SR is the grand and brilliant mistress who gave us the characters. I'm just putting them into a sandbox and playing with them for a bit with a few of my own. I take no credit for the cannon characters.
Chapter 1 - You Can't Always Get What You Want
"Olivia Carolyn Pope!"
At the sound of the booming voice and use of her full name, Olivia removed her earbuds and rolled off of her bed. She would've rolled her eyes any other time. "Coming, Dad." She padded through the hallway and made her way down to the first-floor office her father used most days. She knocked once before stepping inside. "Yes, Dad?"
The man behind the desk turned towards her, hung up the phone, and dissected her with his gaze. She was used to it and took a deep breath to keep from squirming. He was intimidating to people who didn't know him. To Olivia, he was just "Dad."
"Something you want to tell me, Olivia?"
Olivia quickly scrolled through her mental catalogue of things he might be referring to. There were so many to choose from, so she wisely stayed silent. "Nope."
"The school called, again, Olivia." He sat quietly for a moment, but she wasn't going to speak yet. Not until she knew what she needed to defend. "Well? When were you going to tell me about the nomination for National Honor Society?"
Olivia plastered a smile on her face. Bullet dodged. "At dinner. I thought I'd share the news with you and Mom then."
Eli nodded. "Well, then I'll let you tell your mother at dinner. We'll celebrate tonight. You know how important things like this are, Olivia. They'll make the difference in your future."
"Of course, Dad. I'm excited to be nominated." Olivia felt her patience slipping. "May I be excused until dinner?" She saw his brow rise, "Homework," she added quickly. "I have a big paper due next week…"
"That's my girl. The big regional debate is coming up too. We need to focus on that. We'll work on it after dinner." He motioned to the door.
"Yes, Dad." She slipped out of the room and back up to her bedroom. She wasn't about to correct him. No way was she going to tell Eli Pope that she didn't want to go to the regional debate - that she wanted to quit debate all together. No, she'd talked to her advisor today and would talk to the coach tomorrow. When it was done, she'd tell him. She'd have to.
Before the regional debate.
In less than two months she'd graduate. Two months after that she'd be off to college. It was time to take a stand.
"Fitzgerald." His father sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Why must I keep getting these calls?" Fitz stared through the man in front of him, saying nothing. It was a familiar routine. "Do I not pay enough for your education? I have to get called by the Dean to say you've failing your econ class, again?" His voice rose and Fitz kept up his statue impersonation. "You've got to get your head on, son. The women, the parties, the alcohol…" Fitz snorted. His father was going to lecture him about drinking? Priceless. "You're a damned Grant!" His fist came down on the mahogany desk. "You do not act like this."
"You mean I don't act like you? Isn't that exactly what I'm supposed to do? You are my father, my role model, after all."
"Don't you dare get smart with me, Fitzgerald. I've tolerated this for your mother's sake, but this is the last straw." His father leaned a little across the desk. "This is the plan, and you will follow it. As of right now, we're going find you a suitable woman. One that, in a year, you'll propose to. The wedding will be six months after that. The subsequent months you'll be seen with her at high-profile dinners within the party. Nine months after tha-"
"Oh for the love of… You are NOT going to schedule when I do or don't have children, Jerry." Fitz dropped into the soft leather love seat.
"I'll do whatever I damned well think I need to. Your image is a disaster. You need to settle down. You need a wife. The party will forgive some youthful indiscretions when, as I was going to say, we form an exploratory committee - IF you have a good woman as a wife. Someone the party can point to and call your savior."
"Let me be clear, Jerry." Fitz stood and stared daggers at his father. "I am not, nor will I ever be interested in running for governor of this fine, fine state. Nor will I run for president. You will not be choosing the next Mrs. Fitzgerald Grant unless you leave Mom and decide to marry a newer, younger model, but I don't suggest it. I hear The Party frowns on divorce, even if it's to one of your barely legal indiscretions." He stormed out as his father bellowed after him, more than done listening to the same song he'd heard for years.
He strode toward the kitchen, more than ready for breakfast or, he reconsidered as he looked at his watch, lunch he supposed. His head snapped up as he heard voices and then a soft, silky laugh coming from his destination. He stood at the threshold for a moment, taking in the scene. His mother, sitting at the breakfast nook with two women.
"Honestly, Olivia, you were brilliant in that debate. We were all so proud of you." His mother's praise was always generous. Fitz had no idea what she was doing married to Jerry. He'd never known two more polar opposite people in his life.
"Thank you Mrs. Grant, but I was just lucky. The topic was something I'm passionate about." The voice he'd heard answered.
"Lucky? Oh no, dear, you've got real talent. I've seen more than my share of debates over the last thirty years and You. Are. Talented. Very skilled. The way you turned the argument back on that young man? I don't think most lawyers could manage it as fluidly as you did. He had no idea what happened. He was even backing your position by the end."
"Well, it was easy, honestly. I happen to agree with the decision of the Supreme Court on that case. I think it was a ridiculous law and should've never been enacted."
The older woman with her laughed. "Don't you dare let your father hear you say that, Livia."
"I don't care what his political beliefs are, Mom. You know I am apolitical and make up my own mind."
"Livia." The woman, apparently her mother, chastised in a tone Fitz was familiar with - part loving, part bemused. "You're not home. It's not appropriate to talk abo-"
"Oh Maya, leave the girl alone." His own mother laughed. "It's good for my husband to have someone like her around. You two should visit more often."
"Now, Karen, you see me every week. We can't expect these youngsters to join us as often. Besides, Livia will be heading to school in a few weeks."
"Oh? Where are you going, dear? Will you be staying in state?"
"No ma'am. I was accepted to Berkley,"
"Among other places. She had a pile of acceptance letters." The woman's pride was evident. Fitz was even more intrigued now about the women sitting in the kitchen with his mother.
"Yes, Mom, I did, but we always knew I had four schools on my short list."
"Let me guess," his mother said cheerily, "Berkley, Columbia, Yale…"
"Yes, all of those were on the list, Mrs. Grant. But in the end, I decided on-"
Fitz stepped forward. "Harvard. You'd have picked Harvard." He finally got to see the face that belonged to the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
Shock flashed across her face before she quickly schooled it and applied a smile he was sure was practiced. "Yes, I picked Harvard." Her eyes stayed locked onto him.
"Because they have the best debate team and the most diversity - for an ivy league." He felt the corners of his mouth tip up.
"That, in part, yes." Her voice was not as confident as it had been. Her eyes were round, molten milk chocolate brown. She wore no makeup and, though he'd always thought women needed it, she didn't. She had a natural glow to her.
"Tripp. There you are! This is perfect timing." Karen Grant got up and took his hand, guiding him to the table. "Olivia, my son, Fitzgerald, also goes to Harvard. Isn't that wonderful? You'll have someone on campus from home when you get there."
Fitz leaned in and kissed his mother's cheek. "Mom, I'm sure Olivia doesn't need…"
"Nonsense, Tripp. It's always good to have a friend your first year at a new school. You can show her around and help her get settled in."
"Oh, well, thank you, Mrs. Grant," her gaze still glued to him and her scrutiny was slightly unnerving. "But, my best friend is also going to Harvard. We're going to be sharing a room."
"You know her, Karen, Abigail. Abigail Wheelen. Rick and Vanessa's girl." Her mother smiled at him. "Fitzgerald, it's so good to see you again. How was your semester? Second year completed, right?"
He nodded and managed to focus on the woman speaking to him. "Yes ma'am. It was just fine."
"Fitz is on the debate team at Harvard too. Political science major, of course." His mother chuckled. "Tripp, you remember Maya Pope? From the fundraiser in December you attended with me at the club?"
"Of course. It's good to see you again too, Mrs. Pope." He smiled at her. "I come in here to make a sandwich and I find three of the most beautiful women."
Maya chuckled. "You, are a dangerous young man, Fitzgerald Grant. Absolutely dangerous."
Fitz shook his head. "No ma'am. My middle name is 'safe.'" His mother coughed and Olivia almost smiled. "Can I get you ladies anything while I'm up? Fresh tea, Mom? Maya? Olivia?"
"Why don't you take Olivia out to the stables and show her around, Tripp? I'm afraid I didn't get to give her the tour yet."
He nodded, his appetite for food forgotten. "I'd be happy to." He held out a hand. "I can get to know Harvard's newest apolitical dynamite." He watched color tinge her cheeks.
Maya nudged her daughter. "Livia, go on and get some fresh air."
"Yes, Mom." She leaned over and kissed her mother's cheek and then, as she stood, she stopped at his mother, bent down and kissed her as well. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Grant. I always enjoy our talks."
"Oh, dear, you're good for us old women. Keep us young." She patted Olivia's cheek. "Go on now, go enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Tripp, Maya and Olivia will be doing dinner with us at the club this evening." The implication that he should plan on attending wasn't lost on him.
"The club will never have been so beautifully decorated." He'd have to cancel his date with Lydia, but he didn't mind, really. He had no doubt Olivia's company would be far more entertaining than his typical night with Lydia. After only three weeks, the blonde was turning out to be far more boring than he'd originally hoped. "Come on Olivia. Do you ride?" He walked with her and held the sliding glass door that led out to the back of the house.
"Oh… uh… yes? I mean, no… well, not really. I've ridden a few times." Her flustered response had him biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't think she'd appreciate him laughing.
"Well, a few times is enough to know if you like horses, at least." Fitz let his hand skim hers briefly as they walked. He started telling her about the stables and the horses they owned. Pausing only when he saw her gazing at the pool. He stopped walking and let her take it in.
"It's breathtaking." She pointed to the far end of the water that was designed to look more like a natural scene than a pool. "Where does it go?"
"It empties into what is meant to resemble a hot spring in a grotto. It's back over there. We can go take a walk and see it if you want. We could even swim."
"Oh, no." She shook her head. "I don't have a suit and we have dinner with our parents later."
Fitz chuckled. "So? We have suits in the pool house. I'm sure one would fit you. And dinner is still hours away. Come on, Olivia. Or don't you know how to swim?"
She tilted her head in an adorable way, as if she were studying him, waiting a moment before she replied. "I can swim, Mr. Grant. It would be… inappropriate to swim before dinner."
He leaned in close to her ear. "You didn't strike me as someone who cared about appropriate, Olivia." He was pleased when she shivered and stepped back just a half step.
"That would be a bad assumption, Mr. Grant." She lifted her chin just a little. "Are we going to see the horses?"
He put his hand at the small of her back. "Sure. We'll go see the horses, Olivia. Right this way." He kept possession of the spot he'd claimed just above the band on her slacks, even when she tried to step away again. When he looked over at her, he couldn't hide his pleasure at seeing the color had seeped back into her cheeks.