A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you're having a great April thus far.

This is a little story that will probably turn into a few chapters of story, and I'm excited to try to delve into Elizabeth and Henry's relationship backstory a little more.

In this piece, I start with direct dialogue from the show (episode 18, season 2) when Maureen is laying into Henry about "Queen Elizabeth," and then later on when Stevie and Elizabeth are talking about Henry's family. The entire first piece (marked January 2016) is from the show, so if it sounds familiar...that's why. I felt like I needed to go in depth for that because it felt very plagiarise-y without this (sorry folks, I'm in academia...professor life will always be part of me!)

Anyway, I've talked enough. Here's this new story that I hope you all will enjoy.


January 31, 2016

"Trying to one up all of us like usual." Maureen shook her head, pointing her thumb back at Elizabeth, "You know what we call her."

She stood next to Stevie, forgetting to blink during the fight that was unfolding in Patrick McCord's living room, "Queen Elizabeth," Elizabeth mumbled.

"Queen Elizabeth, like it's a big secret!" Henry yelled, lunging toward Maureen, "We're not stupid, Maureen, we're not deaf!"

The kids were coming down the stairs, and some people were arguing again, but Elizabeth was solely focused on Henry and Maureen.

"When you took up with Elizabeth," Maureen quipped, "You changed!"

"That's enough!" Henry was yelling again, and Elizabeth just stood in shock.

"Turning your nose up at us 'yinzers,'" Maureen was still going on, even though Henry had put his foot down, "Acting like a new man with a fancy degree and a rich wife!"

Henry stepped further in her face, and Elizabeth felt Stevie grip onto her arm, "You are way over the line, Maureen!"

A few days later after Patrick's funeral, Elizabeth was packing their bags to leave when Stevie walked in the room. "I bet you're glad to be getting home," she said from the doorway, watching as Elizabeth folded a coat and placed in it a suitcase. "Get back to being yourself."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

"I don't know…it's just…" Stevie walked in further, "At home, you would never let anyone talk to you the way that Aunt Maureen does. Why don't you ever shut her down?"

Elizabeth raised her head, straightened her back, and sighed, "Oh, Stevie, I was so young when my parents died. Then it was just your Uncle Will and me." She explained while packing more clothes, stuffing them down into the suitcase while she told the stories of them being alone on Thanksgiving and Christmas, and how quiet everything was.

She was sitting on the bed next to Stevie now and placed her hand on top of her daughter's, "And then I fell in love with your dad. And he took me home and introduced me to his big, messy, ruckus family." Elizabeth laughed, looking down and thinking back to those memories, "At the McCord house? It was never quiet. Sometimes they're laughing, sometimes fighting. It's always loud and…on fire. And if I shut Maureen down, I'd be putting out that fire. I don't wanna do that. I just wanna be apart of it. You know?"


December 1, 1990

"This church is perfect." Henry says from underneath the cross hoisted up on the wall.

Elizabeth is standing between the rows of pews, about halfway down to the front of the church where Henry was gawking at the crucifix, "Yeah." She says, her voice sounding a bit more distant than she meant for it to. She looks around and finds herself feeling very tiny in this otherwise huge place—almost feeling as though she was just an ant crawling on the floor.

Henry walks down the steps from the alter, "What's wrong, babe? Don't you like it?" He asks, walking toward her.

She shrugs, "I—yeah, I do." She says, "It's just—Henry, I don't know. It's big."

"Of course it's big, babe, we're going to have—how many guests again?"

She sighs and shakes her head, "I'm rethinking that." She admits, "I mean, do I really want to see all the people I went to boarding school with? All of my class? I really only was friends with a few people, and most of those people live overseas now and I don't even know if—"

"Babe," Henry stops her, placing his hand on her shoulder and tilting his head, "What is this really about?"

She turns her head away from him, looking at the stained-glass windows to the right of her and across the wooden pews. The way the sun shined through the pinks and blues and greens made the pew light up and shimmer. Something about the grandiosity of the scene made her feel like she was being crushed.

Last weekend, Henry had gone fishing with an old buddy of his while she went to a coffee shop down the street from their future apartment. She brought all the wedding plans that they'd made so far with her, planning on using her math skill to make a budget. While making the budget, though, the words she wrote down in the columns is what got to her.

First, she put "bridesmaids" in there. She was trying to scrape her mind to think of who possible choices for her bridesmaids could be. Most of the people she'd been friends with at boarding school were men—all the girls were a little too dramatic for her taste. There was one girl that she would love to ask: Jennie Hugh. They were best friends their whole junior year, but Jennifer's family took her out of that school and brought her back to the UK, and Elizabeth hasn't been able to get in touch with her since. Other than Jennie, the slots for "bridesmaids" stayed blank. "Easier for the budget," she thought to herself, but that thought just made her throat and chest tighten up.

After writing in a few more slots for the budget, her mind went to the thought of her walking down the aisle. "Will I walk alone?" She thought, then scrapped that idea and thought of, maybe, Will walking her down. But then she tossed that idea, thinking about how pitiful it would look to have her teen brother walking her down the aisle. She doodled on the page in front of her as she tried to think of other options, but the only one she could think of was her walking all by herself.

The thought kept playing over and over in her mind, and finally she just had to close her notebook up and pack her things, taking one last sip of her coffee and rushing to her car. That was the first time she'd cried in a while, but something about releasing all those pent up emotions was cathartic.

"Do we want a big wedding?" She asks Henry, standing in the church after pulling herself away from those memories of last weekend. "Because, Henry, I don't know if I can imagine myself walking down this aisle all alone—it's huge and everything is so—"

He wraps her in his arms and pulls her tightly into his chest, "Babe," he whispers, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "We don't have to do it this way."

"But you want this." She whispers, "And I want it, too, but the thought of trying to find women to be my bridesmaids on top of trying to pull myself together long enough to walk down this dam—" She was about to cuss, then remembered where she was standing and clenches her eyelids shut, "To walk down this aisle."

He pushes her gently from his body, looking into her eyes as he wipes underneath them, drying the little bit of tears that had escaped. "Let's just go get married."

"That's what we're trying to do, Henry."

"No," he says, "Let's go now."

"We can't right now."

"Why not?"

"I want Will to be there." She admits, "And your family." She thinks for a moment and realizes that even though she knows they call her Queen Elizabeth behind her back, everyone except Mrs. McCord, but she still wants them there for herself, not just for Henry. They deserve to see their brother get married, and she wants the loudness of the McCords to surround their union.

He shifts his weight to one foot, shrugging his shoulders as he puts his hands in his pants pockets, "Then let's plan a courthouse wedding." He says, "Nothing big. Nothing fancy. Just you, me, a judge, and our closest family members."

She looks at him and sucks her lips into her mouth, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, "Okay." She whispers, "I'm sorry." She says after a moment.

"For what?"

Tilting her head down, she shrugs at him and shakes her head, "I know you wanted a big wedding, too." She says, "And you won't get to see me in a wedding dress and won't get to listen to me terribly sing Peter Frampton at our reception."

He laughs and hugs her again, kissing the top of her head, "We have the rest of our lives for you to sing Peter Frampton to me, Elizabeth." He whispers, "And maybe one day we can have a big party to celebrate our marriage. Maybe when we have our five kids and—"

"Oh no, nope." She says, pulling away, "Not this again."

"Babe!" He laughs and raises his brow, "We came to the agreement that—"

"Oh no," She says, putting her finger into his chest, "You came up with that idea on your own. There was never an 'agreement' from the other party." She explains, then points to herself, "You know, me. The other party. The one who actually has to carry them and birth them. You'll be lucky to get one out of me, Henry McCord." She says all this, but she knows she'd be willing to have ten kids if that's what Henry desperately wanted. She knows that she wants that big, fiery family like he has had his whole life.

"Oh, come on."

"Nope," she insists, but now she's smiling as she holds back a laugh, "Maybe two. But don't even think of a third."

He wraps his arm around her back, leading them down the aisle toward the doors. "Fine. Two." He says, "And then maybe a—"

"If you say third, the last time you have sex with me is on our honeymoon."

"I was going to say maybe a dog." He says, looking down at her with one eyebrow cocked up, "I can't believe you just said that in the place of the Lord."

She looks back as they walk through the sanctuary doors, "Hey, sex is biblical." She reminds him, "You should know that."

He kisses her cheek, "Yeah, but every time I think of it?" He asks as they walk to the parking lot and he's grabbing his keys from his pocket. He leans into her ear and whispers, "It's definitely not biblical."

She bites her lip and looks at him as he lets go of her, walking to the passenger side of his Bronco. "Henry James McCord." She gasps, the burning in her stomach causing her to stop in her tracks on the sidewalk.

He's smirking as he opens the door, waiting for her to move her feet and make her way over to him. "Yeah, you say my name a lot like that in those fantasies."

She walks over to him and playfully smacks him on the chest, "I can't believe you." She quips, getting into his truck.

He kisses her on the cheek quickly, "But you love me anyway."


December 2, 1990

"You ready?" Henry asks, looking over at Elizabeth in the passenger seat.

She sighs, keeping her eyes on the house in front of her. "Are you sure they're going to take it well?"

He laughs a little, settling into his seat as if he knows this'll be a long conversation. "Babe," he says, "You were there when I told them I was going to be deployed. They were yelling at me as if I had something to do with my own deployment." He reminds her.

She's still staring at the house where she knows all three of his siblings are, plus his two parents. Henry had called them yesterday and told them that he and Elizabeth had something to tell them, and that they would be over for lunch. But now that they're here, ready to tell them that the wedding was off and that they would just be doing a simple, quiet wedding…she didn't feel ready. Her head falls over as she looks for him, finding his eyes and staring into them, "Your family has always been like that." She whispers.

"Ever since I can remember."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, "That's what I've always loved about them." The whisper that comes out of her mouth is so quiet that she can barely hear it herself, but she knows Henry heard her when he slides his hand over the top of hers and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I know." He answers in a soft tone like hers, "And I'm really grateful for that. They're not for everyone."

Her eyes open and find his again, nodding, "I think I'm as ready as I will ever be."

They get out of his truck and head on in, and Maureen is the first one to pipe up after the table was set and everyone was at their seats. "So," she says, her husband sitting in the chair beside her and eyeing her, knowing that she was about to say something he'd regret, "I'm guessing this family meeting is because Elizabeth's pregnant?"

Henry's fork drops on his plate just as he'd picked it up, and Elizabeth chokes on the bite of mashed potatoes that she'd just swallowed. "What?" Henry sputters, his eyes wide and shocked.

"Elizabeth's pregnant?" Mrs. McCord asks, her hands up to her mouth in surprise.

"Elizabeth's not pregnant." Henry answers, then looks at Elizabeth and narrows his eyes.

"No," Elizabeth states while still choked up from the mashed potatoes she'd just coughed up, "I'm definitely not."

"You have to be." Maureen says, "Why else would anything be so serious and urgent to call a family meeting?"

Elizabeth is wiping her mouth after taking a sip of water, her eyes teary from the choking she'd just done. "I'm definitely not pregnant, Maureen." She says in a more stern tone, letting her face do a lot of the talking this time.

"Surely not," Mrs. McCord says, "Henry knows better than to have sex before marriage."

"Mom!" Henry says, and Elizabeth feels her face heat up. She hopes it's not noticeable, but the way Erin and Shane—his two younger siblings—are staring at her tells her that they know just by looking at the blush on her face.

"What?" Mrs. McCord says, picking up the bowl of peas and scooping a spoonful onto her plate, "You do. It's a sin, Henry." She explains, and Henry is groaning with his hands over his face.

Elizabeth clears her throat, "I—"

"We all know Henry and Elizabeth are sleeping together." Patrick says, and Henry shoots him a look. Henry's father is pointing across the table to Elizabeth, "What? We do. Just look at Elizabeth's face."

"Oh my God." Elizabeth mumbles, setting her napkin in her lap as Henry stands up from his seat.

"I refuse to listen to any more of this." Henry says, "We came here to tell you that we're just having a small, family-only wedding at the courthouse because we don't want a big, fancy wedding with people we don't even know that well. But never mind—none of you are welcome." He growls, throwing his napkin down on his plate and scooting his chair back from the table to slide out.

Elizabeth watches him as he leaves, then realizes she should definitely follow him since all eyes are on her. She stands up, trying to make her legs work as she scoots her chair back and holds onto the table. The napkin she'd folded in her lap fell to the floor, and she bends over to pick it up and lay it beside her plate before rushing to the living room to find Henry. "Babe?" She calls out, seeing the open front door. She walks through and finds him sitting on the front steps, his hands writhing in each other's grip. "Henry…" She coos, sitting down next to him and wrapping her arm around him.

"No," Henry says, "That—that was not acceptable." He says. "Who does Maureen think she is to talk like that? And my father?!"

Elizabeth sighs and looks out in front of them, rubbing his arm with one hand and the side furthest from her with her other hand. She thinks of some words, but nothing feels right. She doesn't really know what to say to him. He's right, Maureen was way out of line. Patrick was also way out of line. What do you say to that? "I'm sorry," she finally comes up with.

He shakes his head, "You have nothing to be sorry about, Elizabeth." He murmurs, "You're not the one who needs to apologize." He looks down at his feet, and she feels his breathing is still erratic, "Maureen is. And she will, along with my dad. They both will apologize to you."

"You don't have to make them apologize, Henry," Elizabeth whispers, frowning as she looks over at him. "Was it out of line? Yeah," she continues, "But that's your family, Henry. They're out of line more than they're in it. That's what I've always enjoyed about your family. Nothing is neat and quiet; nothing is boxed up and wrapped in a pretty little bow." She says, her spine getting a chill down it from the snow gathering on top of her head. "It's always messy here."

He sighs, still looking between his feet. "It was disrespectful." He says angrily, but now a little calmer.

"It was true." She whispers.

He whips his head around, staring at her like she has two heads, "You're pregnant?"

"God, no!" She blurts out, her eyes widening as she hits his arm, "No! It was true that we're having sex, Henry." She hisses, trying to keep her voice down in case there were any eavesdroppers near the windows—namely Shane and Erin, the two sneaky ones. "Good sex. Sex that we'll have for the rest of our lives until neither of us can walk anymore. And maybe even after that, depending on how good our health is." She waits a minute before smiling, then rubs his side again, "Henry, babe, this is just a moment. One that was out of line and wild, but one that we probably won't even remember years from now."

He laughs and turns his head to look at her again, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging, "You think?"

She thinks for a moment, then bites her lip and shakes her head, "That might've been a lie. I'll probably remember the embarrassment of that moment until I die."

His chuckle makes her smile again, and he just sits there shaking his head while it hangs between his shoulders, "Are you sure you don't want to back out?" He whispers.

Elizabeth leans her cheek on his shoulder, "I'm sure." She whispers, "Plus I know we're living at least one state away from them for the rest of our lives. We visit on holidays." She adds, smirking while she cranes her neck to look up at him. "And that's it."

He smiles at her, bending over to kiss her lips. "I guess I should un-uninvite them from our wedding."

"That's probably not a good way to start off our marriage if we ban your family from coming." She quips as they stand up, turning their bodies toward each other.

Both of his hands wrap around both of hers, and he swings them a little before leaning in and kissing her once more. "I love you." He whispers, "Thank you for loving me for all that I am."

She smiles softly, "Thank you for loving me for all that I'm not." She replies, thinking of the lack of father-in-law and mother-in-law that Henry will have for his whole life. She pressed one more, quick kiss to his lips before they both turned and headed back into the house. When they open the door, they hear footsteps rushing back to the dining table.

Immediately, they smile at each other—they both know Erin and Shane were eavesdropping. "Part of me hopes they heard us talking about sex just so they can report back to Maureen about it." Henry whispers with a smirk.

Elizabeth bites her lip and continues walking into the dining room, and they both take their seats as Henry explains the plans calmly. She looks over at him throughout his little spiel, wondering if his family would ever actually accept her. As he talks so passionately about their love and about their desire for a small wedding, she knows it doesn't matter if they accept her or not. She knows that no matter what, he will always be her family.