizabeth was the one waiting for Henry tonight.

Perched on the edge of the dining room table, she wondered if this was how a housewife felt. Earlier, she'd cooked a rigatoni pasta bake. It was one of the few dishes Elizabeth knew she wouldn't burn. Once the pan was placed into the oven, she'd set two place settings. After Henry had texted his ETA, she'd lit the candles surrounding the vase of flowers that she'd cut from one of the bushes in their garden.

"Mom would be proud," Elizabeth muttered to herself.

Growing up, she'd rebelled against her mother's insistence that she help her in the kitchen. Elizabeth had been jealous of her brother's pre-dinner responsibilities: practicing his golf swing, skeet shooting with their father, or tending to the horses in the barn. If only Suzanne Adams could see her now. Of her own volition, she'd cooked, she'd planned out a tablescape, and she'd tended to the flower beds.

It was all for her husband.

Hearing the flutter of the front door, Elizabeth snapped to attention. Her heart sped up from the anticipation of tonight. Quickly, she straightened up.

"I'm home," Henry called from the entryway.

Smiling, Elizabeth spread her legs. She was dressed in nothing but one of the kitchen aprons. Surely, Suzanne Adams was now rolling over in her grave.

Footsteps grew closer.

"What'd you decide on for dinner?"

"Well, I was hoping…" When Henry stepped into the doorway, she bit her lip. "That you could start by eating me."

His eyes blew wide. "Babe, I—"

"Oh my God."

Catching another man's voice amidst her husband's, her eyes jumped past Henry's shoulder.

"Oh my God," Elizabeth repeated as she quickly brought her legs together. Both Jay and Blake hovered in the living room, files stacked high in their hands. Even as they averted their eyes, her cheeks flamed. "What the fuck?"

"I—" Henry stepped into the room, eyes darting anywhere other than toward the table. "Jay was signing in with security when I pulled up. And Blake…" Finally, he looked at her again. "Jesus, Elizabeth."

Standing, she crossed an arm over her chest. Although both Jay and Blake were turned around, facing the fireplace, she tried to cover up as best she could. The apron didn't hide a lot— it sat low on her chest, just barely covering her nipples. She'd also purposefully kept the tie loose around her waist to show a lot of skin around her hips. And, of course, a whole lot of leg.

"Well…" She laughed. Here she was nearly naked in front of her husband and, arguably, two of the three other men who were most important in her life. "I'll go and put on much more clothing if we're having guests."

"Ma'am," Jay muttered. With his back to her, he raised his hand, asking for her attention. "I think we'll just leave you and Henry to it." The back of his head shook. "Not it, as in sex, but as in eating." He glanced at Blake who'd shot him a glare. "Not eating… Oh, God."

After setting the files in his arms on the coffee table, Blake spoke up. "What Jay is trying to say is we'll see you at the office."

Jesus Christ, the office…

How would she meet their eyes in meetings knowing that they'd both had a clear shot to stare in between her legs? They would have to keep a straight face after hearing her ask her husband to eat her pussy. Tipping her head back, Elizabeth hoped that they were more mortified than she was right now.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Jay said before he and Blake made a swift exit.

Once the front door slammed, Henry turned to her, trying his best to bite back a huge grin.

"Don't you dare," she warned, pointing a finger.

"You have to admit, it's a little funny."

With her palms, she touched her cheeks, questioning whether that really just happened. Just as Henry stepped up to her, taking her into his arms, the timer of the oven dinged. Not wanting the rigatoni to burn, Elizabeth wiggled away from him. When she turned, he playfully swatted at her bare ass.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he said, following her into the kitchen.

Technically, this wasn't his fault, but she still wanted to pretend that she was mad at him for a little while longer.

"How about we start over?" Henry suggested. "The kids won't be home until late," he reminded. "I'll go back to the front door." He teasingly tugged at the tie around her waist. "You go and sit that pretty ass of yours on the table."

"Henry," she whispered as she set the hot dish on the stove.

Tonight was supposed to be something special for the both of them. Something fun on a Thursday night. In the past, they'd both teased about modeling an apron au naturel, but they'd never actually gotten around to doing it. Now, the mood seemed as good as ruined.

"The most important part here is that you stay that naked."

Elizabeth smirked as she slipped the oven mitts off of her hands.

"Alright," she agreed.