An one-shot, centered around the State dinner scene. (Scandal 103.) A few creative changes. Hope you like.

There are two kinds of secrets. The ones we keep from others and the ones we keep from ourselves. - Frank Warren

It was last minute. She didn't have anything to wear. There was more work to do at home. The odds were against her. Declining would have been a bold move. But when did Olivia ever cower from a challenge?

Stepping out of the towncar, Olivia made her way to her destination. Only God Himself knew that she still had a smooth white gown and open-toe heels at the ready. Even an extra 30 minutes to style her curly hair the way she wanted to. With moments to spare, she arrived. As the doors to the State Dining Room opened, Olivia took a deep breath. No longer the Cinderella at the ball, but having the intense gut feeling of looking like a misplaced stepchild, Olivia humbly approached the receiving line. There was no time but the present to turn on her famous "Pope" face and attack the situation the only way she knew how.

Olivia was invited to attend the State dinner at the White House. It was a rare opportunity to be inside the walls of this building, outside of business. But the environment was very familiar. Olivia spent early mornings and late nights in the West Wing. Everyone counted on her. But then it became too much. There was too much at stake and that devastated her. Having to choose between what was comfortable and what was right, Olivia believe she made a decision that let her sleep at night.

After leaving her job as the Communications Director, she was able to avoid 1600 Penn Ave with moderate ease. But this time, she couldn't avoid the spotlight. Even if you try, you don't say no to the White House. State dinners were not to be missed and if you got invited, you found a way to get there.

Waiting for her turn, Olivia surveyed the room. Some of her former co-workers were dressed to the nines. Her former boss and mentor, Cyrus, was brooding at the bar. Then, she quickly put her gaze on the man of the hour. The first-term president, Fitzgerald Grant, was standing, shaking hands with his guests. Giving his well-known crooked smile as he greeted each person. But his stance was unusually rigid. Something was different.

Moving at a glacial pace allowed Olivia to think about everything that led to this point.

Their first meeting when she called out why he wasn't leading the polls. Their first fight. Additional meetings. The bus rides. How vulnerable they became with each other. Communicating with their eyes. Being in a hallway during the most crucial time. The first time they kissed. Finding opportunities to sneak away. Literally, any chance they got. Falling apart by his hand. Their first time making love. Waking up to him beside her. The first time they said "I love you". When he won the Presidency.

There was stirrings in the press that they were dating, but no one knew for sure. Being close didn't equate to a relationship. Olivia was pleased that she was able to hide behind her powerful title. She was making this man into a President. To make matters worse, he became publicly involved with other women, to assuage the public image, that include a long-term fling with Mellie DiNarzio, a Southern belle and former lawyer. Olivia knew they were close to becoming engaged, but they were skirting around the topic. They were America's new couple. It was tricky, but Fitz and Mellie were making it work.

But where did that leave her? A presidential candidate hooking up with his campaign manager? Who was already committed-in a sense-to someone else? That would be a scandal Olivia could never live down. Everything became so difficult. The workload was manageable - the White House was her goal, dream job But with extra pressure of work, and hiding her feelings for Fitzgerald, Olivia didn't know if she could handle it.

He was the only reason why she would want to stay but the real reason why she couldn't.

So, during his State of the Union address, Olivia placed a resignation letter on his desk and left.

She tried to avoid him. For six months. It didn't always work. Vermont happened and it struck a chord, leaving her with a ring that meant the world to him. It usually took residence on her left index finger, but tonight, opted for a large pearl.

"Liv,," Mellie sweetly acknowledged, pulling Olivia in with a warm hug. It was weird, but she went along with it. "I knew it was a last minute thing and I don't know why the social secretary left you off the list."

Olivia smiled graciously, "It's no worry. I'm glad I could make it."

"Doesn't she look beautiful, Fitz?"

"Of course."

The President nodded with a close mouthed grin. Dapper in a black tux, hair slicked back, with curls that were incredible to the touch. "I'm so happy you come." His voice was soft, but still found a way to resonate through her being. She already knew by his eyes, that they were in trouble. It would be a long evening.

Olivia played coy and looked at Mellie as she responded, "I wouldn't miss it, Mister President."

A quick glance with a wide smile, she kindly nodded, only to move to the left. Eager to say her hellos to the Prime Minister and his wife - but more importantly ready to move away. She was just another invited guest; holding up the line was not the way to go, With the same photogenic smile as earlier, she continued to shake hands, hug, and kiss, but she could feel his eyes on her.

Even less than five feet away from him, brought back all of the memories and feelings. The thoughts that she worked very hard to push away, but plagued her at night. When she was alone.

After the dinner hour, the musicians began to play. Guests were free to migrate to the dance floor and more of chance to socialize. Billy Chambers, the Vice President's Chief of Staff, asked Olivia dance and she obliged. There was no harm in dancing. She always had to watch out for him though. A slick one, always a guy who smooth-talked his way into things. On the campaign trail, he tried-and failed - to convince Olivia to concede, and get President Grant on Sally Langston's ticket. She paid for her drink and walked out.

Fast forward a year, they were moving well on the floor.

"You're quite a dancer, Billy. Better than I expected."

"Andover," he answered nonchalantly. "I took the ballroom dancing class twice. It gave me all the chances to be with girls."

Olivia hummed as they waltzed. Billy had her twirling all over, which brought attention to everyone. She has having a nice time, doing whatever she could to distract herself. She noticed that Billy was pondering over something. When she asked, she wasn't expecting his answer.

"I'm thinking of how I can date you," Billy said.

"What?"

"You don't work here anymore. There wouldn't be any scandals. C'mon. Or...is there someone else? Another guy?"

Before she could find a smartass rebuttal, Mellie interrupted them, with Fitz walking by her side.

"Olivia? May I have the pleasure of stealing Billy away? I'd like a chance with the best dancer in the West Wing. No offense, Fitz."

As Billy walked to Mellie's side, that left Olivia and Fitz partnerless. Mellie surely had some plan, Olivia thought. Why would she do that? Leaving her with no choice but to talk with him. Standing incredibly close to this man, who changed her life, allowing her to disregard boundaries and the norms.

Fitz extended his hand and Olivia graciously accepted. Her smirk met his. When he placed his right hand on her lower back, it took the strength of Samson and willpower of a saint to not fall into a lovesick stupor. It was awkward, but the two had become very good at acting - playing the part.

His eyes were burning, so she quickly retorted. "Don't look at me."

Fitz asked in a playful manner, "How come?"

"Because then they'll know," Olivia succinctly replied, looking above his shoulder.

"But I want them to."

"Not now. Especially since we never discussed this."

"Which is your fault. This is all ridiculous," he whispered.

"Don't."

The talking ceased for a little bit.

"I can't not look at you."

Olivia refrained from rolling her eyes as they moved clockwise. In her typical no-nonsense way, she answered, "The song will be over in a minute."

Cold as she was being, Olivia didn't want to attract sneaky eyes onto them. She thought it was obvious - they were guilty. The lustful glances. His hand placement was different than the other men. The hushed tones of their conversations. The quiet shuffling across the smooth floor created a nice feel.

1-2-3, 1-2-3.

"Everything is ridiculous. How did it get so..."

The horn section filled the grandiose room. Olivia snuck a peek, but when she saw that he was still fixated on her, she whipped her eyes elsewhere. Waiting for this moment to be over, Olivia counted in her head. The audacity of this swooping love song to play at this time was killing her. As well as his fingers brushing tenderly on her skin.

"Look at me."

She wasn't going to.

"Damnit, just look at me."

Olivia knew her resolve was fading, but she was in public, and this would become a distraction. Her mind wandered to a few weeks prior, when she was pressed against the window by the Resolute Desk, and he asked her to look at him. That didn't end well.

Being hurt wasn't in the agenda. Bu she kept risking the well-being of her heart because of him. That made so angry with herself. Fitz was always a distraction. For her. For over a year.

Her eyes shot to his face. There. Eyes locked, souls are now in a bubble, among a crowd. As long as they saw each other, nothing else mattered.

"Meet me in our spot in ten minutes."

"No." She didn't even give the words time to breathe before she shot him down. Meanwhile, they continued to dance. Nodding and smiling at whoever else was dancing around them.

"I am not spending any more time away from you."

His eyes were still on her. Olivia scolded him.

"Stop it, we're in public, look away."

Olivia knew him. He couldn't mask his emotions if he tried. Fitzgerald Grant was easy to detect - eyes marked with desire, tongue would slip out. Hands would reach out to get her attention. The eternal smirk was there. He never looked at anyone else this way. Not even Mellie.

And to her approval, he did fix his gaze somewhere else. But he continued to talk.

"I know. I don't have the right. You don't trust me, this isn't-"

By now, Olivia was somewhat drowning him out. It was all talk, void of real promises. They told each other this would end this after the election. He had a job to do, and being with her wasn't part of the responsibilities. She was too close to be involved. Everything would be worse than it already was. Olivia wanted to be his. Being out in the open was her dream. Standing by this beautiful and powerful man. Until he made changes with the other women in his life, she couldn't believe what he said.

"I love you."

She knew he was going to do this. Whenever he didn't know where to go next, he'd blurt that phrase out. Like it was a bandaid to cover any discomfort. Her responses were becoming shorter and full of tension. "What about Mellie?"

"I love you."

"The other girls you're dating?"

"I," he breathed, slowing down their movement. "Love. You."

Olivia couldn't look away. It was like they were frozen in time for a minute. Words cut deep. Each time she threw out a curve ball, he would escape and boomerang it. Whenever Fitz said those three words, it became kryptonite.

The mark of applause was their cue to separate and face the band. Olivia was relieved to break free from this situation. Fitz slightly leaned over to say - just above a whisper. "Our spot. Ten minutes."

Remaining steadfast, Olivia dismissed, "You can't leave your own state dinner."

His voice gave away his defiance.

"Watch me."

Olivia was stuck; that man was acting as if there was no drama between them and those around them. Fitz continued to socialize - as if nothing happened - then used his long strides to exit the room.

As the next song began, Olivia rubbed her hands together, found her table, taking a sip of her water - no alcohol - and snuck away.

She knew the escape routes. Make a left here, turn right, keep walking. Olivia never forgot. Fitz never took her off a list that gained access to the various parts of this place. Being in a simple yet sleeveless dress, dress, that exposed most of her back, Olivia cursed herself as she walked into the cool Washington air. Which was rare, because it could get extremely muggy and humid. Even at this time of year.

A few more steps to the right and she would make it. No one had seen her. At least, she didn't think so. His agents knew the drill. They'd let her pass under his command.

The familiar setting of colors, that now shone under the moon's light. Hidden away from the public and wandering eyes. If they were caught, it wouldn't be their spot anymore. She was only going to wait for three minutes. If he didn't appear, she would leave. Disappointment was settling in and Olivia couldn't take this kind of heartbreak anymore.

"Hi."

Olivia turned around. Fitz was there, hands in pockets.

"Hi."

"I knew you would come."

"Well," she replied. "You're very persuasive."

Fitz smiled. "You look amazing."

"Thank you." She tried to not boast, but she wore that dress for a reason. He knew he would notice how the gown would accentuate every curve and show off her skin that he loved to kiss and touch. But still classy and elegant. She always wanted to make an impression and stand out.

"I miss you, Liv."

"I know."

Olivia crossed her arms, keeping her distance.

"Could we try again? I want to do better."

Pursing her lips and counting down to her moment of truth, Olivia finally asked. "What about the others? You tell me one thing but I find you're still playing around. You think you're slick and you're not. I'm not some whore you can leave behind in the shadows whenever it's time to get back into the light."

Fitz didn't move. The smile was long absent and he was silent. Olivia knew that he despised that word, but she had to say it. He needed to understand. Sneaking around never becomes a positive; there was always going to be a dark cloud covering their relationship or whatever this was, if things didn't change. Things got heavy on the campaign trail, and they seemed to be the only two who didn't play by the rules and call a spade a spade. Although he wasn't married, he wasn't hers. Not yet.

"I don't care about them."

Olivia admonished, pointing her finger at him, "You haven't changed since I've left."

"But that's the thing," Fitz spoke, with a bit of resentment. "You left."

Surprised by his tone, Olivia frowned, "Fitz."

"Thank God. No more Mr. President."

Olivia cringed at Fitz's choice of deflection. At any other time, she'd laugh or shove him. But this wasn't right. "You know why. There's no point of rehashing old wounds. This isn't getting anywhere. You should head back."

"I've left my own parties before. Remember?"

Olivia shook her head. Fitz was always ready with a snarky comeback. A brisk wind came through, leaving her chilled to the bone. The price of looking beautiful and not preparing for the temperature dropping.

"Here."

Fitz stood behind Olivia, draping his jacket over her shoulders.

"I'm fine."

"You're cold."

Olivia looked away, smiling to herself. As much as she knew him, he knew her. Stubborn as can be, she would still accept his kindness, even when she felt like she didn't deserve it.

Fitz asked, "Remember the last time we were here?"

"Absolutely."

"Did you mean those things?"

"Yes," Olivia stated, "I don't lie. But I won't keep living like this. I'm tired of hiding. It's not fair to me."

Fitz took a breath. "Good. I'm going to do everything in my power to win you back To win your approval and forgiveness."

It was like they knew. Through whatever distance they had - intentional or not - they would come back to each other. Olivia held onto his hands, appreciating them, while their lips touched. That moment when you finally get to breathe after being underwater for too long. That's how she felt when she kissed him. A burst of oxygen in her lungs, to keep her going. She was sure he felt the same. Tender and soft pecks that moved into something more. When he put his foot in between her, to close the gap, she knew.

They didn't have much time, which was always the problem. Mellie, Cyrus, and the crew would be looking. Olivia carefully ran her fingers through his hair, wanting to feel him before she had to go. Fitz tried to find a way to give her more.

"Livvie," he sighed into her mouth, cupping her backside, bringing her even closer. She could feel him against her body, which made her moan.

With the combination of his voice and his touch, Olivia could have burst. He didn't have to take off her clothes or touch her intimately for her to experience that euphoria. His mouth on hers, devouring lips and tongues. Knowing they couldn't tell when the next time they'd have to feel and touch and say whatever they wanted. In person, opposite the late night calls on a secure line.

"I love you."

Olivia mumbled against his swollen lips, "I have to go."

"But Livvie," Fitz interjected, "I love you."

Fighting tears, Olivia hugged him tightly. "I love you." She did reserve that for him, but only when she knew she could express it correctly. She heard him sigh, because he was well aware of her caution. Without making a fuss, she wiggled out of his embrace. She noticed Fitz's ears were extra red and there was visible excitement below his belt. This time she has the upper hand. She had to move forward on her terms and wanted him to feel and hurt. Like her.

"When will I see you again," he asked, before giving Olivia another searing kiss.

Looking up at his face, already marked with the wear and tear of the job, she saw hope.

"Soon."

There was always hope.