A/N: Hello! This was supposed to be a one shot to try to get me over my epic writer's block but, um, it grew. Now it's I don't really know what and I haven't entirely decided where it's going but I hope you like this first chapter! Please do let me know what you think and if you'd like to read the rest :D

Heat of the Bullet

Chapter One

The kitchen was filled with the scent of fresh bread warming in the oven, and the wine had already been opened so that it could breathe. Everything was almost ready.

Henry finished preparing the salad and then wiped his hands on a towel, casting a quick glance at his watch as he did so.

Huh. That was strange. He had been expecting Elizabeth home half an hour ago; time had obviously got away from him while he was cooking dinner and he hadn't realised that it had already ticked past the hour when his wife had said she should be home.

Disappointment beat through him. He supposed that she had been caught up in some last minute problem or other, but when he had spoken to her a couple of hours ago, she had sounded fairly confident about her ETA. Just a speech to deliver followed by twenty minutes or so of glad-handing, and then she'd be back in her car on her way home. Apparently things hadn't worked out as she'd planned.

It was something Henry had grown used to in the few years since she had become Secretary of State, but he had been hoping that tonight she'd be able to make it back on time, because he had some amends to make. He had been cranky with her that morning, snappy when she didn't deserve it for a concerned comment she had made about the demands his workload had been placing on him recently, and he had seen the flash of hurt on her face before she had quickly covered it and made her excuses to leave for work.

The fight – no, it hadn't been a fight, because she hadn't engaged or risen to the bait… His unprovoked snappish comments had weighed on him heavily all morning, and it had taken him a few hours to realise exactly why. It wasn't just the guilt he felt at calling Elizabeth out when she'd just been expressing worry for him, it was the fact she had been hurt by what he said but had felt she had to hide it from him. It was the fact that she thought he was spoiling for a fight, reading criticism into her comment about his busy job when really all she had meant was what she had said: that she was worried he was working too much, sleeping not enough, and that she missed him. And in response he had bitten her head off, prompting her to scarper before he could see the extent of the impact, before he could do any more damage.

The thought of it had really got to him, the guilt throbbing like a pulse, and so he had called her to apologise and had promised that they would have an intimate evening to make up for it, just the two of them with dinner and wine, and sleep before midnight, and he had cleared the majority of his afternoon schedule to make sure he could get home in time to get everything prepared.

He had changed into a charcoal suit he knew that she liked, and cooked food he knew she loved, and he hoped that she was able to get home soon so he could apologise again in person before wining and dining her for the rest of the night.

He was just taking the paper off a large bouquet of tulips when the doorbell rang.

Frowning at the interruption, and hoping that it would be brief, Henry left the tulips on the countertop and went to get the door.

"Dr McCord." The man from Elizabeth's security detail spoke before Henry could even get the door all the way open, and even just the serious tone in his voice set Henry's nerves on edge.

He opened the door wider to see that the man's face matched his tone; all business, with just the faintest hint of urgency. Henry felt his nerves start to slip ever so slightly over the edge – nothing good ever came from Diplomatic Security feeling the need for urgency. "Carl, what's going on?"

"You mind if we come in? We need to sweep the house." Carl stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, looking behind him and beckoning to several agents who were waiting a few steps behind. They followed him in, moving quickly into the house to conduct their sweep.

Henry watched them file past, and that was when he noticed – the street outside was busier than usual. Elizabeth's motorcade wasn't yet back in its normal spot in front of the house, but in addition to the normal security that stayed there twenty-four seven, there were several cars that could easily be identified as DS vehicles as well as agents clustered on the sidewalk, none of them making even the slightest effort to appear inconspicuous.

No way was that the result of anything good.

Dread took up residence in the pit of his gut and he turned back to Carl to find the other man watching him piece the situation together. "You swept the house this morning," Henry said, an accusation. An indirect challenge. Also a distraction, of sorts.

He wanted to demand the man to tell him what the hell was going on, but for some reason he thought that the longer he didn't know the truth of it, the longer that everything was still okay. If he didn't know exactly what was going on, the five agents currently sweeping the house might only be routine and the extra security in the street outside might only be an exercise, and Carl in his house wearing an expression of pressured professionalism might be nothing at all.

Might.

If he stretched credulity to its very limits.

"We did," the DS man confirmed.

A beat passed. He had to ask, even if it meant that the curiosity killed him. "Where's Elizabeth?" He didn't bother to hide the depth of his concern that he knew leeched out into his voice and onto his face.

There was the slightest crack in Carl's mask, almost imperceptible, just for a moment before he answered the question. "The Secretary is secure, Dr McCord. We have her."

The way he said the sentence did nothing to dispel Henry's growing worry, and when he thought about it, it wasn't really an answer at all. "Carl –"

He started to follow up, to demand that the man elaborate on that statement, to tell him where his wife was, but then a thought occurred to Henry. Carl said that DS had Elizabeth. But – "What about the kids?"

"You have no reason to worry about the children, Dr McCord, they're fine. But you should probably call them."

The dread in his stomach started to churn in earnest, even as it was clear to Henry that the man was telling the truth about the children being fine. "Why?"

"Because about twenty-five minutes ago, someone made an attempt on the Secretary's life. And in the next few minutes I'd expect the news to break on CNN. Dr McCord, are you okay? Dr McCord?"