Olivia sits tied up to a chair. She is still wearing her black tank top and pajama bottoms, and a white cloth covers her mouth. She flutters her eyes open and is blinded by the sun seeping through the large glass door to her right. She scans the beautifully decorated, spacious room, bewilderment fills her eyes as she tries to recall the last moments of last night. She remembers removing her shawl, placing her wine glass on the side table by the couch, being assailed by the smell of chloroform, and finally darkness.
However, at this moment, though her screams are muffled by the cloth covering her mouth, her screams are loud enough to be heard... A tall, menacing looking man carrying a glass of wine enters the room. By all appearances this man could be Kubiak's twin!
The menacing looking man sneers at her with the nastiest of grins saying, "I wouldn't waste my breath Miss Pope." His accent is thick Southern.
Olivia, defiantly, continues to wiggle and fidget, and stare the menacing man dead-on. With exasperation, the man strides over to where she is and harshly removes the cloth from her mouth, letting it dangle around her neck.
"What?!" He asks
"WHERE IS HE?! YOU TELL HIM TO COME LOOK ME IN THE EYE, RIGHT NOW!" Olivia replies.
The man, thrown off by her comments, retorts, "There's no one here but you and me, sweetheart."
"LIAR! WHERE IS MY FATHER... HE SENT YOU... BRING HIM TO ME!"
"Listen lady, I don't know who your Daddy is or why he'd have sent someone like me for you. Now, shut up and drink this!" He shoves the glass of wine to her mouth and forces her to drink. Olivia spits the wine in his face. Infuriated, the menacing man violently grabs and squishes her chin with his rough hand. "I am under strict orders not to hurt you Miss Pope, but HONEY, if you continue to test me... AND that's really expensive wine you ungrateful little..."
"Do you know who I am? The people behind me? What do you want? Money? Fame? I can get you whatever you want... just let me go."
"Ohhhhh, Miss Pope, this goes so far beyond me. I'm just a pawn darlin'. Power is the devil Miss Pope, it makes you do things. Things you never imagined. No ma'am, I'm doin' this for my country... I'm just a pawn. 'Keep her there until HE makes a choice.' Those are my orders."
Tears begin to roll down Olivia's face. As the torrent of pictures flash through her mind... The wine stain on the floor... "My Country." ...West Angola... "HE." ...the truth dawns on her, the room begins to spin and her stomach begins to knot as though her insides are being shredded to bits.
"You are SICK! You'll never get away with this. HE won't let you. A WAR? FOR NOTHING? WHAT KIND OF PATRIOT ARE YOU?"
"Lady, I am not here to listen to your moral mumbo jumbo. Instead of worrying about me, you should really be more concerned about your President. Is he a patriot or is he a bitch for Olivia Pope? You and I both know how this is going to work."
"You think you know everything... YOU KNOW NOTH..."
He has had enough. Before she can finish her sentence he covers her mouth again. "SHUUUUUT UP!"
She fidgets and muffles for another minute or two but to no avail. Defeated, she hangs her head as more tears roll down her pitiable face.
/
Six years ago. Oklahoma. Night before Governor Grant's acceptance speech- primaries. Hotel room, needs no number.
Tears rolling down Olivia's joyous face.
"She said yes?" Olivia clasps her hands over her mouth as Fitz puts the phone receiver back in its cradle. He marches to where she is standing, picks her up in one swift motion and begins to plant kisses all over her face.
"She said, yes! Sally Langston is going to be my running mate. Lord help us!" He says, jokingly.
Olivia can't help but laugh at the irony of his comment.
"She'll help us win the big scary states, as Cyrus likes to say. ...And women! Women won't vote for Reston."
"mmmh... The only woman whose vote I am interested in is yours, Miss Pope. This was all you."
He peers into her big browns with his baby blues and Olivia's heart jolts; her soul is wide awake, dancing in the loving eyes inches away from hers. The corners of his mouth turn up. He gently wipes the tears from her eyes with his thumbs. Their noses touch and for a few moments they close their eyes and just breathe, their hearts beating to the same drum. Olivia slides her hands behind his head and lifts her mouth to him. Not quite ready to break the serenity, he grazes her mouth with his and opens his eyes to look at her. He is pleasantly surprised to find her looking at him too. They finally kiss. With their eyes open. Relishing in each and every taste, each and every sound, each and every sight.
"It was you," Olivia mumbles between kisses. "I believe in you... I'm a fixer but I can't give someone heart... That's all you..."
They continue to kiss as he drives her towards the bed. She hungrily unbuttons his shirt as he slides his hands underneath her. On the bed now shirtless, Fitz lies on top of his nearly topless Livvie. He brushes back the fringe of bangs and kisses her forehead.
"I'm running for President now."
"I know."
"I'm still married."
"I know."
"I don't want to lose you."
"You won't."
"How should we..."
"Kiss me."
"What?"
"Kiss me, Fitz. I don't wanna talk or think or... it's you and me... right now, that's what we have... that's all that matters. So, KISS ME."
"O'kay."
With pleasure, he kisses her. ON THE MOUTH, to start. He works his way down and kisses the rest of her. WITH HIS TONGUE. There is no talking. There is no thinking. Just Fitz and Olivia, breathing.
/
Today. Oval Office. He stands looking out the window (a.k.a, Hope), looking out into God knows where today. Usually it's Vermont, but today it may be Oklahoma, hotel room that needs no number.
He looks down at the picture in his hands. A picture of Olivia taken while on the trail during the first campaign, in her Grant for President t-shirt, her bangs -with a strand out of place that he so desperately wants to slide into place-, her fitted jeans and a smile from ear to ear. She looks so beautiful. So young. So innocent. He clenches his jaw in anger.
"Mr. President, Sir, we need to talk about what we are doing about this West Angola situation."
"Cyrus, there is nothing to talk about. We have to go to war. We're going to the situation room to discuss military options."
"Sir... WE CANNOT... WE CAN NOT... Sir... please... look at me."
Fitz slowly turns around, distress written all over his face, he tearfully pleads,
"What do you want me to do Cy? My own party! They have her. They have my girl... OUR girl. Our 'guys' searched all last night. Nothing. They hold all the cards. I couldn't live with myself if... either way... I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror. It's Liv, Cyrus. It's Olivia. I have no choice. We are going to war with West Angola. We have to."
Cyrus stares at him with both pity and desperation. The look exchanged between them is priceless. Cyrus looks at Fitz as if he is asking the President of the United States of America if he has gone mad; Fitz lifts an eyebrow in defiance, that he has indeed gone mad.
/
Huck nervously knocks on Kim's door.
"Hola."
"Hola. Thank you for letting me see him before school."
"Come in. I'm still not sure how to handle all this. If I even believe it."
"I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I need to see my son. He needs his father. I need him to know who I am, Kim. Please, I..."
"It's o'kay, ...Huck?... That's what it says in those files..."
Wide-eyed, Huck nods.
"That's who they made me. I wanted to quit when Javi was born. They took me. They put me in a hole. I was homeless. I owe Olivia, my boss, my life."
"The same boss who has you on heists with your kid and killing people?"
"No, you don't understand... It's complicated... Who I am, what I do... We're the good guys. I'm the good guy now..."
Kim moves in to pat his shoulder but Huck abruptly moves away. Upon seeing the pain in his eyes she changes the subject.
"Javi is upstairs getting ready. He's still traumatized. I just want to be clear that the only reason I'm allowing this is for Javi, and the hope that the man I married is in there somewhere. I don't even know who I married. If you hurt him..."
Javi interrupts her rant. He looks petrified.
"Mom, what is her doing here?"
"It's alright, corazon, come here."
"Hello, Javi."
/
Huck enters OPA with the goofiest grin on his face.
"Huck, there you are, FINALLY! You're never late. What's going on?" Quinn asked.
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing. You look happy. It's weird."
"Weird is good."
Quinn smirks and shakes her head at his comment.
"Where's Olivia?" Huck asks.
"I don't know. Also strange. She wanted us to work on getting Catherine exonerated."
"How? We're not lawyers."
"Hey..., I went to law school."
"Doesn't make you a lawyer."
"Huck... who are you right now? Witty too? Anyway, Catherine has a lawyer, a really good one. We need to build evidence."
In that moment, Jake barges into OPA like a chicken without a head. He obnoxiously inquires, "Have you heard from Olivia?"
"No. Why?" Huck asks.
"Did you call the President?" Quinn inquired. Both men throw her a look. "What? We all know what's up."
"No, she's gone. She was with me one second and the next she was gone."
"Jake, you're not making any sense," Quinn stated. "Just calm down and tell us what happened."
"I don't have time. I looked for her... all night. Someone took her. Find out what you can. I need to go. It's a matter of life or death."
Jake leaves in the same manner in which he entered. Huck and Quinn just stand there flabbergasted, watching the elevator doors close on the feverish maniac who just told them their boss was gone.
"What does he mean, gone?" Quinn demanded.