The characters of Olivia Pope, Fitzgerald Grant III and Cyrus Beene are all characters from the ABC show Scandal. They are owned by them solely. These characters are part of a fanfiction piece I am writing. My writing and thoughts are in no way connected to the Scandal writers. My storylines however may mesh with older storylines written by Scandal writers. At no point is my intent to copy their work.

It Happened That Night

Chapter 1 The Perspectives

(Hers)

About six months ago Olivia Pope had quit her job and gone on the road. At the bequest of her teacher and one time mentor Cyrus Beene she has taken on the job of campaign manager and political fixer for the Governor of California. He was running for President. According to Cyrus they were behind in the polls and their campaign had stagnated. He had practically begged her to come and help him. She had observed the campaign for a couple of weeks and decided to take the job. It would not been easy. Apparently the Governor had first and foremost a shaky marriage. He was a consummate politician so probably just a little fine tuning was needed there. So she had laid into the marriage and got the two to realize that they had to flip the script, present a united front, a loving marriage to the people or they would get nowhere near Pennsylvania Avenue. They had followed her lead and they were climbing in the polls and people were starting to believe in a Grant presidency.

From the moment she laid eyes on Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III her heart nearly stopped. She was mesmerized. She had taken a deep breathed and moved on. She sensed he had a moment too. She had often found him watching her, but she just chose to ignore him. In a debate once he had looked directly at her when he spoke of the woman he loved. She ignored that too. They'd had their "one minute" and they both had moved on.

So now she sat on a bus in rural Georgia more or less afraid to approach the man she worked for because she knew deep down in her gut, and her gut was never wrong, that she loved him. Olivia had wrestled with whether or not to approach the Governor to say sorry about the loss of he and Mellie's child. She usually steered clear of the Governor because her attraction to him had thrown her off her game. When she was near him she wasn't herself. He make her feel things. He looked at her the way a man does when they wanted to be more than friends. Not that he had done anything other than ask for that "one minute" months ago. They had just stared at each other, it was harmless. Who the hell was she kidding? No it wasn't.

She had wanted to hold him, kiss him, and other things. He stared at her in that minute like she was everything to him. He had the "if only look" and she knew that they had better take that "one minute" and cherish it. It was all they would ever have. He was the governor of California who would one day be the President of the United States of America. He was married with children and she did not mess with married men. But she wanted to express her condolences. He and Mellie had lost a child. She hurt for him. She just wanted to say sorry. So she got up and walked to the back of the bus.

He sat there so pensive tonight. Yet he usually came alive around people. He lit up a room, people gravitated toward him. He was a natural politician. But when he was not on the political trail he seemed so alone. He and his wife appeared to barely tolerate each other. They played nice for the cameras but after that they were as cold as ice to each other. But she could not dwell on that, it was none of her business. She had a job to do and she should do it. So she walked to the back of the bus to say sorry and see what he wanted to do after the prayer breakfast tomorrow. He was looking out the window so she took the opportunity to stare. She did that often; stared at Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III mainly because she could not help herself. The man made her want things she couldn't have and she needed to squash those wants. She imagined touching his hair, face, his entire body. She had a school girl crush on the guy and it had better stay that way.

(His)

He had been just staring out the window wondering why he had ever agreed to do this. Did he really want to be President of the United States of America? He thought maybe he did. Olivia, he could feel her presence before he even turned. Her scent intoxicated him. From the moment he had laid his eyes on her he had wanted to touch her. Touch her? He wanted to push her against a wall and fuck her. Even now his other head was stirring. He knew he desired her but there was something else. He had tried to deny it but he honestly believed he loved her. He thought of her day and night. And he dreamed of her. God those dreams. A man his age should not be having wet dreams.

He had last touched his wife sexually over ten years ago. Their biannual couplings had been the worst. Her just lying there like a board and he above her pumping like a fool just wanting it to be over. He could have taken a mistress in fact Mellie as much as told him to get one and "stop bothering her." It wasn't his style, so he had faced the fact that his wife was frigid and he just jacked off when he got the urge. A pathetic sex life, a pathetic life period. And now in this pathetic life of his he had seen a woman he wanted more than anything and he was stuck in a loveless marriage and running a campaign to become the leader of the free world. Just once he would give anything to have a do-over, to re-set his life and have someone of his very own to love and have them love him back.

He often wondered if she could see what he felt for her in his eyes. He took a deep breath and turned. His heart was racing and his breathing hitched. He looked into her brown eyes and he saw concern there. She was so fucking beautiful. Her skin was flawless, the color a mocha brown with a wisp of golden honey. Her hair was long and black. She had it pinned up tonight. It wasn't "silky" straight but God he would give away all his millions to touch it. Her nose was a button just sitting there pretty as you please. She had the long graceful neck of a model and her breast, yes he had ogled them. They looked small but he really couldn't be sure. Her waist was tiny and her hips hugged her skirts and pants just right. Her legs were short but well formed, they were beautiful too. On the few occasions she wore a dress or skirt and he could see them, he imagined them locked around him as her pumped into her. She was what 5 ft 3 inches tall maybe? She wore six inch heels everywhere. They put her at just below his eye level. He could barely wait to see her every day. She fawned over him like a mother hen. This slip of a woman Cyrus had hired to run his campaign. She was intent on seeing him as President of the United States of America and he thanked Cyrus and God everyday for bringing her into his life.

And she had entered his life with a flourish. His campaign was limping along and he knew it. He has just finished reading his latest poll numbers and decided to come out and rally the troops. He needed to make a turn around if he really expected to win this thing. He stood in the middle of his campaign office and started in on what he thought was wrong and what they should do to correct it. Suddenly out of the blue this absolutely gorgeous Black woman started in on him. "It's your marriage, it seems cold, dead," she said. He knew that but did everyone in the fucking world know it too. She hammered him, shamed him really in front of his troops. He had been a naval officer and you did not allow yourself to be hammered in front of your troops. Who did she think she was? Who the hell is this? He asked her, "and you are?" "Olivia Pope," she said. His heart somersaulted and the air was sucked from his lungs. He looked at her and said to himself I have to get this woman out of here. He had wanted her right then and there. His dick was stirring like he was what sixteen? He closed his eyes and thought of his father and how much he hated him, it was his sure fire way to drain the blood from his dick, thinking of his no good father. It worked. His good for nothing father apparently was good for something.

Back to Livvie, he called her that now; of course she didn't know that. She sat down beside him. They were on the campaign trail heading to Atlanta. She would probably brief him about tomorrow. He turned to her smiled and said hi. She returned the pleasantry and dove right in. She was sorry about the baby he and Mellie had lost. They could cancel events. Did Mellie need time off? Mellie the bane of his existence. It was all a lie. Mellie had not had a miscarriage at all. She was a lying manipulative bitch. He did not hate her but it was close. If she'd had a miscarriage it certainly was not his. He was never going back there ever. He was 46 years old and committing himself to a sexless marriage. He would not become his father, indiscriminately fucking anything that moved because his wife hated him. No he would go on as he had.

It bothered him that Olivia thought Mellie was a decent person. His wife was a viper and not good enough to wipe the mud from Olivia Pope's shoes. Why did he stay in this loveless foul marriage? Admittedly he was politically ambitious. He needed a wife and family for obvious reasons. Mellie loved to nag him about the children she gave him and the fact that she was his most valuable asset. Whatever! Many a night he thought of just walking away. The kids that Mellie had birthed and turned over to nannies to raise as soon as they were dried off and then off to boarding schools as soon as they could fend for themselves. Would they survive a divorce? He felt they would. He did not like the way Mellie dealt with the children. They had fought like cats and dogs about it. He wanted them home. He wanted to love them, really love them and be a real father to them. But Mellie she did not have a motherly bone in her body and it was obvious. A woman that cared not a whit for her children, he couldn't bear to watch it so he let her send them off. He honestly felt they were better off. His wife was a monster and he would be damn if he was going to let Olivia Pope think otherwise.

"My wife," he said "is fine." And then proceed to tell her there was no baby, Mellie had made all the bullshit up. He could tell she was stunned. She just stared for a moment in disbelief and horror letting the shit sink in. She took a deep breath and said sorry, apparently ready to leave the shady and nefarious details of my marriage and my wife to me. He looked at her this woman that he loved. He had months ago decided not to lie to himself about what he felt for her. He said out loud mainly to himself, "How did I get here?" Of course he knew the answer to that one. Big Jerry had orchestrated this entire mess. He knew this so there he sat wallowing in misery.

"Why did I marry her and not wait for you to come along," Fitz said right to Olivia Pope. She had the decency to ignore him and pretend he had said nothing. He sat there just staring out the window not knowing what else to say. He turned to her and said, "Say my name." If he could hear it from her mouth just once maybe he could go on in his misery. It was inappropriate she said. He turned to the window again and just stared. For what seemed liked minutes she said nothing. So she felt nothing then, he had imagined she may have cared a little bit. And then she said it like an angel his name, "Fitz." At first he thought he had imagined it, but it echoed in his head. He turned to look at her and she said it again. "Fitz." He placed his hand in between them and he laced her hand with his. His breath locked in his lungs. He looked at their hands one black and one white and squeezed hers and she squeezed his back.

She turned to him then and he placed his other hand along her jaw and she laid into it. He knew he loved her long before tonight but he could tell she was skittish. The fact that he was married was keeping her away from him. Her head was on his shoulder and her scent was intoxicating him. He held her hand and dreamed. He wanted to place her hand atop his bulging erection, God he wanted this woman for himself. But he was foiled again thanks to that son of a bitch of a father of his! She had closed her eyes and was just sitting there letting him hold her hand. They stayed like that for hours as they rode through Georgia.

They arrived at their hotel and he had awakened her. She looked down at their joined hands and said, it was so nice sitting with you Governor. If you need anything just let me know. In his head Fitz said, "I need you to love me back." He really said, "Thank-you Olivia for everything. They gathered their bags and checked in. Cyrus said they had the entire west wing of the top floor and SS was guarding the entire floor. They got into the elevator and went to their rooms. They got out and walked to the hallway to their prospective rooms.

Cyrus came upon his first, and said, "This is me." He closed his door and went inside. He walked behind her because (1) he loved the way she walked, (2) he loved watching her ass, (3) he loved her period. He had to stop this. She had held his hand yes, but it didn't mean she was changing her mind about anything. Her room was next. She didn't look back when she said, "This is me." She stopped but she didn't make an effort to go inside, she just stood there. Shit! She did not want to go into the room. Was it that she did not want to go in there alone or did she want to ask him in or what? This was an important move and he knew it. All the moves had to be hers, though. She was thinking.

God let her decide we are worth it, whatever it is between us. He was dying and had to say something. So He said, "Just pretend none of this ever happened and just go to your room." She did not budge. "Go to your room." Suddenly she just turned and started walking toward his room. She had said nothing. He knew she had decided to be with him. He wanted to jump up and down like a fool. But he didn't want her to change her mind, he didn't say shit. His eyes followed her for a few seconds and then he took off after her. She walked up to his door and stood there. He put his key in and pushed the door open. She walked in and stood right in the foyer with her bags saying nothing, her head hung in defeat he was thinking. He moved her bags and took her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. He turned her face up to his and said, "I love you, you know." She cradled his face in both of her hands and looked him in the eyes and said, "I know." And then she put her lips on his, kissing him like her life depended on it. She was in his arms. It felt like she belonged there. "There is a God," he said to himself!

(Hers)

She had come back here to offer comfort. He looked so unhappy. She sat down and fell right in, said she was sorry about the baby, inquired about his wife and stated if they needed time off just let her know. He turned around even before she had sat down like he knew she was there. He looked so sad. She just wanted to pull him to her breast hold him and let him know things would get better. He and Mrs. Grant seemed to be getting along. And if they had made a baby evidently the ice had thawed between them.

He looked at her and said his wife was fine. And that she was a liar. There was no baby. She had done it all to get votes. She had stared in disbelief. The woman who would possibly be the next FLOTUS was a ruthless liar. It wouldn't sink in. He was married to a person that would perpetrate a fraud of this magnitude? She was speechless. She started to rise. She needed to move away.

"How did I get here? He seemed to be saying to her. He said something like "Why did I marry her, why hadn't waited for her. She was stunned. He was looking at her as he always did with love in his eyes. She tried to turn away and flee but she couldn't. He appeared so wounded by this apparent mess. She didn't want to stare him directly in the eyes for fear he would see what she saw when she looked at him. She decided to go with grace and tact.

"Governor Grant," she started but he cut her off. "We are way past that he said, "Say my name," it was a plea not a request. The impropriety of it all was too much. He was her client. 'It's inappropriate," she said. He smiled that smile of his and said, "Let's be inappropriate." She liked to have died when he said it because it was what she wanted more than anything at the moment, to be inappropriate with this man. She was afraid she was falling in love with him. Or possibly she was already there. And he was married, she didn't do married men, she didn't do her clients! She didn't speak, she couldn't. So he said it again, "Say my name." She just stared and said nothing. He finally turned his head as if he couldn't bear to look at her. He just stared out the window. He looked so wounded so hurt that she wouldn't say his name.

She was afraid to say it. She wanted to. She wanted to look into his blue eyes and say, "Fitz, I want to say your name, I want to hold you, I want to kiss you, I want you!" But what good would it do to say anything when the road before them went nowhere. He continued to look out the window and she continued to stare at him. His head was full of curls, dark brown curls, his skin had the golden boy tan but it wasn't lined or ravished from the sun. It appeared to be perfect. He was perfect. He was 46 years old and he looked like a freaking god. Fifteen years between them but they were always in sync. These months on the campaign trail had been the most glorious in her life. She had eaten, drank, and breathed Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III and she had loved every minute of it!

"Fitz," she said just above a whisper. Did she just say my name he thought to himself unsure? Then she said it again. "Fitz." He turned from the window but stared straight ahead. And then he did something that altered the course of their lives. He extended his hand in the seat between them and just let it be. She looked down at it and entwined her own hand with his. They both were just looking at their joined hands when he turned and placed his other hand on her jaw. She turned into it, let her lips graze it. He sucked in his breath as though he had been hit. They stayed like that for the rest of the bus trip.

She must have fallen asleep, because he was gently rubbing her face, saying "Livvie wake up." No one had ever called her that. She looked at him and smiled. You could tell he wanted to kiss her and she probably would have let him, but he did not follow through. He was reluctant to let her hand go and she didn't want him to. But the fantasy was over. "Thank you Governor, it has been nice sitting with you." She got up and walked back to the front of the bus leaving it all behind her as if it were a dream.

She got her bags and fell in line with the rest of them. She considered avoiding him, but what was the point. She had sat with him for hours holding his hand, lying on his shoulder because she wanted to be there. She wanted him for herself, which was impossible. This entire mess was impossible. Olivia get a grip girl, he is not for you. Ok, let's pretend it never happened and just go. She walked up to he and Cyrus and said, "OK guys busy day tomorrow I'm calling it a night." They agreed so they got their keys and headed to their rooms. Their rooms are all in the same wing Cyrus had said. Governor Grant had said nothing by the way.

Cyrus says good night at his door and they walk on. She stops at her door, but she can't make herself open the door. She does not want to go into that room. He is behind her she can smell him. Her heart is racing. "Just go into your room, pretend this never happened, go to your room." He says. God she is torn. What she wants to do is so wrong. But for once in her life why can't she just take something for herself. She loves him, she realizes that now. Just one night for herself, just one night is that too much to ask? If I do this thing can I live with myself? Her desire for him at this point was all consuming. She had never wanted a man like this. She was a grown woman she knew what she wanted and tonight she was taking it. She turned and started the walk to his room. She knew she would lose her heart there.

She entered the foyer to some extent defeated. Her baser instincts, her love for this man, she could no longer fight them. She would be a fallen woman, but she was here and it felt right and good. He closed the door and watched her for a minute. He took her hand and kissed her palm. "I love you, you know," he said. She replied, "I know." She went into his arms where she felt she belonged and I kissed him like her life depended on it. If this was her only night she was going for it!