Author's Note:She lives! I took a little bit of a sabbatical to focus on updating and drafting for my other fandoms (yes, I still write things other than SCANDAL-ous things, just not as often…) but I'm back and ready for more D.D.s and to do good work on the WIPs. Inspiration has come from other busy bee Gladiators (and a solid opening date for Season -better be chock full of ALL the Olitz- 5: September 24th!) in the Tumblr/FFN/Twitter sections of the Arena for fic ideas and I'll be tackling those soon, along with more for the WIPS, especially The Thunderbolt. Enjoy the latest!

(CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #26-(Follow up to #1,3,5,8,14,16,&23, The Trail/First AU, Olitz, Fitz, Olivia, mentioned FTGIV and Karen, Cyrus, drunk!Mellie returns, mentioned Mew in turmoil and past Mellitz Zombie, family dynamics, step family dynamics, NSFW))

Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie: I'm not used to this. I'm used to having Muse Monster Energy Boosts from a fucked up Finale in the first month of hiatus but this summer, it's different. Good different,overdue different, but very, very different. Still, just because canon actually satisfied me in ways relevant to my interests does not mean that the SCANDAL-ous Muses are in deep freeze. There's still much to be done and knowing The Creator, we'll need all of the Olitz fics we can get our hands on soon enough.

Enjoy the latest and more for the WIPs will be up soon. Mad Love, Jam, and Power Drills, ~*CMW2/Trump*~

PS: All of the interconnected D.D.s are in the process of being posted on AO3, including this one. I'm over there as CMW2 and I made a Trumpetnista tag so you guys can find me. Head on over there for better convenience!

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

Excerpts from Draftbook Drabbles 1, 3, 5, 14, and 23…

"… you still know how to care. I don't. Not really…I guess that's reason #800 kabillion why me and Fitzy never really worked. I don't give a fuck and he gives too much of a fuck about everything and one…unless he's staring at your ass. Then, he's got no fucks to give…he really, really wants to fuck you, Liv. I think he wants it more than the White House and the divorce combined. Do…do you wanna fuck him? You can tell me. It's just us girls and it doesn't matter anymore. He can do whatever or whoever he wants, now. I signed the Papers."

"You did? Just like that?"

"Shocking, huh? You should've seen his eyes, Liv. He looked so…so relieved…'M surprised that he didn't tell you immediately. You're like Bosom Buddies…so do ya want him or not? It would be pretty great, if you didn't. I mean, why should I be the one hurting? Why should I be the only one all alone? Why should I be suffering while he's in that big White House?"

"He may not get anywhere near it, Mellie. His campaign's in serious trouble. It has been from the start and now, with the divorce…there's never been a single President elected to Office…"

"Between you and Cyrus, mostly you…he'll be fine. He'll be hunky-fuckin'-dory and Langston and Reston will be left in the dust. Man, you're really good at deflecting…"

"…if I can spin and Handle him getting divorced, I can certainly spin and Handle him being a single father and dating someone new, even if it is me. Will it be easy? No. Absolutely not. In the eyes of his Party, I am the wrong age, I am the wrong race, I am his subordinate, and I am nowhere near soft and pliable enough to be an acceptable First Lady in their eyes…"

"First Lady?", both men inquired in surprised stereo.

" Fitz, I am not about to put this Campaign, my heart and reputation, your heart and reputation, and most importantly, Karen and Gerry's already fragile emotions at risk for a fling. This is…look, bottom line, I want to be with Fitz. Fitz wants to be with me. Openly. We're going to be together and we're going to be great together or at least fail amicably…"

"…I want to make it very clear that it wasn't until after my divorce did I let her know just how I feel about her. I wanted…I did not want to cause the pain to Mellie, Karen and Gerry, or Olivia that my father's affairs caused to my mother and me growing up. I wanted to do it right. I did not want to make the scrutiny that Olivia will go through being attached to me worse by making her into a punch line, into a…into a mistress because she…she is beyond that. She is…everything…"

"…You…you…you just told the American People, the whole world that you love me. You defended me. You…you chose me…" she rasped in disbelief and in rapture.

Fitz nodded and used one of his thumbs to wipe her tears away.

"No one's ever chosen me before. Not like this…"

"…Look, obviously and unfortunately, Liv's not our bio-mom but she is our Mom in all of the ways that matter. She supports us. She listens to us. She'll be silly with us and she'll help Dad discipline us without being unfair about it. She keeps us out of trouble and out of the headlines. She remembers important things like what we're allergic to, when our schoolwork's due, and what kind of music we like. She actually loves Dad for Dad himself, not for the Politics and she actually cares about me and Quatro, which other women in her position likely wouldn't. Other women would hate us on G.P. or do the bare minimum with us to keep Dad happy. Liv isn't like that. She gives a fuck about us. She gives a whole winery of barrels of fucks about us. The woman who carried us and pushed us out doesn't give a fraction of a fuck about us and Dad like Liv does. The Incubator never loved us or Dad unconditionally. She only pretended to in the name of the almighty Optics and for the sake of her own personal political power plays."

"And Millicent didn't put that much effort in pretending…Olivia Pope is our mother, Cyrus and we love her dearly, just as much as we love Dad, if not a little bit more. It's really not that shocking, all things considering…"


July 2008… A Day in the Life of Olitz.

Morning

Her eyes snapped open and met blazing cobalt blue.

The edges of those loving eyes crinkled in a smile and she gasped at the firmer strokes of his tongue.

Fitz Grant III's hands went to the juncture of where her spread legs met her torso and pinned them down, holding her wide open for him. Olivia Pope whimpered with delight, arching as best she could as he continued to lick and lap happily at her pulsing sex. The dream she had been having had been similar to her current reality. The only difference was that in the dream, the two of them had been on a private beach, far away from America and the crazy fishbowl they now lived in. The fact that she now had a man who she adored and two children that she would lay down her life for twice made the crazy fishbowl worth it but still, as soon as his Presidential time was over, she was taking him and going off the grid for at least 2 months. Puerto Rico, Jamaica, Fiji, Cape Town, she had been hearing good things about the islands near Zanzibar…

She grabbed his pillow just in time to muffle a jagged scream. Grabbing a pillow was an ingrained habit that he was determined to break her of. She was still used to being in rooms with neighbors very close by but now things were different. Not only were they living in the White House together (much to the disdain of the conservatives ala Sally Langston), there was enough space for them to be as loud as they pleased with their activities.

The broad shoulders wedged between her splayed lower half began to shake as he nurtured her growing climax and she had a distinct feeling that her Fitzgerald was laughing at her.

Moving the pillow aside, she looked down and sure enough, he was chortling and the laughter only increased as she glowered at him. Well, excuse her for trying to hold onto a little bit of propriety between them…

Olivia made a note to wallop him for his insolence later, much later.

She hissed as his fingers slid into her pulsing cavity and curled right against her Spot. Her ire fell away and she buried her right hand in his hair, pressing him even closer, groaning in release. Fitz stroked and drank of her well until she went completely boneless beneath him, unable to articulate anything other soft coos of his name.

He ascended her body slowly, kissing and nuzzling against her possessively. Fitz's erection went between her knees and she ground needily against it, feeling a second wind. Seizing that second wind with both hands, Olivia leveraged herself forward until he was on his back. His face was a study of passion and of devotion, especially as her palms went to his chest. He was so firm and so delightfully hairy, a still welcome change of pace from her former lovers. The others weren't ugly, per se but Fitz took good care of himself all over. Plus, the way he just loved her, flaws and all, with everything he was…

"Livvie…" he groaned softly, shivering as her suckling kisses ascended his inner thighs.

"It's my turn, now…stay where I put you, baby…"

"Yes.", he huffed, both in submission to her command and the feel of her tongue slowly circling the head of him.

Mirroring his earlier actions, Olivia used her hands to pin him in place and set about her task happily. She loved to taste him. She loved to feel him shiver and to feel his gentle fingertips on her scalp. She loved to feel him buck and squirm underneath her in growing rapture. She loved the way he moaned, the way he hissed, the way he groaned and growled for her, the way he always came so hard for her…

Using her hair, Fitz gently but firmly moved her mouth away from him and smiled at the indignant purse of her lips.

"I wasn't done with you, yet." she rasped scoldingly.

When he laughed at her again, Olivia nipped none too gently at his left inner thigh in retaliation and she gasped as her back made rough contact with the mattress. Briefly, she squirmed underneath him, trying to get back to the ascendant position but a toe curling, soul warming kiss ended her resistance quickly…

"Olivia, you know full and damned well by now that if I want to move, there's not much you can do to stop me unless I'm restrained."

"True… and just for that, I'm definitely tying your wrists to the headboard next time."

"I look forward to it."

"You should..."

/

Afternoon

"You and Fitz really want to stick it to her, don't you?"

"Who?"

"Mellie. First, you two become the Political and Social Powerhouse of #Olitz while she's still known as the Cuckolding Jezebel. Then, you two very pointedly have not gotten married and are blissful in the White House while she's having public battle royales with Nichols over wedding cake samples, who I will bet my best bottles of wine is already cheating on her by the way, and now you want to legally adopt her kids."

"How did you…"

"Karen and Gerry posted ecstatic Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr posts about your move last night, which have all gone very viral with an 80/20 split of good and bad commentary on it, 80 belonging to the good. #StepMommaPope is trending along with mocking companion hashtags aptly entitled #PoorMellie and #MellieTheIncubator. James is keeping me in the Loop about it all and I'm probably going to put Jeannine and Ethan on full time Social Media duty by the end of the work week so I don't end up drowning in notifications."

"That's a good idea. I should've told them to keep it to themselves until the papers go through but I understand where they're coming from. Cyrus, Karen and Gerry are not Mellie's kids. They're Fitz's kids and my kids, not hers. Yes, she is their biological mother but parenthood is about more than passing DNA. It's about active participation and about showing genuine, non self serving love at all times. Mellie didn't do that for them, even before I came along and it's highly unlikely that she'll start now. Even if she wanted to start now, K.G. and Quatro have been burned so many times by her in the past that they would just shut her down. They don't trust her. As for sticking it to her, that is junior high behavior and while I can't speak for Fitz or the kids, I know that I am too grown and honestly, too lazy to be bothered with taking the extra time to poke that bear. Not without her provoking me first, anyway."

"Well, you better keep an eye out for that provocation because she's definitely poked and very pissed off. She called me an hour after the posts debuted and she was a delightful mix of drunken singing, ranting, and bawling at the sheer injustice of it all."

"I hope you reminded her that the situation she's in is entirely her own fault."

"No, I just hung up on her and turned my phone off. She'll probably be jonesing for a fight, tonight, though. My, what a big basket you have there, Little Red Step Momma Pope."

"All the better to cave your thick skull in with, Grumpy Gay Dragon Slayer. Fitz and I have a lunch date."

"Please keep all of your clothes on or at least keep all intimate parts out of sight. The last thing we need is a rogue camera getting footage of you two canoodling…again."

After shooting her still smirking friend/mentor/ever present migraine a scathing look, Olivia picked up the full picnic basket and exited the kitchen, seeking out her Fitzgerald. White House Chef Jose Mendez Rivera had packed the basket the night before and Olivia couldn't help but smile at the origami orchid he had left taped to the basket's handle. The 75 years young man never failed to let her know that she reminded him of his beloved Carmen, his lively wife of 50 years. She was petite yet undeniably fierce, her mind as sharp as her beauty was deep. Carmen was the Head Groundskeeper for 1600 Penn and the couple had adopted all 3 Grants plus her as family. One could never have too much family, they always told her…

Olivia had long equated family with vulnerability and pain. Her mother Maya had perished in a plane crash when she was 12 and her father Eli, Rowan, whatever the hell he wanted to call himself was far from father of the year. A Chia Pet was in better hands with the bastard than a child. Materially, he had provided for her and provided well but emotionally…it made sense. Her father was the big bad wolf in the forest, the thing that goes bump in the night, the monster in the closet. What could someone like that really know about love? What could someone like that really know about care? What could someone like that really know about nurturing?

One couldn't become and remain the Grand Master of the Dark Ops realm without losing massive portions of their humanity.

It just wasn't possible.

It was a wonder that Olivia was as stable as she was and that her unstable parts weren't of serial killer proportions. Those couldn't be coped with and soothed by love. Perfectionism, fear of joy, fear of failure, and fear of loss were formidable demons but not insurmountable if one could find the right balance of perspective and the right positive influences, the latter for her being 3 loving Grants. She had Abby, Stephen, Harrison and Huck before and she adored them but until her Grants came along, she didn't feel like she had a real family, a real place that she truly belonged.

Family still automatically meant vulnerability to her but pain? No. As long as Eli/Rowan kept his distance (and who knew how much longer said distance would last, given that she was now the high profile live in lover of a WASP RINO POTUS!) and as long as she had her Grants, she would be okay. No, not just okay. She would be happy. She deserved to be happy

Olivia yelped as she collided with a large male body and was immediately steadied by familiar hands. The familiar hands were warm against her bare triceps and absently, she used her free hand to adjust the slightly askew flag pin on his lapel. Dwight Eisenhower had worn it during his Time and it only had 48 stars. One of her antiquities contacts had found it via an estate sale out of Vermont and it had become the second most perfect gift to celebrate her man being Inaugurated.

The first most perfect gift had been given to him after their heated tryst on the Resolute Desk. After entering their living space, Olivia had changed from her dress to a snow white sheer and lace confection, complete with 50 tiny pearl buttons for all 50 states.

He had only made it through 20 before literally ripping the gift to at least 50 shreds.

Inauguration Day had been excellent but it was nothing compared to the night.

"Hi."

"Hi. I was just on my way to see you. Are we still on for lunch?"

"We are. Come here."

Fitz's hand immediately went to the small of her back as they walked. Olivia tucked herself into his side, noting and promptly disregarding the disapproving looks of some the more traditional staff members. As Cyrus had mentioned before, it had been a little bit over 6 months since they had moved into 1600 Penn and there hadn't been a wedding or civil service. Not to mention the fact that there was a huge disparity between the amount of melanin she had in her skin and the amount that their boss had in his. Despite it being well into the 21st century, along with the overwhelming proof that Fitz loved her and was a far better man, father, and politician with her in his life, all they could see was an unmarried rich white man with a brilliant black girlfriend throwing aside all sorts of traditions. Some Conservatives were militantly murmuring about the situation but as Leo Bergen had pointed out doing a recent Morning Joe talk panel, just because people were married didn't mean they were committed or guaranteed to be faithful within the relationship. After all, Fitz and Mellie had been married for over 10 years with 2 kids and look what happened there

Entering the small private office adjacent to the Oval, they immediately settled onto the carpeted floor. As Olivia rummaged through the basket, her lips curved upward in a smile as Fitz slid her black wedges off and started rubbing her feet. He frequently commented on how he was amazed that she could function in 5-7 inch heels nearly all of the time and he fussed every time he saw the tell tale red marks or swollen arches that accompanied them. If it were up to him, she'd be in flats, tennis shoes, or just barefoot all of the time.

The baguette was sliced into Texas toast thick pieces and there were an assortment of sandwich components in various Tupperware containers, ranging from hand sliced turkey and provolone to fresh broccoli sprouts. She passed him a large vanilla Greek yogurt and strawberry parfait and a thermos full of chicken soup, along with utensils. Fitz used the bottle opener on the sparkling lemon mineral water that they both preferred before putting together sandwiches for both of them. As usual, he didn't start eating until she did and their silence was warm, companionable, completely natural…

"Mellie called me last night. I didn't answer but my voicemail is full."

"She also called Cyrus. He hung up on her."

"She'll be here tonight with Andrew. She's upset that you want to adopt the kids. She's also upset that they're happy about it and she's known by the two of them and everyone in the world as The Incubator."

"I know. I'll Handle all of it. Don't worry about it."

"You shouldn't have to Handle Mellie being Mellie. She's just…I've got a lot of baggage, Liv. Aggravating baggage."

"Fitz, I knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with you and chose not to run away from it. You're a WASP high profile politician with awesome teenage children and an ex-wife with a tendency to start drama before playing the martyr when it all blows up in her face. Dealing with Mellie being Mellie is a minor inconvenience but you, Quatro, and K.G. are worth it."

"If she puts her fucking hands on you, I'm deporting her."

"You can't do that, Fitzgerald!"

"I can't?"

"No."

"What's the point of being POTUS if I can't send the people who annoy me into exile?"

"Well, allegedly you get to serve and represent the People. That's fun."

"Eh…"

"Okay, not so much but you have to admit that although your job sucks overall, there are perks."

/

Evening

"Well, well, if it isn't the woman of the hour, now…lemme guess, you're here to gloat?"

"No."

"Why the hell not? You've got the man, the kids, and this big beautiful White House…I told ya that he'd get elected without me! You were so terrified and sad that he wouldn't but he did and it's all your doing. Cyrus may talk a big game about holding it all together but everyone with even a quarter of a working brain knows that President Fitzgerald Grant III is absolutely nothing without the Great Formidable Olivia Pope by his side…"

"If that were true, then he wouldn't have been a very good Governor or father before I came along or a functioning person in general. Fitz and I are 15 years apart and…"

"Christ, if you're not deflecting like a champ, you're being literal as hell! That's not what I meant and you know it, 'Livia…oh, that sucks…"

That being the large flask Mellie had brought running dry of her homemade alcohol. Olivia could smell the telltale nose hair shriveling fumes from the opening and on Mellie's breath. Gently, Olivia removed the silver sterling flask from the brunette's hand and placed it on the red carpeted stair above them. A flash of annoyance went through the other woman's periwinkle eyes before she visibly deflated, using her left fist to support her nodding head. Mellie looked like a dejected version of Cinderella after the ball. Her maroon traditional cap sleeved ball gown was rumpled and her large stiff updo had unraveled and was more like a hairspray and finger tousled mane now. Her mascara had run and more tears swam in her eyes, waiting for the perfect moment to fall. Her now gloveless fingers fidgeted with a white pearl necklace and the massive diamond ring Andrew Nichols had given her on Inauguration Day.

In contrast, Olivia sat across from her in an aubergine sleeveless gown with no gloves. Even with her knees tucked underneath her, her posture was immaculate but relaxed. She had done her hair in soft waterfall curls and left it down so it touched her bare shoulders. Other than her lipstick being darkened by wine (and slightly smeared from the kiss Fitz gave her on the dance floor), her makeup was still flawless. The asymmetrical hemmed gown had a floor length train and it hugged her curves before a daring middle split showed a prime view of her long, strong legs. Like Mellie, she was currently barefoot and the only jewelry she wore was…

"That's his great grandmomma's ring you've got on, y'know. Doux Bebe…Sweet Baby in French. 'M real surprised that it's not on your ring finger. Why'd you put it on your index?"

"It felt right."

"Huh. I found it while we were gettin' ready to move to the governor's mansion. Fitzgerald practically took my fuckin' head off when I suggested that I wear it. Of course, he tried to cover his ass later on, sayin' that he wanted me to have my own pieces but I figured out the story behind it. His great-grandmother's father bought it at an auction in Paris and she wore it at her debutante ball. It's been passed down through the generations and he was supposed to give it to his wife or to the woman he truly loved. Guess that means it's in the right place now, huh? You may not be his wife but he definitely loves you. It's written all over his pretty little face…"

"Mellie…"

"Don't bother feelin' bad for me or tryin' to explain it away. I might be a punch line and a used up tramp but I'm not stupid or blind. I knew what time it was as soon as you came on the Bus. I watched as he fell for you like a piss drunk frat boy at Mardi Gras in about 3 days. He looked at you like you were his salvation. He gave you his real smile and his real laugh. He listened to you and you listened to him. See, that's where me and Big Jerry and all sorts of other people fucked up with Fitzgerald. None of us really listened to him but you…every time he said something, you looked right at him and you would easily tell Cyrus and the others to shut up so he could get his words out. I remember the look on his face the first time you did it and I knew he was gone. I wasn't sure about you 'til later on but I knew. I knew that he liked you and it didn't take long to see that he loved…loves you. I was kinda expectin' him to just walk up and kiss you in front of everybody but he's too fuckin' decent to do that. He had no problem in fallin' in love with someone else but...he hates me, doesn't he? Fitz hates me…"

"No, he doesn't. You definitely get on his nerves sometimes but he doesn't hate you."

"Well, Karen and Gerry do. They fuckin' despise me. They call me The Incubator. Karen does, anyways. Gerry calls me Millicent or Mother and he's got a way of doin' it that just lets me know that I'm as valuable to him as a 3 dollar bill. And the worst part is that I really can't blame anyone but me for it all. I had a husband and kids that jus' wanted me to fuckin' love them and I couldn't. Andy jus' wants me to fuckin' love him but I can't…I'm just too broken. I saw red lipstick on his collar while I was puttin' together the dry cleaning last week. He said that he cut himself shavin' but I know better…I always know better. One bastard endures me and the next one is balls deep in another woman, already."

"Leave him, then."

"Oh, yeahthat'll go over well!The Media would tear me apart! I'm so sick of 'em tearing me apart…"

"Mellie, despite all of the hell you've raised over the years, you deserve to be happy. Andrew isn't making you happy anymore and he's cheating on you. Leave him. Let him have whoever it is…"

"It's probably that stupid Lizzie North bitch. She's been sniffin' around like a stray cat, tryin' to get him to join her little Party causes"

"…and you should find someone who will actually love you and respect you. The Media will definitely tear you apart because they don't like you but it'll be ten times worse if he gets caught with his pants down after you're married. At least if you leave him now, they'll put him on blast when he goes public with his new girlfriend right after you leave him. People aren't nearly as stupid as we think they are, sometimes."

"That's all well and good but then what am I supposed to do? I can't go into politics and I'm not…I don't like bein' alone. At least if I'm miserable with a man, I'm not alone…"

"Being alone isn't nearly as terrible as people make it out to be. You don't have to answer to anyone and you've got plenty of options outside of politics, Mellie. You were top of your class at Harvard, weren't you? You don't need to wrap your whole life around being with a man to get where you want to go. Now, other than politics, what's something that you've always wanted to do but couldn't because it wasn't "suitable"?"

"…my momma taught me how to make candles and bath scrubs and other stuff like that. I used to make them all the time back home but I had to stop after a while. It…it's a nice hobby but I don't think I can make a career out of it."

"This is the age of Etsy and blogging. If you've got good products and a solid sales pitch, you'll be able to thrive. You've got the time, the skills, and the money. Why not try it out? You don't have anything to lose. Not really…"

"Y'know…things would be a lot easier if you'd just be a bitch to me like a normal person."

"I'm not normal and I don't let the claws come out against someone unless they provoke me."

"…I don't get you, Olivia. I respect you but I don't get you at all."

Olivia couldn't help but laugh at that and Mellie smiled wanly before rising up on wobbly knees, stuffing her empty flask in her black clutch.

"I think it would be best if I left now. 'M drunk as hell and if I stick around here, I'll end up going back in there and puking on somebody. When I puke on someone, it's gonna be on that…that man when he tries to wake me up for sex later! G'night, Olivia. Thanks for not gloating."

"Thanks for not making a scene. This dress is too nice to be ruined by anything other than Fitz in heat."

With a strangled cackle, Mellie carefully descended the stairs and headed for the main exit, followed by two Secret Service Agents. They would ensure that she would leave the grounds quietly and safely…

"You can come out now, Fitz."

Although his face was sheepish as he descended the stairs, his body language was completely unrepentant about his eavesdropping. Olivia wasn't upset about the eavesdropping. If the situation was reversed, then she would've done the same thing. Mellie was unpredictable on a good day and the days had not been good for the woman since…well, since Olivia dug up her dirty little secrets. She had exposed Mellie's affairs to the entire world in order to remove a major obstacle to Fitz's campaign (and for her and Fitz to be happy together) and the ripple effects were still going strong. They would never stop.

Olivia stood up to meet him and accepted another kiss from him, this one deeper and harder from the one on the dance floor. His hand covered the small of her back fully and his left hand cupped the back of her head. Rising up on her tiptoes, Olivia held onto his shoulders and looked up at him tenderly.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"Actually, I do. Do you think she'll take my advice?"

"Probably. I want her to be happy. She'll be much less trouble if she's happy."

Olivia rolled at her eyes at the completely accurate statement and her reply was lost in a jaw cracking yawn. Checking a nearby clock, she saw that it was a quarter to midnight and she had been up since 5 that Friday morning. It made sense for her to be tired. It had been a long day and now, all she wanted was her bed and her man's arms around her.

Matter of factly, Fitz picked her up and started walking towards the residential area, Hal and Daniel falling into step with them.

"I can walk, you know."

"I know. You look beautiful."

"You told me that earlier."

"It bears repeating. You're always beautiful, Livvie."