Options
Canon compliant-ish
Late afternoon
Olivia paces her office. A man who is not president has options…A man who is not president can have the life he wants with the woman he loves…Some men are meant to be great. Stephen interrupts her contemplation. "You cannot have him…you cheated."
She turns watching his mouth move absorbing yet another rebuke and denial of what she wants for herself and the one true love her life. She nods in the affirmative out of habit, "Someone find the next free five minutes in the First Lady's schedule," she commands.
Mellie barks orders at the frenzied White House valets frantically packing her belongings for her quick departure. She turns to her assistant, "Make sure the Santa Barbara residence…preferably the cottage is prepared for my arrival…someone arrange for the children to greet me at the airport…oh, contact a friendly reporter." I will seize his disaster to launch my second act as a viable political player.
"Mellie," Olivia announces her arrival, "He is talking about resigning…surely we can work something out."
She turns and eyes the nemesis in her head; the existential threat to her very existence…the final nail in the coffin of their political marriage. She never takes her eyes off the impeccably dressed woman in the doorway. "We need the room," she announces to the staff. "You want to deal…fine, but first I am going to have to take my husband back."
Olivia mouth falls open in shock. The tacit truth neither ever acknowledges invades the room and charges the atmosphere. "I try…I push…I make sure he has what he needs but obviously I am going to have to do everything myself," she hisses.
Olivia's mind bounces between competing realities taking in the venom. I am the help…I deserve her hate…she is his wife. He belongs to me…he wants a life with me…he is the only man I have ever loved. She decides to brush off the misplaced guilt, "I…" she is cut off.
"You what…you want to save his presidency; we can do that on my terms. The great Olivia Pope will bend to my will…serve my needs and then fade away from this administration. You will be a footnote in the Grant Legacy. Are we clear?"
Liv offers a sarcastic chuckle, "No."
"Excuse me."
"No…you are not in a position to make demands. You have zero leverage…no cards to play. You can accept what I am about to offer or go down in flames with everyone else who gets in our way." I promised to eat, sleep and breathe Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III and I will be damned if I stop now.
"Did you somehow forget that the entire world spent today listening to you fuck my husband? One word from me in print or a tearful interview by me and you are both ruined. Stop playing dumb; it's insulting."
"To be clear…the tape captured a committed couple making love. I know that is an impossible concept for you to understand since you have never experienced that level of relationship or better yet you are incapable of that level of intimacy."
"Love…really. I thought you were smarter than that. I expect that romanticized rhetoric from my idealistic husband but I always thought more of you."
Olivia checks her watch, "We are short on time so I need to provide you with the opportunity to make some choices before I execute the next steps to make the President's wishes a concrete, tangible reality."
Mellie scoffs, "Go for it…I could use a good laugh after today's self-inflicted wound," she gestures to her formidable opponent to keep talking.
"Option one…agree to a sit down interview to announce your amicable divorce and open the door to your own political future. Option two…refuse to cooperate with option one and I ruin you forever," she folds her hands together holding them in front of her body.
Early evening
Fitz enters the room watching the production staff members scurry to prepare for the live televised interview. His erratic heart is calmed by the warm, welcome presence next to him, "The single interview that saves a presidency. You ready"
"I have never been more ready or wanted anything more than this moment," he looks down at the love of his life.
Olivia does not take her eyes off the room. "Good…Mellie is sequestered at Blair House; technically against her will but on paper the Secret Service protocols exist for a reason. Under the guise of keeping the Republican's in line Cyrus is working the phones from his office. By the time he realizes what is happening he will not be able to sabotage our plan forward. He will either fall in line or you will have to let him go. Are you prepared for that?" her left brow rises just an inch.
"Are you seriously standing here questioning whether my mind would entertain a choice between Cyrus' vision for my life and a chance for a fresh beginning with you? Have you taken ill or do I need to remind you physically in public of what I want," he replies.
"Please do not. I am managing more than enough Grant drama to last two terms let alone the first one."
"Good," he turns to face her. Olivia reaches up and straightens his tie and brushes both hands across the muscled shoulders hidden under his tailored suit.
She pulls the folder tucked under arm out, "This is Cyrus approved. Please make sure you handle this before you arrive home tonight…and by home I mean my place, my bed, and my arms. Are we clear?"
"Consider it handled," he smiles devilishly.
Late night
A freshly showered Olivia tucks into the corner of the couch with a large glass bowl of popcorn in her lap. She watches the high stakes interview in amusement. He is enjoying this way too much. She hears the keys jingling in the lock and turns her head to watch all 6'2 of the President of the United States cross the threshold, "What's the verdict?" he greets.
She picks up the remote and stops the recording. He snatches off his suit jacket tossing the item on the closest chair before loosening his tie and plopping down next to her. "Did you have to be so smug…so damn gleeful. You looked like a kid that woke up for the first day of summer vacation," she chastises.
"To you…but I am more interested in the masses we will ask to vote for us in the next two years," he clarifies.
"I instructed your team to conduct polling before I left but if my gut is correct and she responds in typical Mellie fashion we can date publicly in one year. For now my presence as trusted crisis advisor based on my history during the first campaign will get the job done."
Fitz's phone sounds with a notification but he does not respond. A minute passes before the sound of her phone breaks the silence. They turn to each other and reply in unison, "Cyrus."
"Tom has strict instructions. We will not be disturbed," he explains.
"Good," she leans forward placing the bowl on the low table before her. She curls up on her left side and snuggles against his strong body.
He uses his arm to pull her in closer and exhales all the loss and dread he carried since she has been gone from him. "God, I missed you."
"Never again…I promise."
Pre-dawn the next day
Fitz wakes to soft kisses on his face, "Morning," his voice is deep and gritty. He has not experienced a decent night's sleep since the last time she left him.
"Morning…we have tons of work and I need you at the top of your game."
"Hmm…I think a shared shower might be just the inspiration I need."
"Race you," Olivia leaps from the bed and enters the bathroom to start the shower. She barely gets the water running before he hoists her onto the counter and delivers a series of sensual kisses down her neck. "Fitz," she gasps.
"I know you are not foolish enough to think I am leaving without a full dose of Pope," he shakes his head. He pushes the delicate strap of her chemise night gown from her shoulder before devouring her nipple. He crouches to nibble a path down her torso. Finally he buries his head between her thighs. Olivia submits throwing her legs over her shoulders and leaning her head against the mirror. Nothing has ever felt like this and nothing ever will.
Morning
Cyrus sits in front of the television still dressed in his suit from the day before. His hair stands on end. He has yet to utter a single word because his mind cannot comprehend how the President he created and the protégé he nurtured out played him. He runs his fingers over the top of his head and re-focuses on the media coverage playing out in real time. He uses the remote to switch between cable channels:
President Grant comes clean…more than a decade of emotional abandonment…marriage only exists on paper…years of threats and manipulation to sabotage…desperate to protect his children…dedicated public servant held hostage by a vicious, power hungry individual...in love with an incredible woman who is not legally his wife...a single night of surrender
The narrative was set and the overwhelming consensus portrayed the President of the United State as the vulnerable, remorseful but more importantly worthy of forgiveness. Cyrus recognized his best option was to fall in line but he could not shake the feeling; did not want to acknowledge the reality of being replaced. Olivia and Fitz moved him outside the circle. Can I work my way back to the right hand of the king?
Fitz enters Blair House profiling the room to determine the quickest approach to dispatch the albatross known as the current First Lady from his life once and for all. The fully packed luggage near the door provided the first clue. She is not accepting reality.
"Mellie, may I have a moment?" he calls. He left Olivia's before the crack of dawn to make sure he completed this task before returning to the job he thoroughly enjoyed.
She enters the room a disheveled mess. A sloppy purple terry cloth robe covers the camel colored pencil skirt and crème blouse she wore the day before. Her mangled hair and the Mason jar half filled with clear liquid in her hand signals she is prepared to fight and fight dirty. "Well, if it isn't the emotionally, spiritually damaged POTUS. Are you sure you should be alone with the big, bad wolf?" she taunts.
Keep your eyes on the prize. "Mellie, I have a busy day leading the free world and preparing for the life I want…the life I have always wanted. So may I suggest we do each other a favor and make this process as painless as possible behind closed doors," he offers.
"Not a chance in hell…you declared war and I am more than capable of responding," she spits.
"You could…but think about the kids. Can't we come together for them?"
"Give me a break…this is not about the kids. The last thing you are thinking about is those children. This is about your dick and it's obsession with Olivia's cunt."
His brows raise, "Watch your tone, watch your mouth and choose wisely. This is about us and what we should have done years ago. Do not drag her into our mess."
"After what you did…have you watched any of the coverage? Do not back me into a corner…I can be deadly," she challenges.
He nods, "You could…but to what end. Any attempt by you to drag the divorce proceedings out or battle me over a legally executed pre-nuptial agreement only confirms the current narrative. If you want to change your profile you have to play nice. I thought the brilliant political mind you claim to have would understand the basics." He places the folder on the nearest side table. "After you sign the dissolution of marriage forms have Agent Rambeau deliver the folder to my secretary. By the way, serving as messenger will be his last act as a member of this administration. You, of course, are free to hire him to continue serving at your pleasure."
Olivia enters OPA with a insulated paper cup of tea in one hand, a Prada bag secure on the opposite arm and a satisfied smile on her face, "Stephen, my office," she barks.
The other Gladiators look up from their desks and glance at each other. Shit just got real…So much for my daily dose of man eye-candy…what is happening.
He moves from behind his desk and exits the larger office. The office that signaled to the others that he alone was her right-hand man…the one she relied upon…the keeper of her secrets. I may have over played my hand. "I see the situation is handled in true Pope Genius," he tries to back pedal from his defiance the day before.
She places her items on her desk, "Let's save the bullshit for the normal…this is OPA…we do not tolerate pansies and I do not have the patience for bitch babies. The President and I are happening…my team will assist making it happen and I cannot allow any resistance. Pack and be gone within the hour. Are we clear?" She folds her arms defiantly.
"Wait…Liv, this is me...Stephen. I can get on board. You are going to need me," he pleads his case.
"You delivered your opening statement yesterday…and I quote…you cheated…you cannot have him. Did I miss anything?" she challenges.
"I was trying to protect you…the spectacle…the media coverage…the spotlight will be brutal. You are best behind the scene…you have never craved the center of the ring," he stammers.
She chuckles humorlessly, "Wow…good thing you are pretty. Unfortunately for you I am Olivia Carolyn Pope. I may be a lot of things but stupid is not one of them. You were protecting yourself and the shoes you pretend to fill because Fitz was not firmly by my side. He is now so your presence is no longer needed. As a gesture of good will I am offering an opportunity for you to leave peacefully. Trust me…you do not want to be removed by the full force of the presidency of the United States. My man has it like that and he is taking names and kicking ass." Stephen nods quickly. "Good, I can check that off my 'to do' list. Now if you will excuse me I have a very full day. Conference room," she calls to the eaves dropping ears in the hallway.
Cyrus attempts to enter the Oval Office for the umpteenth time. Each effort was delayed, re-directed or rebuffed. "Lauren, may I have a moment of the President's time?" he surrenders to his outsider status.
She recognizes the resignation in his voice and the devastation in his body language. "He will see you now," she gestures toward the door. He is butt hurt and doomed.
He crosses the threshold and stops short. Olivia is perched on the edge of his desk with her back to the door. Fitz sits behind the Resolute Desk holding her hand. Their discussion halts once they recognize his presence. "How may we help you today Mr. Beene?" Fitz greets.
He swallows thickly, "I came to offer my services. I serve at the pleasure of the President. I fully recognize that…I am prepared to carry out your orders without deviation or any manner of push back real or perceived." He watches the silent exchange between them while he awaits his fate.
"Thank you, we will consider your offer. Please make sure the meetings and pending legislation assigned to you on Capitol Hill are completed as previous discussed."
"Sir…yes Sir…I can provide a briefing within the hour," he is interrupted.
"Mr. Beene, an individual briefing is no longer necessary. I do expect an executive memo before the close of business. Thank you for your time."
Cyrus literally back pedals of out the room. Now I know how it feels to be Pope'd and she never even opened her mouth.
Late night
"Not that I do not enjoy your company but at some point I have to send you back to the White House," she teases. They both undress in her bedroom looking forward to a productive night on the couch.
"Oh, you must not have heard. The White House Residence is under renovation so I have relocated. As a safety precaution the Secret Service will not release my whereabouts. So, get use to it…we are roomies for the foreseeable future," he laughs at the look on her face before throwing his full body back against her bed.
"What in the hell? You are an idiot," standing at the foot of the bed she squeezes his sock covered feet. She cannot hide her giddy smile.
"This is the fun part-right. The happy ever after," he continues to grin wide with mischievous blue eyes.
"This is whatever we want. I love you," she replies climbing onto the bed before straddling his waist.
Fitz responds by gripping her hips and rolling them over, "I love you more…no backsies."
She laughs with joy, "No backsies."
AN: The Muse was adamant today. I apologize for any errors. This was completed in one session. Thanks to all of you for the follows, favorites, reads and reviews. Each of you reminds me that we were all watching the same show and SR was the crazy one. I hope this small contributions helps. Until next time…