Author's Note: As I said last time, I continued this story to serve as a palate cleanser and calming agent to the spirit for when the show decides to just go… crazy is too weak a word for it and fuckery doesn't even scratch the surface.

I find it grimly amusing that before the checks cleared and the show got renewed for Season 2, Ms. Rhimes was so gung-ho and deep and happy about Liv and Fitz, both in and outside of their Olitz unit, yet now that she's gotten her heels dug deeper into ABC's hide and the majority of the fandom has spoken their wishes, she feels like destroying, humiliating, and disrespecting them on a regular basis is kosher.

And that she feels like she shouldn't have to write anything for them or the other characters in the SCANDAL-verse that makes sense or connects to already established canon events or just…fuck. This sucks.

As I said in Loose's latest A/N, I am hurt and angry and frankly heartbroken at what SCANDAL has become (essentially a non-Madea Tyler Perry dramedy on roids with more useless white people and better sex scenes) and unless an absolute, sensible miracle happens within the next 3 episodes (which I doubt), I'm tapping out before Season 4, if there's even one to be had. I'm not leaving the fandom or my stories behind but as for following and watching the show like I do now, nope.

There are just too many other good shows out there with showrunners who know how to write well for characters of all races and genders for me to stick around for more of this motherfucking bullshit. I'm not gonna line the pockets of someone who can't show decency and joy for multi faceted women of color (especially black ones, it seems which is disgusting because of obvious reasons) without ruining her first or doing it because they were forced to by the network executives in order to avoid a well deserved cancellation.

And you know, once I heard who was going to be running it, I knew that I would eventually regret getting into SCANDAL because that's exactly what ended up happening when I watched Grey's and PP. I came in expecting some sort of rug pulling, bait and switch and sadly, those expectations have been shattered in all the wrong ways.

Well…at least we still have fanfic. That counts for something.

Another update for Shattering will be up soon.

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

As soon as Jake suggested it the first time, Charlie had called him a motherfucking idiot between his mad cackling. When he repeated the Op idea, along with a perfectly reasonable explanation for doing it that he was 90% certain Command would go for, the lunatic had mulled it over and then nodded once in agreement before dropping a caveat in. He wasn't going to vouch for him if the Op went South and of course, he would be going to the 'ACME CEO's' office alone to make his pitch.

The pitch? Becoming a model for one of Olivia's late afternoon sketch classes…a nude model. The reason? Recon. The 2014-2015 term had started at Corcoran last month and there had to be new classmates. Those new classmates had to be noted, vetted, and cleared. Time and finances could be saved by simply sending an operative in and since Jake had been on the latest protective detail (he absolutely refused to call it Diaper Duty…) from the start, he was familiar with Olivia's body language and would be better suited to make detailed notes of her responses to each individual and…

"…really?"

Charlie waggled his brows and continued whistling a jazzy version of the traditional funeral dirge as they filled out time cards for their 'day shifts' at the 'paper company'.

"…it's a good idea, damn it." Jake grumbled defensively for the umpteenth time, barely suppressing the urge to shoot the maniac dead.

"Maybe a little bit but mainly, it's just a lame ass excuse for you to go see Liv-Liv more often. You wanna finally introduce yourself, which is not only lame but dangerous in case she wises up and realizes that her daddy's the big bad B613 wolf, by the way. Plus, you wanna show off the goods for her and hope that she's hungry for Hamburger Helper instead of the Kobe beef steak she's got at home. Don't look at me like that because other than homemade key lime pie, my favorite dessert is pussy. I'd live off of it if I could, especially if it's attached to someone just as whacked out as I am and built like a brick shithouse. Still, I gotta admit that Grant looks like he fell off of Mt. Olympus into GQ. He could definitely get it if he wanted it from me, stone cold sober. I'd even stay on the bottom the whole time and swallow instead of spit. ", Charlie confessed between adding copious amounts of Sweet n Low to his paper cup of tar disguised as coffee.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!"

Charlie just laughed and clapped him on the shoulder as they headed for the gun range.

"The same fucking thing that's wrong with everyone around these parts, Sparky: too much gore and bloodshed, too little positive human contact, and a very vivid and perverse imagination. Say, when eventually Rowan kills you or puts you in The Hole until after the Zombie Apocalypse, can I have your crash pad? It's sweet digs and right near the 7:52 Metro train I use…"

"He's not gonna kill me or put me in The Hole, Charlie. I haven't done anything wrong."

"Yet. You've got a perpetual Pope Pussy penis problem, Princess and to me, it's fucking hilarious because it's not gonna happen but to him? It's the 8th Deadly Sin and a loogie straight to the eyeball. Liv-Liv's supposed to stay a Vestal Virgin until someone he approves of comes along or until she's 50. The fact that Grant's still alive and intact means that he just might actually like the little shit, meaning that he'll be even more vigilant about other men trying to get in her pants. Once Rowan figures out your little crushy-crush on his baby girl, and he will figure it out eventually because he's just as smart as he is demented, you're fucked all ways to Sunday and not in the good way. I told you in Sicily: Unless ordered otherwise, Command's daughter is totally off limits for an encyclopedia's worth of good reasons. Pull your horny head out of your ass and accept it before it's too late."

"Why, Charlie…is that a hint of concern in your voice? I didn't know you cared." he sniped weakly.

"Eh, what can I say? You grew on me like black mold and I've gotten used to working with someone who hasn't immediately acted on the murderous fantasies they have against me after a day."

"Today's not over yet."

"And neither is your life, whatever's left of it after this Hellhole gets done with you. Don't throw it away over something this stupid and dangerous. Go for the Op but seriously, you've gotta find a way to get Olivia Pope out of your spank bank pronto…"

"Is there any particular pose you want me to do?"

"No. Do whatever you want. Just remember that you'll be in that position for a while."

"You should know by now that I don't mind being in positions for extended periods of time with you, sweetheart… especially naked ones."

"I do know that. All too well."

As Fitz shifted about in her bed, adjusting where the covers and pillows were, Olivia could feel excitement build within her. From the moment their eyes first met, she wanted to draw him. Although she was able to, doing portraits of people was typically something she shied away from. There was an intimacy there that she found off putting, not to mention the potential for hurt feelings if the picture turned out 'wrong'. But, as with a lot of things, Fitz was proving to be an exception to her rules. She could hardly wait to begin. She wanted to show him affection, to show him her regard and appreciation for him not just as a physical being but for who he was. He was a multi faceted man, filled with layers and flaws and strengths that never bored her. He was not only her lover, her tender Dom, but had become one of her dearest friends, if not the dearest.

Olivia was not very good with words when it came to emotional matters. The dark time after her mother passed away and her father's subsequent retreat to the fringes of her life had stunted her. She would express herself but…art was her main outlet. Art said all the things that she couldn't say, wouldn't say, and was just too damned frightened to say…

Art gave her the true voice and boldness that she longed for.

"Livvie?"

Looking at him, she felt her mouth go dry. Due to the wind and the last big temperature jump before fall, his growing out hair was tousled and an errant Superman curl went over his brow. Fitz was resting on his back diagonally, bare until the hunter green sheet that covered him from just past his hipbones down, his left foot visible. His skin had taken on a marble like finish in the afternoon sunlight and he was just…

"Beautiful…", she breathed.

His cheeks filled with color and he looked away from her shyly, sending a shot of tenderness to temper the growing lust she was feeling for him. Picking up her large sketch pad and pencil case, she sat on the large black cushion next to the bed and he turned on his side to look at her. His lips quirked and she cocked her head curiously at the impish gleam in his eyes.

"Draw me like one of your French girls, Livvie."

She would as soon as she stopped laughing.

/

"This is an unexpected visit."

"No, it's not. My boy's fucking your daughter, Rowan."

"I'm aware of the situation, Gerry."

"Of course you are. Hell, knowing you, you probably set it all up."

"Gerry, you can rest assured that if I had been playing matchmaker for my daughter, then Fitzgerald III wouldn't have even been jokingly considered as a suitor. The last thing I would've wanted was for Olivia to attach herself to the ego driven train wreck of a Grant man."

"I should resent that but you've got a point…well, what are we going to do about it, now?"

"I'm not going to do anything. You can do as you want, Senator."

"You just said…"

"I know what I just said but that was before I figured out what your son is really like. I was expecting him to be a carbon copy of yourself: selfish, oversexed, arrogant…imagine my surprise when he proved to be the polar opposite. He's inherited your work ethic and way of getting what he wants but it's tempered with his mother's empathy and softness. You know, I never did understand what Felicity Giametta saw in you. None of us did. She was a genuine angel and she deserved a much better man than the likes of you. Were it not for my Maya, I would've pursued her and won her hand."

"…and then today's situation would be even more fucked up than it already is. You can't be happy about this cluster, Rowan."

"I'm not but I'm willing to learn how to be. Despite his background and my misgivings, your son has consistently proved himself to be worthy of my daughter's hand. And even if he hadn't…Gerry, Olivia is genuinely happy for the first time since her mother passed away. I am certainly a heartless bastard in many areas but not when it comes to my daughter. I'll always think that she can do better but for the time being, her choice is acceptable. You do realize that if you try to interfere between them, they'll just come closer together, don't you?"

"…I guess. Spite can be pretty damned potent, especially in twenty-somethings."

"It's not just about spite and puppy love between them. There are other factors in play. One major one, actually."

"What could be so damned important that you're actually tapping out? Is she knocked up?"

"Not that I'm aware of but that can change any minute now. Your son and my daughter have initiated a Dominant and Submissive relationship. Olivia is Fitzgerald's submissive and separating them has the potential to do great harm to her mentally. The risk is unacceptable."

"Wait, you're telling me that my son is a Dom? This is Fitz Grant III we're still talking about, right?"

"Yes."

"No fucking way, Rowan. He doesn't have the balls!"

"Apparently he does. The Intel has been vetted and confirmed by my best operative."

"Wow…it must be killing you to know that your daughter is a sex slave for a man, especially to a white man."

"The difference between what is happening between our children now and what happened on the plantations is that Olivia has the option and absolute legal right to say no to Fitzgerald. In the past, it was either submit or be killed or watch their loved ones be tortured and killed as punishment for being uppity. Thankfully, things have changed and the D/s lifestyle isn't just about sex, not when it's done correctly."

"How do you know it's being done correctly?"

"I know my daughter. Once she decides on a course of action, she does so with full knowledge going in and with a standard of excellence."

"This is sick. The whole situation is fucking sick."

"It is but given how stable that the two of us are and the fact that their mothers died before they could prevent us doing permanent emotional damage to them, I think we should count ourselves fortunate that they've come together to work out their issues in this way instead of a much bloodier, messier way."

"…Tripp could've easily been a serial killer."

"As could Olivia. Unless things take a turn for the worst between them, I'm staying out of it and you'd do well to do the same, Gerry. You don't want to cross me. You know what I'm capable of. Leave them in peace or suffer the consequences."

"This doesn't have anything to do with defending or protecting the Republic."

"No, this is about defending and protecting my daughter. She is infinitely more important."