"This ought to be interesting," Olivia said as she stepped in.

"What a coincidence. I was just coming to see you," the man stated as he pushed the button to OPA's floor.

The doors slid shut and they were officially alone.

"Do you need help starting a conversation, or do you need someone to hit 'record' first?"

He ignored her barb. "What would happen if the public learned that Mellie Grant has hired her husband's ex-mistress to run her campaign? Oh wait: she isn't officially running yet." He let Olivia make a facial expression. "We both know what would happen, but I'll say it anyway. It would kill her bid for the presidency: no, her political career, before it REALLY started."

Olivia made another face. She might be in her own building, but as long as she was trapped in any kind of walled space with him, it was enemy territory. And the first rule of enemy contact still remained true.

Volunteer nothing.

"You're the mistress. Mellie is the wronged woman. Her only political capital is the bitterness of jilted lovers. To have the mistress as an employee: to FORGIVE HER? That would lose her 90% of that vote. And then good luck getting it back before the polls open in November."

The elevator stopped. Only one of them seemed to realize how short the trip was.

The doors slid open to reveal someone's heart-shaped face, which beamed at them both.

"This ought to be interesting."

"Senator Grant," the man greeted as she stepped in and stood between the man and woman who were there before her.

"Now, I'm a lawyer by training. I can read people: it's an asset. And I don't have to have been in this claustrophobic little mechanized box to know what your conversation was about," the senator began as her hand lingered a few inches away from a button on the console.

"Yes, she is The Mistress. She's the reason why my marriage fell apart, according to everyone who isn't involved in our little love pentagon or whatever shape it is right now. But I assure you, Mr. Super-spy bully-boy, that your boss, the President of the United States, my current and somewhat estranged husband, hasn't been squeaky clean either. So while you flaunt your self-righteous pre-accusations about infidelity, how about you consider the fact that mine and Ms. Pope's naughty bits aren't the only coital contact points Fitz has had while being married to me."

"Andrew's certainly had a lot of fun with one of those contact points too, if I'm not mistaken."

It was an immature thing for him to say. But the First Lady had wound him up, and he was finding it hard to stay composed. He technically had more power than her, and she would have to remember that.

"And just how will it look to your employer if the world were to learn of that?"

Mellie let her question hang in the air and pushed a button on the console. The rest of the ride continued in silence until the doors finally slid open once more.

Both women stepped out onto the ground floor. The man followed.

The homeless guy across the street had finished the sandwich he was eating and had resumed rocking back and forth.

"Have a nice day, Captain Ballard," Olivia stated as she and Mellie stood a few feet away from him.

He turned and left: fully aware of both women's eyes watching him leave. There was nothing sexual about it.

They wanted to make sure he left the building.