Disclaimer: I do not own Scandal
AN: So, this is my latest story. I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you so much for your support of This, History in the Making and True Believers. I hope this story is just as loved!
Also - I'm not a lawyer, nor have I ever been to law school. While this story is not based around law, the beginning of this chapter is and I made it up as I went. Don't judge! The content of it doesn't honestly matter to the story as a whole, so just go with it! ~ XOXO MAS
Elevators buttons and morning air
Harvard Law School, 1997
Twenty-one year old Olivia Pope pushed open the door to her first class. Her schedule, which she'd already memorized along with a map of Harvard, was tucked away in her briefcase. She'd worked hard to finish undergrad at Georgetown in three years and worked even harder to score the highest LSAT score ever to come out of the institution to land herself a spot at Harvard Law. She knew she'd have to work twice as hard to maintain the respect of the professors and her peers. She was young, she was female, she was from a very middle class family, she was here on loans and scholarship money, and she was not white. She wasn't interested in making friends. She wanted connections in the business world, good grades, a diploma and to pass the Bar. That was it. Get in and get out.
Determined to do her family proud she paused in the doorway to assess the seating situation. Most of the class hadn't arrived yet, Judge Randall, the professor, wasn't even present yet. As she zoned in on a chair in the middle of the room, someone knocked into her. "Watch it!" She turned, rubbing her head.
The man, tall and lean with a mop of curly brown hair, looked down at her, "Sorry." He flashed her a bright grin and pushed past her, sitting in the chair she'd mentally chosen a moment before.
With a small huff of annoyance, she picked a seat a few desks over, settling in and pulling out the book for the class they'd already been asked to read from, her notebook and a pen.
Fifteen minutes later the class was called to order, "My name is Judge Randall. I'm a retired judge on the 5th circuit of appeals here in Boston." The older man who had clearly seen better days, perched himself on the edge of the desk, "Welcome to Harvard Law. This is Criminal Law, let's start with with your reading on the Jones case." He jumped straight into lecture, not bothering with any further pleasantries. Olivia straightened, pen poised over her pad, glasses adjusted on the tip of her nose, ready to start her first year off running.
Fifteen minutes later there was a debate going on between students as to the validity of one of the witnesses in the case. "You can't dismiss her just because she was a victim. She was also a witness. And, yes, there were clear emotional and mental issues and traumas, but what she says could be important." Olivia argued.
"She was too close to the defendant." Another shot back.
"Being close has nothing to do with it. Her story was destroyed by the police the moment she was questioned. She's unreliable."
Olivia's eyes landed on the latest voice of dissent, the man who'd run into her and stolen her seat, "That doesn't mean the prosecution can't put her on the stand. They could still question her and"
"And what? What would they gain from that?" The man snapped back at her quickly.
"They could show that the story she fed the cops, who other than showing a mixed up timeline were never able to completely debunk, and show it was actually a way to protect Jones." Olivia explained sharply.
Judge Randall chuckled, "Well, Miss" he paused and motioned for her to say her name.
"Pope. Olivia Pope." She introduced herself.
"Well, Miss Pope, it seems you and Mr." he paused again.
"Grant, Fitzgerald Grant." The man responded. Olivia had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She'd heard Senator Grant's son was out of the Navy and going to law school on the east coast. She'd prayed for Yale.
"It seems that you and Mr. Grant both make interesting points. Tell me, even though we've already proved that Jenkins is an unreliable witness, who would put her on the stand anyhow?" Half the class raised their hands, "And who wouldn't." The remaining hands shot up. "Interesting." He paused, "Mr. Grant, your rebuttal?"
SCANDAL
Fitzgerald Grant saw the recognition in Olivia's eyes when he said his name. He saw it and he saw her dismiss him as nothing than a pretty boy with daddy's money and a good head of hair. Still, she didn't back down from the fight. She didn't make it easier on him because she thought he may have gotten in on his name and trust fund. And she didn't acquiescence to his opinion because of who he was. She fought. And her fire was sexy as hell.
He grabbed her elbow just as she rounded the corner of the hallway after class, "Fitz Grant." He held out his hand.
Olivia stared at that hand for a moment before finally shaking it, "Olivia Pope."
"Pretty good job in there, Miss Pope." He complimented.
She scoffed, "Yes, because I'm looking for the approval from Big Jerry Grant's son." She stepped back, "I'll see you in class on Wednesday."
He side-stepped so he was in front of her, "Actually, I was thinking you may want to have a cup of coffee. With me." He clarified. "We could go over the readings together, get the debating out of the way, come up with a kick ass argument that"
"Group work leads to me doing all the work." Olivia cut in, "No, thank you."
He chuckled, "Actually, I'm a lot smarter than you're giving me credit for. One cup of coffee?" He requested. "If I seem like an idiot you can go."
She glanced down at her watch. If she didn't leave she'd be late for class. "Fine, tomorrow afternoon 4pm. The shop in the Quad. Don't be late."
He saluted her. "You got it, Liv." She rolled her eyes, but left him.
SCANDAL
Olivia realized ten minutes into her cup of coffee with Fitzgerald Grant that she, had not only underestimated him and his intelligence, but that she would not be able to skate by during her three years here without connections. Get in and get out officially would not happen. The brown haired blue eyed twenty-eight year old from California across from her was a game changer. And based on the sparkle in his eyes, he felt the same about her. He was refreshingly open and honest. He was smart and witty and driven and passionate. He was different.
When the coffee date ended with a plan of attack for class the next day and drinks before a party on Greek Row Friday night, she knew she was in trouble. And she couldn't find it in herself to care.
SCANDAL
XOXO
MAS
AN: I know it was super short, but it was just an intro. . . So, what do you all think? ~ XOXO MAS