The Americans fic: Allegiances (1/1)
Title: Allegiances
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Philip/Elizabeth
Spoilers: 1x13 specifically, season in general
Word Count: ~3500
Summary: Philip and Elizabeth contemplate the future of their relationship.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
“But when will you be home?”
Elizabeth couldn’t stop the smile. It wasn’t the first time she had heard the question and it won’t be the last. And her answer (As soon as possible, I promise. When Auntie can get around better on her own) hadn’t changed. But something about the plaintiveness in Henry’s voice amused her and touched her every time. She missed him, all of them, more than she ever thought possible. Even Paige with her teenage-sassy (yet truthful) “How’s your great-aunt that I’ve never even heard of?”
The wound in her stomach was healing, but she still couldn’t move comfortably, gracefully, or naturally. She certainly couldn’t move in a way that wouldn’t raise anyone’s (Stan’s) suspicions. There were times when she felt absolutely fine and then she would turn just so and inhale sharply at her body’s sudden and unpredictable protest. She didn’t like the loss of control, the uncertainty. She never had and she never would.
Speaking of which… “Could you put Dad on the phone, please?” she asked.
Henry sighed, his mumbled love you barely audible as he moved the phone away. Within moments, Philip’s voice came over the line.
“How are you? How’s - your great-aunt?”
Elizabeth exhaled. She hadn’t seen him since a few hours after she had woken up, when she and Claudia had teamed up to send him home to the children and to sleep. A more permanent recuperation site - a safe house in Maryland - had been arranged and Elizabeth had been moved shortly after that.
“Coming along, I guess,” she replied as honestly as possible.
“Good,” he murmured. “I’m glad.”
Elizabeth licked her lips, listening to Philip breathe and the sound of the children arguing over the television in the background. She noticed she had managed to wrap the phone cord around her finger, something she had seen Paige do before, usually when she was not-as-secretly-as-she-thought whispering to a friend about Matthew Beeman. Elizabeth glanced quickly around, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t being watched, and then freed her hand.
“And you?”
“We’re doing fine,” Philip replied, a smile in his voice. “Up ‘til all hours of the night, more junk food than our bodies can handle.”
“Please tell me there’s the occasional vegetable in there somewhere,” Elizabeth begged, fighting a laugh.
“And give up my good cop status?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “They must be happy to have you home.”
Silence then, which quickly turned awkward. Philip cleared his throat, and Elizabeth closed her eyes, wishing she had thought before speaking. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Philip never actually responded to her…request.
Part of her thought that she wouldn’t be fully ready to go back until she could handle a negative answer. Or until she could commit to making the changes in her priorities that would be required with a positive one.
She didn’t like the loss of control, the uncertainty.
***
Philip sighed as he rolled over. After the first few nights on the dreadfully uncomfortable hotel bed, he had finally started to sleep easier, and even more so in the apartment. Back in the house now, back in his own bed, he was suddenly unable to sleep alone again.
It had never been his own bed.
Philip sent a pained smile into the darkness as he remembered. The first few awkward nights in the hotel when suddenly all they had prepared for became very, very real. Holding himself incredibly still next to Elizabeth, trying not to let any part of his body cross the imaginary dividing line running down the middle of the mattress. Listening to her breathe too slowly, too evenly and knowing she was still awake.
The lumpy little bed in their first dinky apartment, Center-approved as appropriate living for a young couple just starting out. The silences, the absences, even as they had started to relax around each other and grow comfortable with being in each other’s space. Feeling, somehow, that Elizabeth was mentally somewhere else all the time, even when she curled up next to him in her sleep, fingers and knees testing that imaginary line. Knowing now that she must have been dreaming she was with Gregory.
Laughing with each other as they dragged the new bed up the stairs of the new house, Elizabeth guiding and balancing, Philip pushing and supporting, half their attention on arguments about decorating the house and whether Philip could build a wine cellar. That first night, when Elizabeth came out of the bathroom in actual lingerie and told him it was time for children. Philip had been speechless, his fingers were clumsy, and he felt entirely too much like a virgin.
And then all those nights since then. Simmering anger as they fought. Quiet whispers as they planned and reported. Whimpers as they recovered from various scrapes and bruises. Far too rarely for Philip’s preferences, the soft sounds of skin against skin, of lips meeting and the bed creaking - at first, perfunctory and only for the sake of keeping up appearances, impersonal and quick. Later, with smiles and flirting, their marriage turning into something maybe-real before his mistakes and lies and her trepidations and hard stances ruined everything they had so tentatively reached out for.
He missed her. He wanted her. He really did love her.
He didn’t know if he could risk it again.
***
Elizabeth gasped, looking around in a daze as she brushed a sweaty strand of hair off her face. The therapist showed no sympathy as he nodded and said “Again” with a trace of an accent never fully lost. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and pushed herself up again.
With each repetition, she thought of all the times she had fought through the pain before, developing muscles to fight and die for her country. She thought of all the sacrifices she had made, giving up her home and her mother, her first love and her body.
She was too scared to question now if it had been worth it, even more terrified to wonder if the motivations driving her toward recovery - the need to see her children again, the chance to work things out with Philip - somehow negated all those sacrifices. If she wasn’t first and foremost a KGB agent, a loyal soldier, then what was she?
When she had told Philip that Paige and Henry would be better off with him than her, she hadn’t been lying. Try as she might, she wasn’t at all the mother they needed growing up in this time, in this country. And she wasn’t cut out to really be the devoted wife she had pretended to be for so long. Philip was right to be hesitant. Gregory was right to warn her that loving Philip would change her, would perhaps lessen her.
She didn’t know if it was too late to change, or if she even had it in her, or now that the urgency of the moment was over, if she completely wanted to, or if they even wanted her to or would be happy just to have her back, willing to accept what she was capable of giving them.
“Again, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth tried not to show any weakness as she pushed herself harder.
***
To say he was distracted was an understatement. Between taking care of the kids and the office by himself and worrying about Elizabeth, Philip had no extra energy to give Martha the attention the job required. But he certainly couldn’t ignore her, so Philip inhaled and redoubled his efforts.
It wasn’t enough, and Martha pulled away from the kiss.
“Clark?” she asked. “Is everything all right?”
Philip forced a smile, thinking quickly. “Of course. I’m sorry. We finally get a night together and I’m so - It’s just - ”
Martha gave him a loving look, lifting a hand to cup his cheek.
“Long day?”
Philip sighed and dropped his shoulders. “Long week,” he concurred.
“Us too,” Martha said, nodding as she resettled on the couch. “We’ve been very busy. Well, you know.”
“Has Agent Gaad been able to figure out what went wrong? A leak or…?”
“No real idea. And he’s been quite upset.”
Philip reached out to squeeze Martha’s arm comfortingly. “He hasn’t been taking it out on you, has he?”
“No,” she replied quickly before adding, “Well, no more than usual. It’s OK, though. I can make it through a lot of tough times at work knowing I have you to come home to.”
“It is nice to have a partner in it all, isn’t it?” Philip felt his thoughts drifting back to Elizabeth again, remembering how good of a team they actually made.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Clark,” Martha agreed.
Philip forced another smile. “Don’t worry about that,” he reassured her.
Not expecting any further information and not willing to stay there any longer than he had to, Philip switched tactics. A few more sweet nothings, a kiss or two, and some mutual groping underneath clothes would have to be enough before he talked his way out of staying the night.
***
The house was mostly dark when he walked in. Philip followed the faint sounds of the television into the living room and spotted Paige stretched out on the couch and staring forlornly ahead.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she replied half-heartedly, not even bothering to turn to look at him.
“Where’s your brother?”
“Upstairs.”
“What are you watching?”
She shrugged.
“How was dinner with the Beemans?”
She shrugged again, and Philip mouthed wow to the room. She had been reaching new levels of teenage surliness lately, and he was feeling out of his depth. He walked around to the front of the couch and lifted her legs, sat down and dropped them into his lap.
“Everything OK?”
“Fine,” she sighed.
Philip sat quietly, rubbing a thumb over the bump of Paige’s ankle, waiting.
“I don’t get boys,” she blurted.
Philip nodded slowly, pretending to contemplate the issue before saying, “Good. Don’t even try for at least five more years.”
“Dad.”
“What don’t you get?” he relented.
“Matthew spent the entire night talking about this stupid girl in his stupid band. I mean, the entire night. It was just really…rude.”
“Hmmm.”
“So what? So she can play a guitar. Big deal.”
Philip turned his head, looking away for a moment as he thought and biting the inside of his lip so he wouldn’t smile.
“Let me tell you a secret: boys are stupid. I wish I could say we grew out of it.”
Paige shifted position as she harrumphed in agreement.
“We don’t always figure out who’s worth our time, sometimes we never do. And those types of boys aren’t worth your time, because everyone deserves people who appreciate and respect them.” Philip paused and cleared his throat. “Even if we do figure it out, we don’t always know how to…take care of other people’s feelings or express our own…right.”
Paige was silent for a long time. “Is that what happened with you and mom?” she asked quietly, her voice breaking. “Because neither of you will just explain it to me.”
Philip sighed and squeezed her calf. “Lots of things happened between me and mom, honey. Some of it’s just between us and some of it’s just…hard to put into words. I can’t even explain it to myself.”
“Maybe if you just told her how you feel, you know? Maybe it’s more important to say something than to try and find the right way to say it.”
“Maybe,” Philip agreed.
***
Elizabeth could sense the conversation wrapping up, and the feeling of urgency inside her increased with every moment that passed. The tension between them kept lurking and growing. They needed to say more than just updates on the kids and her health status, overt comments about the travel agency and subtle hints about their other work. Elizabeth wanted so badly to come to some understanding, but she didn’t know how to broach the topic.
So instead she asked, “How’s that one client coming? The honeymoon?”
Philip paused. “Fine. No changes in the itinerary. She wants me to be more hands-on, but…I’ve got other arrangements to worry about.”
Elizabeth smiled briefly. “Well, just make sure she’s satisfied. That’s an important account.”
“Satisfaction’s not an issue,” Philip replied with a strained laugh.
“That sure of yourself, huh?”
After another brief pause, Philip said, serious when Elizabeth had been expecting a joke in return, “I just know all the right things to say to her. Lots of experience planning honeymoons, I guess. The stakes are higher with…other clients.”
Elizabeth inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling the tension suddenly and unexpectedly seeping away the closer they got to not-talking about the issues between them.
“Well…you’re a really good travel agent…” Elizabeth trailed off, holding her breath as she waited for a response.
“I was thinking,” Philip finally said, his voice raw, “of putting together a package for us, actually. A weekend away with the kids when you get back, like we talked about.”
Elizabeth dropped her head, smiling wide. “I’d like that,” she whispered. A moment later, she found her voice again and added, “I didn’t know if…you didn’t actually say…”
“I’m still not sure,” Philip said carefully, “how much of this is just response to the circumstances.”
“Maybe - ” Elizabeth swallowed. “Maybe the circumstances just let us put all the other shit aside.”
“The other shit’s going to come back eventually, though.”
“I know. And - truthfully, I don’t know if I can really do this. You know how I am. And I don’t know what it might mean for our, well, our other responsibilities. But…I want to try.”
Philip sighed. “So. We take it slow,” he suggested.
Elizabeth nodded. “Figure out where we fit inside the bigger picture of it all.”
The rest of their conversation was quiet and intimate. They confessed they missed each other, that the separation had been hard and they were worried about the future. They planned for how they would celebrate her return and promised to talk more soon. And then just before she hung up, she swallowed down her pride and her nerves, and she told Philip she loved him for the first time, wishing she could see his face but grateful that he couldn’t see hers. She exhaled in relief when he said it back, and she let one final piece of herself fall into place, healed. When she did finally hang up, she felt more than ready to get out of the safe house, her concerns and fears gone for the moment.
But only for a brief moment, for when she turned around, she saw Claudia standing in the doorway.
“What?” she asked sternly, trying not to reveal any surprise or embarrassment.
Claudia flashed her a quick smile, which Elizabeth didn’t trust, and then she walked further into the room.
“I was…wrong about him,” Claudia said, and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in shocked inquiry. “About how he feels about you. The way he was when you were unconscious….”
Elizabeth turned and walked away, brushing her hair behind her ear as she replied haughtily, “I told you. You don’t know anything about us.”
“But I’m still not wrong about how…muddying the lines between you two can affect your focus and ability to do your job. You’re the femme fatale, Elizabeth, and you’ll only be able to fake the romantic ingénue role for so long. You’re not made for the domestic life and take it from personal experience - you can’t really have it all.”
Elizabeth fumed inwardly, taking a moment to compose herself before she faced Claudia again. “Maybe you’re wrong about that too,” she said offhand, as if the debate was academic rather than personal, as if she wasn’t battling the same questions. “I’m not you. And I don’t want to end up like you.”
“I’m trying to look out for you, Elizabeth.”
“No. You’re trying to manipulate me. And it’s not going to work anymore. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
***
“Do you have any…threes? No! Fours. No, threes. Wait - ”
“Pick one, Henry,” Paige ordered in exasperation.
“…Threes!”
“Go fish,” Paige and Philip said simultaneously.
Henry sighed loudly and leaned forward in his chair to reach the deck of cards in the middle of the table. Elizabeth fought a smile as she watched her family tease each other, oblivious to her silent entrance.
“Who’s winning?” she asked, before laughing out loud as all three turned to her in excitement. Philip’s shock seemed more feigned than the kids’, and Elizabeth guessed he had been aware she was home since she closed the cab door.
“Mom!” both kids shouted, bolting out of their chairs and running to her.
Henry nearly knocked her over with an exuberant hug, and Elizabeth tried to hide the fact that she was still fighting some tenderness. Paige remembered about halfway to her that she was a teenager and far too mature to be happy to see her mother, so her own hug was decidedly less physical.
“Guys, come on. Henry, be careful; this isn’t a football game and there’s no need to tackle anyone.” Philip fought through the noise and the limbs to take Elizabeth’s bag off her shoulder. “Why didn’t you call? We would have picked you up.”
Elizabeth shrugged, smiling awkwardly, almost embarrassedly, as she stepped forward and kissed Philip’s cheek. As they separated, Philip left his hand on her side, gently covering where the bullet had entered, and they both ignored the wide-eyed, hopeful looks the kids shot each other.
“It was kind of a spur of the moment decision to come home,” she replied. “Kind of touch and go whether I’d be comfortable leaving her.”
“But…she’s OK?”
Elizabeth nodded, smiling secretively at Philip’s expression of relief. “Full recovery expected.”
There was a moment of silence then, and she and Philip simply stared at each other.
“Mom, I missed you so much,” Henry interrupted, clearly tired of being ignored.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Elizabeth looked at him and then pointedly around the room at the empty pizza box on the counter and the cards strewn across the table. “Pizza for dinner, card games, and hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s past your bedtime.”
The kids both groaned, quiet whines of “It’s summer!” muttered under their breath. Philip made an exaggerated busted expression before laughing.
“You heard her, guys. Go on upstairs and brush your teeth.”
The children put up a few more half-hearted protests before racing off for the stairs, pushing at each other to get through the kitchen door first. Philip and Elizabeth followed them slowly, and when they reached the top of the stairs, they veered off for the bedroom. Elizabeth kicked off her shoes while Philip put her bag down on the bed and then turned to face her.
Small smiles as they caught and then dropped each other’s gaze. He swallowed; she licked her lips. Elizabeth took a breath and prepared to speak.
“Good night!”
Henry’s yell interrupted them. Philip and Elizabeth laughed, the moment breaking as they both turned and walked out of the room again. Philip stepped into Henry’s room to say good night while Elizabeth continued on to Paige’s. She was just climbing under the covers and smiled at Elizabeth as she settled.
“I’m happy you’re home.”
“I’m happy to be home. I missed you.”
Paige smiled shyly. “I missed you too, Mom.”
“Let’s go out for lunch tomorrow and catch up.”
“OK!”
“But it’s late now, so go to bed.”
Paige nodded, just before her eyes slipped past Elizabeth and focused on the doorway. Elizabeth didn’t need to turn around to realize Philip was standing there. And she didn’t have to be a trained spy to spot the plan immediately start forming in her daughter’s head. Paige stretched her mouth open wide in a fake yawn.
“It is very late,” she agreed and then focused on Philip again. “Dad probably shouldn’t be driving at this hour. Maybe he should stay here tonight.”
“Good night, Paige,” Elizabeth said firmly
Elizabeth turned and walked past Philip as he reached forward for the doorknob and began to pull the door closed with a quiet “Good night, sweetheart.”
After wishing Henry sweet dreams and closing his door, Elizabeth turned back into the hallway. She leaned back in surprise when she noticed how close Philip was behind her, and then she let a coy smile grow on her face.
“Come on,” she whispered, nodding her head back towards the master bedroom. “Don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”
He was one step behind her as they walked closer to the room, and Elizabeth felt her skin tingling at the body heat coming off him.
“This isn’t taking it very slow, is it?” Philip asked, somewhat reluctantly.
She faced him again and paused for a moment. He was right, of course, and they still had so much to figure out. But she was mostly healed and he was home and they had the rest of their lives to figure things out.
Elizabeth raised herself to her tiptoes and lifted one hand to the back of Philip’s neck. She pulled him into a deep and leisurely kiss.
“Slow sounds good,” she murmured once she finally broke away.
Philip’s response was rather unintelligible, but they had been partners for a long time and she was finally figuring out how to read him in this as easily as she could in the field.
The End
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Philip/Elizabeth
Spoilers: 1x13 specifically, season in general
Word Count: ~3500
Summary: Philip and Elizabeth contemplate the future of their relationship.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
“But when will you be home?”
Elizabeth couldn’t stop the smile. It wasn’t the first time she had heard the question and it won’t be the last. And her answer (As soon as possible, I promise. When Auntie can get around better on her own) hadn’t changed. But something about the plaintiveness in Henry’s voice amused her and touched her every time. She missed him, all of them, more than she ever thought possible. Even Paige with her teenage-sassy (yet truthful) “How’s your great-aunt that I’ve never even heard of?”
The wound in her stomach was healing, but she still couldn’t move comfortably, gracefully, or naturally. She certainly couldn’t move in a way that wouldn’t raise anyone’s (Stan’s) suspicions. There were times when she felt absolutely fine and then she would turn just so and inhale sharply at her body’s sudden and unpredictable protest. She didn’t like the loss of control, the uncertainty. She never had and she never would.
Speaking of which… “Could you put Dad on the phone, please?” she asked.
Henry sighed, his mumbled love you barely audible as he moved the phone away. Within moments, Philip’s voice came over the line.
“How are you? How’s - your great-aunt?”
Elizabeth exhaled. She hadn’t seen him since a few hours after she had woken up, when she and Claudia had teamed up to send him home to the children and to sleep. A more permanent recuperation site - a safe house in Maryland - had been arranged and Elizabeth had been moved shortly after that.
“Coming along, I guess,” she replied as honestly as possible.
“Good,” he murmured. “I’m glad.”
Elizabeth licked her lips, listening to Philip breathe and the sound of the children arguing over the television in the background. She noticed she had managed to wrap the phone cord around her finger, something she had seen Paige do before, usually when she was not-as-secretly-as-she-thought whispering to a friend about Matthew Beeman. Elizabeth glanced quickly around, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t being watched, and then freed her hand.
“And you?”
“We’re doing fine,” Philip replied, a smile in his voice. “Up ‘til all hours of the night, more junk food than our bodies can handle.”
“Please tell me there’s the occasional vegetable in there somewhere,” Elizabeth begged, fighting a laugh.
“And give up my good cop status?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “They must be happy to have you home.”
Silence then, which quickly turned awkward. Philip cleared his throat, and Elizabeth closed her eyes, wishing she had thought before speaking. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Philip never actually responded to her…request.
Part of her thought that she wouldn’t be fully ready to go back until she could handle a negative answer. Or until she could commit to making the changes in her priorities that would be required with a positive one.
She didn’t like the loss of control, the uncertainty.
***
Philip sighed as he rolled over. After the first few nights on the dreadfully uncomfortable hotel bed, he had finally started to sleep easier, and even more so in the apartment. Back in the house now, back in his own bed, he was suddenly unable to sleep alone again.
It had never been his own bed.
Philip sent a pained smile into the darkness as he remembered. The first few awkward nights in the hotel when suddenly all they had prepared for became very, very real. Holding himself incredibly still next to Elizabeth, trying not to let any part of his body cross the imaginary dividing line running down the middle of the mattress. Listening to her breathe too slowly, too evenly and knowing she was still awake.
The lumpy little bed in their first dinky apartment, Center-approved as appropriate living for a young couple just starting out. The silences, the absences, even as they had started to relax around each other and grow comfortable with being in each other’s space. Feeling, somehow, that Elizabeth was mentally somewhere else all the time, even when she curled up next to him in her sleep, fingers and knees testing that imaginary line. Knowing now that she must have been dreaming she was with Gregory.
Laughing with each other as they dragged the new bed up the stairs of the new house, Elizabeth guiding and balancing, Philip pushing and supporting, half their attention on arguments about decorating the house and whether Philip could build a wine cellar. That first night, when Elizabeth came out of the bathroom in actual lingerie and told him it was time for children. Philip had been speechless, his fingers were clumsy, and he felt entirely too much like a virgin.
And then all those nights since then. Simmering anger as they fought. Quiet whispers as they planned and reported. Whimpers as they recovered from various scrapes and bruises. Far too rarely for Philip’s preferences, the soft sounds of skin against skin, of lips meeting and the bed creaking - at first, perfunctory and only for the sake of keeping up appearances, impersonal and quick. Later, with smiles and flirting, their marriage turning into something maybe-real before his mistakes and lies and her trepidations and hard stances ruined everything they had so tentatively reached out for.
He missed her. He wanted her. He really did love her.
He didn’t know if he could risk it again.
***
Elizabeth gasped, looking around in a daze as she brushed a sweaty strand of hair off her face. The therapist showed no sympathy as he nodded and said “Again” with a trace of an accent never fully lost. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and pushed herself up again.
With each repetition, she thought of all the times she had fought through the pain before, developing muscles to fight and die for her country. She thought of all the sacrifices she had made, giving up her home and her mother, her first love and her body.
She was too scared to question now if it had been worth it, even more terrified to wonder if the motivations driving her toward recovery - the need to see her children again, the chance to work things out with Philip - somehow negated all those sacrifices. If she wasn’t first and foremost a KGB agent, a loyal soldier, then what was she?
When she had told Philip that Paige and Henry would be better off with him than her, she hadn’t been lying. Try as she might, she wasn’t at all the mother they needed growing up in this time, in this country. And she wasn’t cut out to really be the devoted wife she had pretended to be for so long. Philip was right to be hesitant. Gregory was right to warn her that loving Philip would change her, would perhaps lessen her.
She didn’t know if it was too late to change, or if she even had it in her, or now that the urgency of the moment was over, if she completely wanted to, or if they even wanted her to or would be happy just to have her back, willing to accept what she was capable of giving them.
“Again, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth tried not to show any weakness as she pushed herself harder.
***
To say he was distracted was an understatement. Between taking care of the kids and the office by himself and worrying about Elizabeth, Philip had no extra energy to give Martha the attention the job required. But he certainly couldn’t ignore her, so Philip inhaled and redoubled his efforts.
It wasn’t enough, and Martha pulled away from the kiss.
“Clark?” she asked. “Is everything all right?”
Philip forced a smile, thinking quickly. “Of course. I’m sorry. We finally get a night together and I’m so - It’s just - ”
Martha gave him a loving look, lifting a hand to cup his cheek.
“Long day?”
Philip sighed and dropped his shoulders. “Long week,” he concurred.
“Us too,” Martha said, nodding as she resettled on the couch. “We’ve been very busy. Well, you know.”
“Has Agent Gaad been able to figure out what went wrong? A leak or…?”
“No real idea. And he’s been quite upset.”
Philip reached out to squeeze Martha’s arm comfortingly. “He hasn’t been taking it out on you, has he?”
“No,” she replied quickly before adding, “Well, no more than usual. It’s OK, though. I can make it through a lot of tough times at work knowing I have you to come home to.”
“It is nice to have a partner in it all, isn’t it?” Philip felt his thoughts drifting back to Elizabeth again, remembering how good of a team they actually made.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Clark,” Martha agreed.
Philip forced another smile. “Don’t worry about that,” he reassured her.
Not expecting any further information and not willing to stay there any longer than he had to, Philip switched tactics. A few more sweet nothings, a kiss or two, and some mutual groping underneath clothes would have to be enough before he talked his way out of staying the night.
***
The house was mostly dark when he walked in. Philip followed the faint sounds of the television into the living room and spotted Paige stretched out on the couch and staring forlornly ahead.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she replied half-heartedly, not even bothering to turn to look at him.
“Where’s your brother?”
“Upstairs.”
“What are you watching?”
She shrugged.
“How was dinner with the Beemans?”
She shrugged again, and Philip mouthed wow to the room. She had been reaching new levels of teenage surliness lately, and he was feeling out of his depth. He walked around to the front of the couch and lifted her legs, sat down and dropped them into his lap.
“Everything OK?”
“Fine,” she sighed.
Philip sat quietly, rubbing a thumb over the bump of Paige’s ankle, waiting.
“I don’t get boys,” she blurted.
Philip nodded slowly, pretending to contemplate the issue before saying, “Good. Don’t even try for at least five more years.”
“Dad.”
“What don’t you get?” he relented.
“Matthew spent the entire night talking about this stupid girl in his stupid band. I mean, the entire night. It was just really…rude.”
“Hmmm.”
“So what? So she can play a guitar. Big deal.”
Philip turned his head, looking away for a moment as he thought and biting the inside of his lip so he wouldn’t smile.
“Let me tell you a secret: boys are stupid. I wish I could say we grew out of it.”
Paige shifted position as she harrumphed in agreement.
“We don’t always figure out who’s worth our time, sometimes we never do. And those types of boys aren’t worth your time, because everyone deserves people who appreciate and respect them.” Philip paused and cleared his throat. “Even if we do figure it out, we don’t always know how to…take care of other people’s feelings or express our own…right.”
Paige was silent for a long time. “Is that what happened with you and mom?” she asked quietly, her voice breaking. “Because neither of you will just explain it to me.”
Philip sighed and squeezed her calf. “Lots of things happened between me and mom, honey. Some of it’s just between us and some of it’s just…hard to put into words. I can’t even explain it to myself.”
“Maybe if you just told her how you feel, you know? Maybe it’s more important to say something than to try and find the right way to say it.”
“Maybe,” Philip agreed.
***
Elizabeth could sense the conversation wrapping up, and the feeling of urgency inside her increased with every moment that passed. The tension between them kept lurking and growing. They needed to say more than just updates on the kids and her health status, overt comments about the travel agency and subtle hints about their other work. Elizabeth wanted so badly to come to some understanding, but she didn’t know how to broach the topic.
So instead she asked, “How’s that one client coming? The honeymoon?”
Philip paused. “Fine. No changes in the itinerary. She wants me to be more hands-on, but…I’ve got other arrangements to worry about.”
Elizabeth smiled briefly. “Well, just make sure she’s satisfied. That’s an important account.”
“Satisfaction’s not an issue,” Philip replied with a strained laugh.
“That sure of yourself, huh?”
After another brief pause, Philip said, serious when Elizabeth had been expecting a joke in return, “I just know all the right things to say to her. Lots of experience planning honeymoons, I guess. The stakes are higher with…other clients.”
Elizabeth inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling the tension suddenly and unexpectedly seeping away the closer they got to not-talking about the issues between them.
“Well…you’re a really good travel agent…” Elizabeth trailed off, holding her breath as she waited for a response.
“I was thinking,” Philip finally said, his voice raw, “of putting together a package for us, actually. A weekend away with the kids when you get back, like we talked about.”
Elizabeth dropped her head, smiling wide. “I’d like that,” she whispered. A moment later, she found her voice again and added, “I didn’t know if…you didn’t actually say…”
“I’m still not sure,” Philip said carefully, “how much of this is just response to the circumstances.”
“Maybe - ” Elizabeth swallowed. “Maybe the circumstances just let us put all the other shit aside.”
“The other shit’s going to come back eventually, though.”
“I know. And - truthfully, I don’t know if I can really do this. You know how I am. And I don’t know what it might mean for our, well, our other responsibilities. But…I want to try.”
Philip sighed. “So. We take it slow,” he suggested.
Elizabeth nodded. “Figure out where we fit inside the bigger picture of it all.”
The rest of their conversation was quiet and intimate. They confessed they missed each other, that the separation had been hard and they were worried about the future. They planned for how they would celebrate her return and promised to talk more soon. And then just before she hung up, she swallowed down her pride and her nerves, and she told Philip she loved him for the first time, wishing she could see his face but grateful that he couldn’t see hers. She exhaled in relief when he said it back, and she let one final piece of herself fall into place, healed. When she did finally hang up, she felt more than ready to get out of the safe house, her concerns and fears gone for the moment.
But only for a brief moment, for when she turned around, she saw Claudia standing in the doorway.
“What?” she asked sternly, trying not to reveal any surprise or embarrassment.
Claudia flashed her a quick smile, which Elizabeth didn’t trust, and then she walked further into the room.
“I was…wrong about him,” Claudia said, and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in shocked inquiry. “About how he feels about you. The way he was when you were unconscious….”
Elizabeth turned and walked away, brushing her hair behind her ear as she replied haughtily, “I told you. You don’t know anything about us.”
“But I’m still not wrong about how…muddying the lines between you two can affect your focus and ability to do your job. You’re the femme fatale, Elizabeth, and you’ll only be able to fake the romantic ingénue role for so long. You’re not made for the domestic life and take it from personal experience - you can’t really have it all.”
Elizabeth fumed inwardly, taking a moment to compose herself before she faced Claudia again. “Maybe you’re wrong about that too,” she said offhand, as if the debate was academic rather than personal, as if she wasn’t battling the same questions. “I’m not you. And I don’t want to end up like you.”
“I’m trying to look out for you, Elizabeth.”
“No. You’re trying to manipulate me. And it’s not going to work anymore. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
***
“Do you have any…threes? No! Fours. No, threes. Wait - ”
“Pick one, Henry,” Paige ordered in exasperation.
“…Threes!”
“Go fish,” Paige and Philip said simultaneously.
Henry sighed loudly and leaned forward in his chair to reach the deck of cards in the middle of the table. Elizabeth fought a smile as she watched her family tease each other, oblivious to her silent entrance.
“Who’s winning?” she asked, before laughing out loud as all three turned to her in excitement. Philip’s shock seemed more feigned than the kids’, and Elizabeth guessed he had been aware she was home since she closed the cab door.
“Mom!” both kids shouted, bolting out of their chairs and running to her.
Henry nearly knocked her over with an exuberant hug, and Elizabeth tried to hide the fact that she was still fighting some tenderness. Paige remembered about halfway to her that she was a teenager and far too mature to be happy to see her mother, so her own hug was decidedly less physical.
“Guys, come on. Henry, be careful; this isn’t a football game and there’s no need to tackle anyone.” Philip fought through the noise and the limbs to take Elizabeth’s bag off her shoulder. “Why didn’t you call? We would have picked you up.”
Elizabeth shrugged, smiling awkwardly, almost embarrassedly, as she stepped forward and kissed Philip’s cheek. As they separated, Philip left his hand on her side, gently covering where the bullet had entered, and they both ignored the wide-eyed, hopeful looks the kids shot each other.
“It was kind of a spur of the moment decision to come home,” she replied. “Kind of touch and go whether I’d be comfortable leaving her.”
“But…she’s OK?”
Elizabeth nodded, smiling secretively at Philip’s expression of relief. “Full recovery expected.”
There was a moment of silence then, and she and Philip simply stared at each other.
“Mom, I missed you so much,” Henry interrupted, clearly tired of being ignored.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Elizabeth looked at him and then pointedly around the room at the empty pizza box on the counter and the cards strewn across the table. “Pizza for dinner, card games, and hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s past your bedtime.”
The kids both groaned, quiet whines of “It’s summer!” muttered under their breath. Philip made an exaggerated busted expression before laughing.
“You heard her, guys. Go on upstairs and brush your teeth.”
The children put up a few more half-hearted protests before racing off for the stairs, pushing at each other to get through the kitchen door first. Philip and Elizabeth followed them slowly, and when they reached the top of the stairs, they veered off for the bedroom. Elizabeth kicked off her shoes while Philip put her bag down on the bed and then turned to face her.
Small smiles as they caught and then dropped each other’s gaze. He swallowed; she licked her lips. Elizabeth took a breath and prepared to speak.
“Good night!”
Henry’s yell interrupted them. Philip and Elizabeth laughed, the moment breaking as they both turned and walked out of the room again. Philip stepped into Henry’s room to say good night while Elizabeth continued on to Paige’s. She was just climbing under the covers and smiled at Elizabeth as she settled.
“I’m happy you’re home.”
“I’m happy to be home. I missed you.”
Paige smiled shyly. “I missed you too, Mom.”
“Let’s go out for lunch tomorrow and catch up.”
“OK!”
“But it’s late now, so go to bed.”
Paige nodded, just before her eyes slipped past Elizabeth and focused on the doorway. Elizabeth didn’t need to turn around to realize Philip was standing there. And she didn’t have to be a trained spy to spot the plan immediately start forming in her daughter’s head. Paige stretched her mouth open wide in a fake yawn.
“It is very late,” she agreed and then focused on Philip again. “Dad probably shouldn’t be driving at this hour. Maybe he should stay here tonight.”
“Good night, Paige,” Elizabeth said firmly
Elizabeth turned and walked past Philip as he reached forward for the doorknob and began to pull the door closed with a quiet “Good night, sweetheart.”
After wishing Henry sweet dreams and closing his door, Elizabeth turned back into the hallway. She leaned back in surprise when she noticed how close Philip was behind her, and then she let a coy smile grow on her face.
“Come on,” she whispered, nodding her head back towards the master bedroom. “Don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”
He was one step behind her as they walked closer to the room, and Elizabeth felt her skin tingling at the body heat coming off him.
“This isn’t taking it very slow, is it?” Philip asked, somewhat reluctantly.
She faced him again and paused for a moment. He was right, of course, and they still had so much to figure out. But she was mostly healed and he was home and they had the rest of their lives to figure things out.
Elizabeth raised herself to her tiptoes and lifted one hand to the back of Philip’s neck. She pulled him into a deep and leisurely kiss.
“Slow sounds good,” she murmured once she finally broke away.
Philip’s response was rather unintelligible, but they had been partners for a long time and she was finally figuring out how to read him in this as easily as she could in the field.
The End