Chapter 1

May 2011

Slumped in the back of her father's car, Olivia refuses to look at him. She can barely hear him through the waves of pain radiating from her head and her heart.

"… putting your years of common sense aside to allow that puppet to use you …"

She tries to inhale and finds it impossible. The air has gone heavy; gravity has forced itself down her throat and taken up residence. Her lungs are incapable of ever filling again.

"… think he will save you from that predator of a wife? Think again Olivia. How stupid are …"

She tries to find something to grasp. Some thought or angle that will save her from this suffocation, this sinking into unbelievable pain.

"… packed and your team knows that Pope and Associates is closed until further notice. You can take care of dismantling the business when you …"

She closes her eyes and tries to hide inside herself. This allows her to drown out her father, but not the snippets of memories that ebb forward to prick their needles into her bruised heart.

"Your whore! That's all she is! It is all she will ever be - at least to the press. I will not allow you to publicly cuckold me with your romantic fantasy Fitz!"

"Mellie, we are going to fix this. I understand you're angry, but for the moment will you refrain from calling me a whore at least to my face?"

Sliding deeper into her seat, Olivia presses her forehead to the cool window and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Liv, I had no choice! She would have used your identity to threaten you. Don't you see that? What other options did I have for protecting you? Mellie is off the rails where it concerns you and I will NOT allow her to take you from ME!

Olivia begins to drift with the rocking motion of the car. Her father is thankfully silent now that his fuming has reached its peak. She can hear him making arrangements in her name for a flight. She is only vaguely surprised that she doesn't care.

"You used me Fitz. You dangled my career and my self-respect in front of the press to keep me here. How can you not see what's wrong with that? You sacrificed my life without thought to what I want!"

"Bullshit Liv! You want this, you want us. What difference does it make how we get there? What matters, or at least what I thought mattered, was that we were going to be together and no one could hold us hostage for a damn thing."

"Where is the logic in this move Fitz? Huh? How is destroying me in public EVER conducive to us being together? What you've ensured is that I have to wait for you until you unsaddle Mellie. No one will work with me, no one will want to associate with me or even, even …". You've destroyed what I held most precious other than you … my self-conviction. I've known you were selfish, no politician is otherwise, but Fitz, you ruined me to keep me."

She awakes with a start. The hand on her arm is not gentle as it pulls her from the car. Blinking at the runway lights, she makes out a small plane with its steps lowered and a pilot waiting at the door. The hand on her arm shakes her and she stops to look at its owner. Her father bends down and moves his face within inches of hers. Shrinking back a little, Olivia still cannot bring her eyes to his face.

"Ordinarily, I would be able to trust you to fly solo without adult supervision. Given the circumstances, I will accompany you to Virginia and make sure that you reach your destination. Now give me your phone."

Olivia silently opens her purse and extends it toward her father. She has not uttered a word and doesn't care to. Her father snatches her phone, keys and wallet.

"You won't need these again. Once we reach our destination, we will issue you a new phone, identification and everything else required to start fresh. Now let's go."

Olivia is once again taken by the upper arm and dragged across the tarmac into the plane. She's placed in the back of the plane and belted in like a small child. Her father takes the seat across from her and snaps his fingers for an attendant. The attendant is clearly military and salutes her father before asking "What can I get you Sir?"

"Bring me a scotch and the young lady will have a glass of Shiraz." Making eye contact with the steward, he meaningfully makes one last request. "Please make sure the wine is in our standard issue wine glass. Thank you." With a curt nod, the attendant steps away.

Olivia has gazed out the window during the exchange showing no interest in the attendant or her surroundings for that matter. She jumps a little when the plane engines start. It has started to mist rain outside and the in-ground lights take on a sheen that makes them twinkle prettily.

The attendant returns with their drinks. She ignores the stemless wine glass on the table in front of her, uninterested in drinking it. Her father leans forward in the small space, roughly grabs her wrist and forces the glass in her hand.

"Drink it. Now."

Olivia flinches at the pain in her wrist. Dutifully, she raises the glass to her lips and stares at her father over its rim, drinking deeply. She notes the slight grittiness and makes a face.

"Finish it. The bottle has been on the plane a long time. Likely sediment stirred up during the pour."

Olivia ignores him and finishes the rest of her wine. The attendant silently retrieves her glass and brings her father another scotch. She pulls the blanket from the seat next to her and arranges it around her middle. Bone tired is a poor description for the exhaustion she feels. The plane taxis forward and as it begins to line up for its takeoff, Olivia feels a heaviness take over her body. She doesn't fight it and welcomes the creeping numbness spreading through her limbs. After the day she's just experienced, she's surprised that numbness is all that's wrong with her body - she's pretty sure that her heart is well south of where it used to be.

She looks over at her father and he seems far away. The plane is somehow bigger and her seat is nearly as wide as a love seat now. She closes her eyes and places a hand over her lower stomach trying to soothe the sudden roil. 'Cheap wine', she thinks.

As the plane gathers speed, she allows herself to float off grateful that she can escape, even if it's in under her father's eye.

April 2011

"Please stop Fitz."

Olivia tries to rise from the President's lap in the press anteroom. It is 2 minutes before Fitz has to make a speech on the government's anti-monopoly policy. Deliberately ignoring her, Fitz holds her by the hips and tries to kiss her.

"Fitz, I said stop it. Enough."

With a huff, Fitz rolls his head back, but doesn't release her. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling as he goes through it once more.

"Olivia, we've talked about this already. I've made it clear that I will run again. I will conduct a campaign that is clean and I've agreed to keep Mellie by my side while I do it. I've agreed to all you've asked. Why can't you give me your word that you'll stay? With Cyrus recovering, I need you now. More than ever."

Exasperated, Olivia turns in his hands and sits with her back to him. She takes a breath and tries to override the spooling heat between her legs. It is hard to talk to him when his hands are on her. She finds herself more concerned with where he'll put them next. It is usually never where she expects and she loves that. Loves it, but is very distracted by it. While her shift has allowed her to avoid looking at him, it has only increased the contact of his hardness between the apex of her thighs.

"Mmmm, that's better", Fitz rumbles into the side of her neck. With a sharp tug, he pulls her hips back, shifts his hips forward, and begins to slide her back and forth along the length of his cock. Olivia's breath quickens when he varies the sliding motion with an upward grind of his hips. He knows she wants to talk, but he can't focus on anything but the damp heat radiating from her between her legs. With just a minute left before they call for him, he can't stop grinding himself against her. Breath hitching, Fitz drags her hips up and down the seam of his cock from root to tip. As the knob of his of cock passes across her clit for the second time, pinpoints of stars begin to form in the back of her eyes. Olivia grips his thighs and tries to still his movements.

"Fitz, you're not listening. Mellie can make the time between now and the primaries very difficult for you. Your should focus your energies on reelection and not on how to keep Mellie from interfering with your campaign. Think about it and you'll see I'm right."

Fitz ignores her as he pulls her hips down tight against his and gruffs out his response timed to the steady upward motion of his hips.

"You don't think …" grind "... I know that?"

He groans softly in her ear and places a hand on the back of her neck, pushing her forward and holding her there. Bent at the waist with her hips never leaving contact with his, Olivia is angled to receive the full brunt of Fitz brutally grinding himself between her legs.

Olivia whimpers softly as his cock roughly drags back and forth against her fabric covered clit. She cannot believe it when she feels the stirrings of an orgasm. If she doesn't stop this now, she's going to agree to stay. Fitz's manipulation of her during sex is true to form. He's using his sexual influence over her to get her to agree to run his campaign.

She can hear Fitz's rhythmic breathing escalate as he rubs his cock harder between her legs. His breathing is becoming ragged and she knows him well enough to hear him reaching the point of no return. This has to stop now or he'll keep going until they both come.

Olivia wrenches herself from his grip and staggers across the room to the locked door. She ignores the burning throb between her legs. Her neck smarts from his grip. So caught up in bringing them to orgasm, Fitz is surprised that she's gotten away from him. He collapses back in the chair and groans loudly. Unfortunately for him, the Secret Service are attuned to his every sound they become concerned. There's a knock at the door.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

Fitz is unable to respond as the ache of the interrupted orgasm cramps his lower belly. He groans again looking at Olivia straightening her clothes.

"Sir? Sir, please answer. Are you alright?"

The knocks become more persistent and Olivia hears urgent whispers in the hall. With a soft hiss, Olivia jerks her hand toward the closed door. "Answer them Fitz!"

Fitz gets up, wincing at the stiffness in his pants, and walks over to her.

"Just a second Tom."

Olivia flattens her back against the door as Fitz steps into her space, crowding and overpowering her with his size. His cock rubs insistently against her belly, probing and unashamedly stroking across her navel. She keeps her eyes on his chest not trusting herself to make eye contact. He presses closer still and runs his hands down her sides and over her hips, gripping them gently. He gives them a little shake.

"Eyes up Livvie. Come on."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

The soft rumble of his voice acts like a hand under her chin. She squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes.

"I said no Fitz. I can't help you get reelected if I'm the distraction. You can win without me. So … no."

Fitz presses his forehead against hers and ignores the knock on the door.

"One minute Mr. President."

Without breaking eye contact, Fitz pulls down the side zipper of her pants and brushes her hands and weak protests aside. Slipping a hand down the front of her pants, he pauses for a moment.

"Panties? Oh, Miss Livvie, we are rebelling. You know better love."

Olivia tries to push against his chest and instead curls her fingers around his lapels, holding on against the sudden tilt shift of her world when his hand slips between her legs. Fitz's insistent fingers stroke her opening. He slides a finger in to the hilt and circles inside her wetness. Olivia's head jerks back against the door with a thump.

"Shh, shh Liv. Tom will think I need help getting out of the room."

Fitz pushes his finger deep inside her and forces his mouth down on hers. Tonguing her lips open, Fitz kisses her with his natural assertiveness, guiding her mouth to respond to him. With a whimper, Olivia parts her thighs and he rewards her with deep and slow pumps of his finger. Fitz gently bites her lower lip and releases it with a soft, but audible pop.

"This discussion isn't over. After the press conference, I've got a briefing on our anti-monopoly platform." Pump. "After that I have a foreign policy meeting with Hastings and the Secretary of State." Pump. "I'll return to my office at 8:30 p.m. and I expect to see you there. Grind. "Ok? I just want you to hear me out."

"30 seconds Sir", Tom calls out from the hallway.

Fitz pulls his finger out of her cunt and puts in his mouth, savoring the taste of her. Eyes wide, Olivia watches as he cleans off all evidence of her shiny arousal, fascinated by his tongue. His eyes never leaving hers, Fitz whispers, "I will never get tired of the way you taste."

Blinking at him, Olivia says nothing as Fitz tucks in her blouse and zips up her pants. She watches him with awed wonder as his composure returns in small ways that only she would notice - his pupils retract from dilation, the flush along his neckline fades and his shoulders relax slightly, no longer meeting his ears.

As he arranges a strand of hair behind her ear, Fitz smiles at her then kisses her softly on the lips.

"Lipstick?" he says questioningly as he pulls back, his best half grin in place.

Reaching up, she wipes a thumb across his lips and tries not to smile.

"You're good."

Olivia steps to the side and hands Fitz his talking points. He walks through the door and as he gives her a parting glance, she says softly so only he can hear, "The answer is still no Fitz."

Startled, Fitz's step falters a bit before he continues on to the press room. Tom nods at her and closes the door.

May 2011

The thump of the plane landing snaps her awake. She's surprised to see the sky taking on a pre-dawn hue. Trying to find her shoes, Olivia notes that her slow-moving clumsiness is particularly intense this morning. Usually, she's sluggish until she's seen the sun. But today she's feels as if she moving through yards of wet material.

Impatiently standing over her, Olivia's father signals to the flight attendant who snaps to his side. The Branch Director issues an order.

"Son, bring her to the car. I'll be right behind you."

Jake Ballard nods curtly and gathers Olivia in his arms, Her eyes are half closed and she doesn't protest when he lifts her bodily to his chest. Laying her head on his shoulder, she drifts away again, too tired to wonder who would bother to carry her anywhere. Jake tries to ignore the stirrings of guilt as Olivia lays limply in his arms. He knows he could have knocked back the dose to half, but for her sake he wanted her to get some rest and a retreat away from her father's intensity. She'd looked shattered when she boarded the plane; a meek child accepting punishment. So incapable of raising her head, she didn't notice him attending to their needs during the flight. While they flew towards their destination, his eyes never left her. He'd noticed her dreaming. There's no doubt in his mind that it was a sexual dream. Her lips were parted and her head rolled on her shoulders as if she were spurred on by pleasure. He knew it was lucky that the Director was on the phone the entire flight or he might have forced her to have another glass of wine. He wondered if she dreamt about the President.

Once Jake got her settled into the car, he belted her in and put her shoes on her feet. She didn't respond as he carefully laid her head against the window and stroked her cheek. In sleep, her sadness came through, unrestrained by the mask she usually wore while awake. The downturn of her mouth and the slight frown lines between her eyes gave away exactly what she was feeling. Unable to witness what was partly his fault, Jake turns away and closes the door of the car. He mentally prepared himself for the conversation he was about to have with the Director. If he could play this right, he might be the one the Director selected to shadow his daughter for the next 6 months. As with most transfers, the Director usually selected an agent to ensure the subject fully took to his/her new life. It was a sure bet that he would be the one selected, but he had to appear reluctant to do so. Any eagerness on his part would arouse the Director's suspicions.

He straightened his posture as the Director strode to the car. Before getting in, the Director turns and speaks quickly as is his custom.

"Son, I know you were in line for an appointment on the President's staff and you sacrificed that when you went into the hole. If you give me six months, I can make sure that you have a place in the White House after President Grant exits in November. Can you do that? Can you give me six months?"

Jake allows his lips to tighten and speaks curtly.

"Sir, I don't believe six months will be enough to get me back on track. I need to plan an alternative career if …"

"Son, have I ever given you cause to doubt my word?"

"No Sir. However, I have to address my future now so …"

"Your future is what I make of it Son. That is what you need to remember. If I decide that the best thing for your future is a tour in Syria, so be it. If I decide that you go back in the hole for six months, so be it. What you fail to understand is that I do not care how you would like to spend the next six months. My only concern is that you watch my daughter until she's assimilated. So, the choice is now in your hands. Syria, the hole or another surveillance detail with subject matter you seem to enjoy based on the tape I saw. Choose correctly before I make the choice for you."

Jake quells the anger he feels and reminds himself that his end goal is to be near her, atone to her. The thought of the hole is too much for him to consider. The hole changes you, takes you away into yourself and no one in B-613 can afford to look inward. No one.

"Yes, Sir. Virginia it is Sir."

"Good job Son. Don't ever question me again."

Jake nods stiffly and opens the door for the Director. Olivia's father climbs in and says, "I will be in touch in the next 24 hours. Be available."

Closing the door, the car drives off and Jake watches them speed toward the highway. It is only after they are well out of sight does he allow himself to smile.