AN: I've seen a lot of debate about where the name Bess came from and it got me to thinking about how Elizabeth might have picked up the various versions of her name. Here's my take. Enjoy!

Lizzie

"Wizzie-butt tum here," shouted Will, Elizabeth's brother.

"Moooommm, make him stop," she whined. "Will is name calling."

"Honey, he's trying his best to say your name. He's two and two year olds don't always speak plainly," Wanda Adams told her daughter. Elizabeth huffed away with her picture book tucked under her arm. Wanda chuckled. She thought Wizzie-butt was exceptionally cute.

The next day, Wanda noticed the silence and took that as a reason for concern. When the 2 and 4 year old were both quiet, chances were a mess was being made. She went down the hall and found Elizabeth talking to Will, who was standing in his crib. She did a double take, wondering how he got into the crib in the first place. She started to walk in, but stopped herself just in time to hear the conversation.

"Will, I know you're 2, so you can call me Lizzie. Don't tell anyone I said so, but I like that name." Elizabeth reached through the bars and squeezed his cheeks between her hands. "Say Lizzie."

"Wizzie-butt," Will giggled.

"Ugh! No Will. It's Lizzie."

"Wizzie," said Will.

"Closer." Elizabeth grinned.

"Butt," Will finished.

Elizabeth smacked herself on the forehead and Wanda laughed. Elizabeth turned to her looking very frustrated. "Maybe it would help if we all called you Lizzie to help Will get used to it?"

"How about Will just gets smarter and stops calling me Wizzie-butt?" Elizabeth huffed, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

So, at 4, Elizabeth Adams became Lizzie Adams. By the time Will leaned to properly say her name, Elizabeth was in school and everyone called her Lizzie. She didn't mind as long as Will refrained from using Wizzie-butt in public.

Bess

Lizzie was 15. Her parents were dead, she was off at boarding school and she desperately wanted to be anyone but who she was. Because Will accompanied her, and he was super outgoing, everyone knew him and as a consequence knew her. Lizzie's chances of breaking free and becoming someone other than Will's older, nerdy sister Lizzie were nil. But, the application in front of her gave her a chance, an opportunity to break out and not be "poor Lizzie whose parents are dead." If she were able to get into the CIA's high school summer internship program, she would be around all new people. No one would know her past. She could be someone new. She could be strong and confident and smart, but not nerdy and not reclusive and not Will's big sister.

Lizzie filled out the application, except for one small blank: preferred name. She couldn't lie and make up a new name altogether. That seemed wrong and this was the CIA for goodness sakes. Pushing her library chair back, she scoured the shelves until she found what she wanted, a book on the meanings and variations of names. She quickly thumbed through the first part of the book until she landed on her own name. Elizabeth, the fullness of God. She rolled her eyes. "Um, yeah, not so much on that one," she thought. She scanned the variations and there were several, many more than she'd imagined. Eliza, Elsie, Elsabet, Lisa, Betty, Libby, Tibbie, and so many more. Then she saw it. Bess.

The Nancy Drew mysteries held a special place in Lizzie's heart. Bess, whose real name was Elizabeth, was Nancy Drew's best friend. She made her first appearance in the fifth book in the series, and appeared regularly from that point on. It seemed even more appropriate that Bess helped Nancy solve mysteries. Lizzie sort of envisioned the CIA in the same way. She smiled as she thought about Bess and her beloved books.

Wanda first started reading Lizzie the series when she was in Kindergarten and by second grade, Lizzie was able to read them on her own. She owned the whole series, usually receiving two or three every birthday and Christmas. She'd read them countless times, most recently, after her parents died, in an attempt to feel closer to her mom. Her set of Nancy Drew books and her clothes were the only things she took with her when she had to leave her home to live with her grandparents when her parents were killed. She added the name Bess to preferred name blank, folded the application and slipped it into the envelope. She left the library and walked to the mailbox on the street corner in front of school and dropped it in.

It was the first week of June when Stan and June Miller, Lizzie's maternal grandparents, dropped her off at the CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia for the month long high school internship program. Unlike many of the participants, Lizzie jumped out of the car, slipped her backpack over her shoulders and yanked her suitcase from the back seat. She hugged her grandparents and marched off alone to embark on a new world as Bess Adams.

She attended the CIA program all four years of high school and made lasting connections, especially with George McMillan, the leader of her group for three of the four years, and Conrad Dalton, the director of the program. Conrad approached her at the closing program when she was a senior. "You know Bess, we have a college internship program. Most of our analyst positions are chosen from those who. We'd love to have you join us."

She smiled, "I would love that Mr. Dalton. Thank you. I'll look forward to seeing you again next summer then." She left the building and made way to her car. College was starting in 6 weeks and she had a new persona to devise.

Liz

She'd told her grandparents that it was time for a change. A new woman on a new adventure. June looked at her skeptically but agreed. She walked into the salon a long haired blond with her hair lazily pulled into a ponytail and exited with shorter and significantly more teased auburn hair.

"Goodness gracious Lizzie!" her grandmother exclaimed. "It's like you're a whole different person."

Lizzie smiled. "Perfect-just what I was going for. And by the way, I've decided that Lizzie is too 'little girl.' can we shorten it to Liz?"

"You know," Grandma June paused and eyed her granddaughter. "Liz." She placed heavy accent on it as though it were distasteful. "You can change a lot about what others see when they look at you, but be very careful about changing what's on the inside. You are a very special young woman with a compassionate heart. I would hate to see you try to change that to fit in."

Liz smiled at her grandmother. "I know. I just can't be Lizzie anymore. There's too much hurt there. I need a fresh start. I need people to see me, not my tragedy. I'm tired of everyone looking at me through that filter."

Her grandmother pulled her close and hugged her. "Just don't lose the important parts, okay?"

She stood in line in the Student Union shifting her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for her turn. Slowly the line inched forward "Name please," the woman said, using a bored voice.

"Elizabeth Adams, but I go by Liz." Five minutes later she had her name tag slapped on her t-shirt and her welcome packet tucked under her arm. "Here we go Liz," she murmured to herself.

By the end of her sophomore year, Liz was exactly who she set out to be. She was smart, outgoing, and confident. She was popular in all social groups and was President of three different campus groups. No one knew about her past and no one ever saw anyone but the bubbly, happy, Liz.

Truth be told, she expended a lot of mental energy on keeping up appearances. She was often exhausted, but she figured that eventually it would become second nature and she wouldn't have to constantly think about it.

Liz meandered through the accumulating crowd of UVA students at the Student Government Community Halloween party, making sure everything was going to run smoothly. She thought her costume as a construction foreman was very fitting and she carried her clipboard to each game station, making sure each was adequately staffed and had enough candy to pass out to the local children. At the exact moment, she opened the outside doors and children and their parents flooded in.

Everyone was enjoying themselves and Liz had a smile plastered on her face, but her heart was hurting. Tomorrow was the anniversary of the her parents' death. She wasn't sure what she was thinking when she took this project on, knowing when it would be. She continued through the crowd, watching, smiling, and then she stopped in her tracks. A couple, mid teens maybe, we're dressed as crash test dummies. That probably would have been bad enough, but the girl had a blonde wig on and the boy was wearing a bow tie. The sob rose to the surface faster than she could shove it back down. She turned and ran out the side door.

The crisp October air forced its way into her lungs, shocking her system. She leaned against the building and tried to gain her bearings. "Pull it together Lizzie," she whispered, as tears streamed down her face. Like an old friend, the mantra came back. "Deep breath, 2, 3, and out, 2, 3," ran through her head over and over. She pushed the pain back down, rebuilt the wall and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She held the clipboard tightly to her chest and took one last deep breath before heading back inside. She checked her watch. Roughly 10 minutes. That wasn't too bad. Maybe no one noticed.

She headed back inside. Standing just inside the door stood a young man, a concerned look covering his face. He had witnessed the scene quite by accident. Henry McCord didn't think he'd ever seen such a look of pain and devastation in his life. He was tempted to go to her, but decided it would be weird and not appreciated if he approached her when she was obviously so vulnerable. Instead, he waited by the door and peeked out a couple of times to make sure she was okay. Henry was floored when she came back into the room only a few minutes later looking like nothing had happened.

He moved to take his shift at the booth the Religious Studies club was working, but he watched her as she moved through the room, fixing minor problems, talking and smiling to everyone. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would've never believed she could have been sobbing just moments before.

It was nearing the end of the night and everyone was cleaning up their area. Liz was flitting around making sure that everything was packed up to be put into storage for the following year. She passed him and let out a small sigh when she saw a game that had been abandoned the next space. "I can help with that if you like?" he offered, smiling at her.

Liz took in the young man before her. She hadn't met him before, but there was something about him, something that made the pressure that was a constant in her chest ease up, just the tiniest bit. "Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks." They made short work of the task and Henry helped her with the rest of the clean up.

They walked out of the building together and let the security guard lock up. "By the way," he said, "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Henry McCord."

"It's nice to meet you, Henry. I'm Liz Adams."

"Liz. I'm guessing that's short for Elizabeth."

"It's been a lot of years since anyone called me Elizabeth."

Elizabeth

Three months later they lay together, their limbs intertwined. She drew nonsensical patterns on his shoulder, and he did the same on her back. He kissed the top of her head and his hand moved up and brushed through her hair. Henry pulled back to look at her. "You're a blonde?"

She shrugged one shoulder, realizing that she should've had her roots done last week. "Yeah, I used to be."

"One day I hope to see the real you," he murmured.

She met his gaze. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, the edge in her voice creeping in.

"Nothing bad. You are very careful about what you allow others to see. I hope that one day you will trust me enough to let me really know you. All of you."

"There's a reason I don't let people in." The look she gave him implored him to drop the subject.

"I know," he leaned back in and took her upper lip between his . He deepened the kiss and she pressed herself against him needing to be close. "One day Elizabeth. One day."

Mama

It had been such a long time since Elizabeth longed to be anyone other than who she was, but now after weeks after weeks of 8 month old Stevie saying "Da-da." Elizabeth wanted so much to hear their daughter give her a name. Stevie sat in the middle if the living room floor, surrounded by an assortment of toys. Elizabeth lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, her face only a couple feet from Stevie, and for the hundredth time that day, she said, "Say Mama."

Stevie cocked her head to the side, giggled, and said, "Da-da." Elizabeth's expression caused her to further dissolve into an uncontrolled belly laugh. Elizabeth groaned and dropped her head on the carpet. Stevie continued to laugh. Elizabeth raised her head, made a silly face and then dropped her head back on the carpet. Stevie laughed until her face was bright red. Elizabeth let her head rest on the floor, reaching out to tweak Stevie's toes.

Stevie leaned forward to touch Elizabeth's blonde waves. She patted gently. "Ma-ma," she said, a full second pause between each of the syllables. Elizabeth's head snapped up.

"Mama?" she asked.

"Da-da," Stevie giggled.

Elizabeth smiled. It didn't matter. She'd heard it. She was now Mama.

Madam Secretary

Conrad climbed back in his SUV and the motorcade pulled away from the farm house. Elizabeth leaned against the column on the porch. Henry stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around around her waist. "So, a job promotion, huh?"

She tipped her head back to look at him. "Think I'm ready for that name change?" she asked.

He placed his lips on hers. "I think it would look good on you," he murmured.

Confirmation hearings only took an afternoon and then she was sworn in. Elizabeth stood with Henry by her side and took the oath. "I, Elizabeth Adams McCord, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

"Congratulations Madam Secretary," Henry said as he kissed her chastly, cameras flashing.

Gigi

Elizabeth sat in the chair next to Stevie's hospital bed. She looked down into the bundle cradled in her arms. "Hello, Jacob Henry." She ran her finger across his cheek and her new grandson scrunched his nose up causing her to chuckle. Henry stepped around the end of the bed and moved behind Elizabeth squeezing her shoulders. He peered over her to get a good look at the baby.

He looked at Stevie, who was watching them, sporting a goofy grin. "You guys are going to be awful aren't you?'

"That's our plan." Elizabeth said, smiling at the baby in her arms.

"Definitely," Henry agreed.

"I was thinking about names the other day," Stevie said. Elizabeth looked at her quizzically. "Grandparent names," she clarified.

"Josh's parents want to be called Nana and Papa, because that's what the older kids call them, but since Jacob is the first grandchild on our side, you get to pick, within reason of course," Stevie said.

Elizabeth looked at Henry and he smirked. "Babe, we've got parameters. You know, just to make sure we don't go off the rails." She shrugged.

"I'll think about it," she said. "What do you want to call me?" she hummed to the baby as she rocked him back and forth.

"Gigi," Jacob screeched as he went tearing through the kitchen and crashed into her leg.

"What Jakey?" she asked as she filled his cup with milk and screwed the top on. He accepted the cup and held his chubby arms up to her. She grinned and pulled him up on her hip.

Tucking his cup under his arm, he laid his head in the crook of her neck. "Wuv you Gigi,"

"I love you too baby boy," she crooned, her hand cradling the back of his head, swaying gently. He yawned. "Are you ready for your nap already?"

He started to squirm away. In an attempt not to drop him, she set him down quickly. "Find PapaGigi. Read me stowy." Off Jake ran, and Elizabeth chuckled. Jake had named both grandfathers Papa. To differentiate, he linked their names with the grandmothers. Henry was PapaGigi and Josh's dad was PapaNana. Henry wasn't particularly fond of the name, but each time he grimaced, he was reminded that in all too short a time, Jake would outgrow it and Henry would actually miss being PapaGigi.

Names. Elizabeth leaned back against the kitchen counter and thought of the many she'd had over the years. The Lizzie of her youth and teen years, a name that held so many good memories and horribly sad ones. Bess, that started as a way to escape, but became the name by which she was known during her career at the CIA and then once she bridged into academia. Liz, the name she used to see just how far away from her true self she would go. Elizabeth, the name used most often by her parents and Henry, the people who loved her most deeply. Mama, the name that accompanied her greatest treasures, her children. Madam Secretary, the name she originally took out of obligation, but ended up being her most challenging and most rewarding professionally. Gigi, she smiled at that one. There had been a time in her life when she didn't think she would ever love anyone again. The idea that not only had she loved and there were children born of that love, but now her children were having children made her smile widely.

Henry watched her from the doorway. He couldn't help but smile because hers was so beautiful. He made his way to her, and leaned against the island facing her. "What are you thinking about that's making you smile like that?" he asked. "Me, I hope."

"You may have been involved." She smirked at him. "I was just thinking of the many names I've had over the years."

"I suppose that's the side effect of having a name with so many variations."

"Maybe, but there's a lot to a name. I'm happy to have had a few to mark the changes in my life." She studied him, "I'm glad you were around for most of them."

"Me too." He kissed her.