AN: London Part 2. Just a heads up: here (albeit only briefly) there be Mellie. Apologies, friends, but she won't be around for much longer now, s'all I'm sayin'. Fitz and Mellie's relationship deteriorates even further and Fitz and Olivia's relationship becomes even more public when they spend time together, both with and without the kids, in public.
In case you were looking for a reference (or you're more curious than Liv is about how much he really spent on her for her birthday), the jewellery that Fitz gives Olivia is a real set designed by Astley Clarke. It's a stunning collection, researching for that stuff was waaaay more fun than researching American divorce law lol.
To the guest who sent me the editorial note regarding homonyms: thank you! Constructive criticism is always helpful and beyond appreciated. :) A different reviewer also raised an interesting observation which I was hoping someone might pick up on… ;)
"Adam," Fitz says warmly as they shake hands shortly and clap one another on the back, before stepping back to include everyone else in the group, "This is my girlfriend, Olivia." His hand settles low on her waist and though she's not intimidated by present company, she's glad for it's presence none the less.
"Olivia, lovely to meet you." Adam replies, shaking her hand and kissing her politely on the cheek, "My wife, Callie."
Once they manage to make it through all the introductions, their waitress for the evening leads the six of them (Fitz and Olivia, Cyrus and James, and Adam and Callie) to their table.
"Can I get you guys started with some drinks?" She offers once they've all taken their seats, pen and pad at the ready.
"Ladies first." Fitz offers with a smile.
"Oh, Liv, you have got to try the Coco-tini; no booze, but still delicious." Callie recommends, and after catching her favourite red on the wine list, she hesitates, then thinks, what's travelling the world for if not trying a few new things?
"Sure, why not." Liv says with a smile, turning to the waitress, who returns her smile cheerfully, before turning her gaze to James, "Fancy joining us?"
"No booze? Liv, honey, you're breaking my heart." He sighs dramatically before asking their waitress, "Is there such a thing as a grown up Coco-tini?"
"We can add white rum if you like; I've not personally tried it that way, but I've heard good things." She tells him, and his eyes light up.
"Sign me up." He grins, and catches Cyrus rolling his eyes in his peripheral vision.
"Oh, Cy, don't be such an old grump, we're out to have a good time." He scolds with an eye roll of his own.
"Yes, dear." Cyrus replies in a monotone with a half smile.
"Three Coco-tini's, one with rum." She recites as she makes short hand notes on her note pad, "And for you, gentlemen?"
"Neat Glenlivet. Double." Fitz says, and the waitress nods, jotting down his order.
"I'll have my usual, Kaitlyn." Adam orders with a smile and a wink, sending a blush sprawling over the girl's cheeks.
"Of course, Sir."
"And I'll have the Gin and Tonic." Cyrus says, and Kaitlyn nods and makes a note of it.
"I'll be right back with your drinks." She says before turning to leave.
"You're terrible." Callie admonishes her husband with a smile, "You know the poor girl has a thing for you."
"Oh, sweetheart, are you jealous?" He asks her, and smiles at him sarcastically.
"It's been twenty two years, I think I can handle you winking at the waitress." She replies teasingly.
"You see, Fitz, this is how it starts; first they don't get jealous when you flirt with someone else, next thing you know you're staring down the barrel of fifty with a wife who can't stand you." Adam says with a sigh, shaking his head.
"Men," Callie says to Liv with a roll of her eyes, "Drama queens, Liv, every last one of them."
"True, but what's life without a little drama?" James asks as Kaitlyn returns to pass out their drinks.
"No fun at all?" Callie offers.
"No fun at all." James agrees with a grin, saluting her with his martini glass, "You and I are going to get along famously, darling."
"I'm telling you, Liv, it's the bloody name!" Callie exclaims, shaking her head and gesticulating with her glass, "When I was Callie Messenger I was a respected human rights attorney who happened to be in a relationship with a politician - now I'm Callie Collins and I sound like some gold digging teenage model-slash-actress."
Liv laughs, and Callie continues, gently knocking their elbows together, "You won't have that problem though - First Lady Olivia Grant has quite the ring to it." Liv rolls her eyes and reaches for her drink for something to do with her hands, "Oh, you don't have to play coy with me, darling - I see the way you two are with each other." Callie says, leaning in as if conspiratorially and says, "Now tell me the truth, how long have you been seeing each other really - just between us girls."
"Long enough." Liv replies with a non-committal eye roll that has Callie in peels of infectious laughter that Liv can't help but join in with.
"You'll get used to separating your real life from the life you live for optics." Callie tells her, moving her hands away from the table as Kaitlyn and another waiter reappear to serve their food, "To be honest, for me it actually became something of a relief to have that separation there."
"What do you mean?" Liv asks, offering a smile and a nod of thanks to the waiter as he sets down her plate in front of her before turning her attention back to the conversation.
"I think when you try to keep certain things separate – private and professional, if you will – it gives you more control over what becomes public knowledge. You can live your life the way you want to live it but then choose which parts of that that you want to allow people access to." She explains, and Liv nods, knowing that it does her good to remind herself sometimes that the optics don't control them; they control the optics.
"Enough of this serious talk," Callie says, "You have to tell me where you got that stunning jewellery – I've been looking for some statement but still subtle rose gold pieces for a while now."
"Sorry to disappoint, but it was actually a birthday gift." She says, smiling as she runs her fingers over the fine chain on the necklace. It's a beautiful piece by Astley Clarke; a rose gold chain carrying a morganite pendant set into pavé set diamonds, with, naturally, matching drop earrings and a ring.
"Lucky girl." Callie says, nodding her approval, before turning to her right, "James, darling, when was the last time your lovely husband spoiled you?"
"This afternoon when I borrowed his credit card whilst he was waiting for your men to be done fixing the world." He jokes, and Cyrus shakes his head good naturedly.
"About that; could you two hurry up so that I can have some confidence that I might not be completely broke when I get back stateside?" Cyrus jokes, and they all laugh.
In Love In London
President of the United States Fitzgerald Grant III was spotted out for dinner in London yesterday evening with his (apparently not just) rumoured girlfriend, Olivia Pope. The newly public couple, who held hands as they walked from their car into the restaurant, were joined by the British Prime Minister, Adam Collins, and his wife Callie, a human rights attorney, along with White House Chief of Staff, Cyrus Beene, and his husband, Pulitzer nominated journalist James Novak.
The two women both looked effortlessly chic; Mrs. Collins (top left) wore a dark green strapless Badgley Mischka dress with pale green stilettos by Jimmy Choo, whilst Ms. Pope (left) paired an almost knee length, white three-quarter sleeve dress by REISS with a pair of clear and dark purple heels by Christian Louboutin - with the added accessory of the President's jacket as they left the restaurant.
The group dined at Le Gavroche in West London (which surprisingly remained open to other patrons throughout the evening), arriving at nine o'clock and staying until closing at one AM.
"It was so weird but kind of cool, too." Remarked a member of the wait staff at the restaurant, "They weren't being rude or obnoxious or anything - they didn't make any special demands, they just kind of hung out, you know, even their security people didn't get crazy when people wanted to say hi or whatever."
As they left the restaurant (with the couple once again holding hands) the group seemed to be in high spirits, laughing and chatting as they shook hands and left in three separate cars. Their evening together comes hot on the heels of today's rumors that the POTUS was spotted in a certain department in one of London's most famous department stores, leading some to ask; could the President, who last year divorced his wife of almost two decades, be planning another trip down the aisle already - this time after just six weeks of dating?
Liv arrives at the embassy the following morning, gearing up for a fight.
The security guard just inside the door checks both her and Huck's visitor's passes and waves them through, offering them a cheerful, "Good morning." as they step onto the elevator.
"How are you going to handle this?" Huck asks as they ride the elevator up to the floor which houses the Ambassador's office.
"No more beating around the bush." Liv says, checking the time on her Blackberry before dropping it back into her purse, "I can't do my job properly if they don't start being honest with me, and we're flying back to DC tomorrow night. I'm out of time to play nice."
Liv doesn't like playing hardball with the clients who are clearly going though a tough time, but on some cases it's unavoidable, and it seems this case just became one of them. When trying to contact Michael Raylan and his camp after her meeting with the Matthews' the day before, he'd refused to speak to her, and instead had his lawyer tell her, verbatim, "They know what I want, and they damn well know why I'm doing this. They're not the bloody victims here, I can assure you."
This case hasn't sat quite right with her since she got the first call, and she's officially over pretending that she doesn't know she's being lied to. Huck follows two paces behind and one to the right as she leads the way down the corridor to the Ambassador's office. Just outside the door is Max' desk, but he's not there, so instead of waiting around, she steps up to the door to knock for herself, but stops short when she realises the door isn't closed all the way - and she can hear voices coming from inside.
"We'll get through this just fine, honey, I promise." Elenore says sympathetically. Through the crack in the door Liv can see the couch beneath the window where she's sat, but not who she's talking to.
"You can't promise me that! You're not the only ones putting your reputation on the line here." A voice unmistakably belonging to Max replies in frustration. And Liv's eyes slide shut. It sounds a million miles away from a professional disagreement, and if she's having an affair with her husband's assistant, it doesn't put her in a good light if the suggestion that her kids are by someone else goes viral the way that Raylan seems to want it to.
"Slow down. Didn't we promise that we'd take good care of you?" Her eyes flash back open when she hears the Ambassador's voice join the conversation, and Max must nod because Scott continues, "And we will. Deep down, I know you know that."
A soft smile curls over Elenore's lips then, and the room goes mostly silent for a moment. Huck and Liv exchange a glance, then Elenore says, "God, you two look good together."
Huck stifles a smile, and Liv tips her head back and takes a long slow breath. "They're doing what I think they're doing, aren't they."
"Come here." Scott says demandingly, and Elenore rises from her place on the couch, still wearing the same soft smile as she shrugs out of her jacket and starts undoing the buttons on the front of her dress, "Wait- the door."
Before either one of them can so much as take a step back, Elenore has crossed the floor, reached out to close it and spotted them through the gap. Her eyes go round as saucers, and Liv gently pushes the door open, figuring it's time to bite the bullet and deal with this head on.
They're greeted by the sight of the Ambassador leaned back in his desk chair with Max straddling his lap, kissing like it's going out of style until Elenore, voice high and panicked, says, "Stop!"
They break apart so fast that Max almost loses his balance, and just quietly enough for her ears only Huck says, "They're definitely doing what you think they're doing."
She resists the urge to laugh or giggle or even smile, pulls on her professional pants and steps further into the room. "Huck, close the door."
The three of them are scrambling to look presentable as Huck clicks the door closed. "Stop." Liv says authoritatively, and they all freeze, "Sit down on the couch."
They sit.
"So. We're going to try this again, and this time, none of you are going to lie to me."
They nod.
"Right." She says, exchanging a glance with Huck, "Let's get started."
With Liv still meeting with the Matthews' and Ger and Kara taking a nap in their room, he thinks about trying to get some work done, but realises he's going to have to do the thing he's been putting off since the moment Liv suggested it.
He needs to call Mellie.
He quietly checks on them first, wanting to make sure that they're definitely sleeping and won't accidentally overhear any of what he knows is more than likely to be a less than pleasant conversation. They're both sleeping soundly and exactly as he'd expect them to be' Gerry neatly tucked under the covers and Karen sprawled out next to him with half the covers kicked off. A half smile ghosts over his face as he steps back out of the room and gently pulls the door shut.
He heads back into the living room and sits down at the desk with his cell phone in his hand, unable to recall a conversation he'd dreaded as much as he does this one.
Finally he bites the bullet and dials the number he hasn't contacted in months – in all honesty, he doesn't even know if it's still the right number for her. The phone rings and rings and rings with no answer he hears two beeps and the call ends.
So either she's busy and can't get to the phone right now, or she's deliberately ignoring me, he thinks to himself. He's pretty sure he knows which option is more likely, but decides to call her again, in case he's wrong and she just didn't get to the phone in time.
This time however, the phone only rings twice before the line cuts off, and he realises that after just a year of living a Mellie-less existence, he'd forgotten that giving her the benefit of the doubt is usually a waste of time. She's not ignoring his calls on purpose, she's actively rejecting them.
Big surprise.
Although, that being said, it has been a year. One would think that in that space of time Mellie would've found a way to act like a grown up and at least attempt to have a civil conversation with him but… evidently not.
Patience officially worn down to the nub and worries of secure lines officially bypassed by his worries for his family, he sets down his cell phone and picks up the hotel landline, knowing that she won't recognise the number as belonging to him, and therefore might actually answer the call.
It rings a few times, and Fitz wonders if he'd misjudged, maybe she really is busy, but then a moment later, the dialling stops, to be replaced by his ex-wife's voice. "Hello?"
"Mellie." He says, then, "Don't hang up."
There's a long pause of dead silence, and he wonders if maybe she did hang up on him, and he says, "Mel?"
The pause this time is significantly more brief, and she says shortly, "What do you want?"
"We need to talk." He says, suddenly finding that the fear Liv admitted to last night, that Mellie would choose now to ride in on her white horse and play the hero, might actually be realised, and he finds he's suddenly hesitant to tell her what's going on. "I know things didn't end well with us, but I think-"
"Cut the bullshit. Why are you calling, Fitz? I have nothing to say to you." Mellie says, and Fitz feels anger shoot through him like a bullet, surpassing the fear just out of sheer force.
"What about the kids, Mellie? Don't you have anything to say to them?" He asks immediately, forgetting all about his intention to try and do this calmly.
"Don't." Mellie says, her tone laced with acid, "Don't you dare try to use them as pawns to make me feel guilty-"
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Fitz asks, so shocked that he'd be laughing if he wasn't so furious, "After the divorce, I tried to stay in contact with you so that they could at least still have a relationship with you, but you cut all contact! I understand you not wanting anything to do with Liv and I, but Gerry and Karen are innocent - and I wasn't the one who made them pawns in the divorce. You were, when you walked out on them. The damage you've done? I know I'm not exactly Father of the year but at least I'm here. At least I'm trying."
She pauses, huffs, and then with all the grace of a teenager caught coming home after curfew says, "Is this why you called me after all this time? To start a fight?"
"No, I called you because…"
"Because what?" She asks more slowly, "Are they okay?"
"Physically they're fine." He tells her quickly, "They're just struggling with everything that happened." He bites his tongue for a second, but deep down knows that he needs to do this, so through practically gritted teeth he says, "We thought maybe you could talk to them, help explain that the divorce really wasn't their fault."
"I'd like to help, but-"
"But what? What is more important than them?" He asks incredulously, and Mellie makes a noise of frustration.
"It's complicated!"
This time, he's the one sitting in silence. He lets his head fall into his free hand, and suddenly feels every day as old as his forty nine years.
"Why don't you just sign over your parental rights, Mellie." Fitz says tiredly, "If you're not going to be in their lives, and you're not going to bother to explain why or say goodbye to them, at least let them have the Mom they deserve."
"I beg your pardon?" Mellie says in shock, but Fitz is hardly paying attention.
"They love her, Mellie, and she loves them." Fitz says, his voice softening just thinking about the way Liv has put so much effort, care and love into building a relationship with both Gerry and Karen that is both connected to, and entirely separate from, her relationship with him. "Clearly you're not planning on doing right by them, and if that's how you want to be, fine. Just put them out of their misery and walk away completely now, before we have to start explaining to them that you just don't love them enough to show up."
"Why?" Mellie says, voice low and deadly, "So your whore can adopt them?"
"First of all, do not call her that. She has a name, be a grown up and use it. Second; honestly? Yes." Fitz says, "It's been almost a year. You haven't spoken to them once, you haven't even tried - Jesus Christ, Mellie, you didn't even send Gerry a card on his birthday."
"I'm surprised you didn't fake it for him." And Fitz isn't sure why he's even surprised by a comment like that any more, but God help him, he is.
"Why should I lie for you? I'm not going to give them false hope that you're going to change." He tells her flatly, "You know what, this call was a mistake. I'm sorry to have bothered you with something so trivial."
He hangs up the phone without waiting for a response before he can say anything that she could use against him or Liv or the kids somehow, and leans back in his chair feeling far more exhausted than he should by two o'clock in the afternoon.
There's a tiny part of him which half expects her to call back and beg for a chance to see them, but a much bigger part which hopes she doesn't. It's probably selfish, he knows that, but he wants to protect them from Mellie's influence, and he realises suddenly that the feeling crashing around in his chest is something close to relief. He hadn't realised exactly how afraid he was that Mellie would drop everything and show up now, a year and countless questions from the kids later, and try to slot back into their lives like she'd never been gone.
Since, clearly, that's not going to happen, he knows he's going to have to figure out a way of proving to Gerry and Karen that the divorce wasn't their fault without Mellie's involvement at all.
The end of a very long day for both Fitz and Olivia finds them sinking gratefully into the built in marble bathtub; her back to his chest. Liv lets her eyes drift closed, her head tipping back to rest on Fitz' shoulder.
"How's your day been?" Liv asks, letting her eyes open lazily.
"This is definitely the high point." He tells her, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder and looping his arms comfortably around her waist. "I spoke to Mellie, she's..." He sighs tiredly, searching for the right word before finally settling on, "Well, she's Mellie."
"So she's not going to talk to them?" Liv translates, and Fitz makes a noise of confirmation. Liv tries not to focus to heavily on the feeling she knows to be relief; but she knows it's there nevertheless. She's learnt to live with the guilt/relief combination that comes from becoming the parent of two children with an absentee biological mother. They'll have to come up with a plan B to show the kids that Fitz and Mellie's split was in no way their fault and help them feel secure once more, and she knows that a large part of that is going to be proving to them that she isn't going to up and leave them too.
"What about you, did things go okay with the Ambassador?" Fitz asks, changing the subject away from his ex-wife and her apparent total inability to do anything that doesn't infuriate the hell out of him.
"'Okay' is... not exactly the word I'd use." Liv replies, almost cringing at the mental pictures that ensue at the mention of the Ambassador.
"What happened?" He asks, both curious and concerned.
"So it turns out, they have this… thing that they do." Liv starts hesitantly, before deciding, screw it, and says, "They have longterm three way relationships with other guys and I guess their relationship with Michael Raylan happened to overlap with when they got pregnant."
"Is he the kids' Dad?" Fitz asks, curious and somehow not surprised. This is politics, American politics specifically; land of the free, home of the kinky and closeted.
"They don't know. They decided not to find out."
"How… romantic." Fitz says haltingly, and Liv chuckles, shaking her head.
"That's not even the weirdest part." Liv tells him, rolling her head to the side so she can see him. He raises his eyebrows inquisitorially and she finally continues, "I found all this out because I… saw…"
"You saw." Fitz says, and then, brows shooting up, "You saw?"
Liv nods, a semi disturbed look taking over her face, "I saw."
"Oh my god." Fitz laughs, and she shakes her head but she's smiling.
Gerry and Karen shriek with laughter, Gerry on Fitz' back and Karen on Liv's hip, as their parents link hands and run through the rain in an effort to get back to the car before they get completely soaked through.
They'd managed to fit in family day - well, Fitz had had one meeting, but he managed to get the scheduling figured out it in time to be done before eleven in the morning, leaving them the whole rest of the day – their final day in London - to hang out as a family and have some fun.
After much begging from Gerry and Karen (and much bartering and compromising with the secret service) they'd ended up going to Windsor Great Park to have a family picnic. The hotel concierge had recommended a particularly secluded spot where their security detail could park closely, and they'd spent several hours being able to give the kids a normal family day out. Then, because England is well… England, the lukewarm-at-best sunshine had given way to clouds, the clouds had gotten darker, and then, predictably, it had begun pouring with rain.
"Run, Daddy!" Gerry yells, giggling as he clings to his Dad.
Tom, closest to the car, raises a hand to halt the other agents who move to assist in case someone slips on the wet grass and gets hurt, then steps forwards and opens the back door. Huck helps make sure the four of them are safely in the car, then closes the door behind them.
"That was so fun!" Gerry says excitedly, practically bouncing on Fitz' lap and shaking his head like a puppy, sending droplets of water everywhere.
"Ger!" Fitz complains, but he's grinning too much to be serious.
Fitz turns to ask Karen if she had fun too, but she's not looking at him. She's completely distracted, staring at Liv.
"Woah!" Karen says, eyes wide as saucers.
"You okay there, little one?" Liv asks with an amused smile.
"It's like… magic." She says distractedly, gently tugging on a coil of Liv's hair and letting it go to watch it spring back into place, before giggling delightedly. "Daddy! Daddy, look at Mommy's hair!"
Fitz eyes flick from Karen to Liv, unexplainably hesitant about her reaction, but she's not looking at him. She's looking at Karen, grinning from ear to ear, "This is what it normally looks like when I don't straighten it." She tells her.
"You should have it like this allthetime." Karen says happily, completely distracted playing with Liv's hair, "Right, Daddy?"
"I think Liv's beautiful all the time." He tells his daughter, and he leans forward to give Liv a brief, loving kiss on the lips.
Both Gerry and Karen immediately yell "EWW!" and cover each other's eyes making both Fitz and Liv laugh - Liv even catches Huck and Tom fighting smiles in the front.
When they get back to the hotel, there isn't really time to do anything but get everybody showered and cleaned up from the rain, and then make sure they're all packed up to go home. The mad scramble to get a photograph that ensues as the four of them are loaded into the SUV to go back to the runway where Air Force One is waiting is a vast contrast to the peace which surrounds them an hour or so after take off.
Leaving her three favourite people curled up in watching Karen's current favourite movie (Madagascar), Liv steps out to talk to Cyrus about Chloe before they arrive back in DC, when a raised voice in the bathroom to her right in the small corridor catches her attention.
The door is only half closed, and she can see Callum in the illuminated mirror on the wall, "Are you joking? Look, I get where you're coming from but I-"
She stops in her tracks feeling suddenly and inexplicably uneasy. There's a pause and then, sounding considerably more stressed, "I don't think you understand what you're asking of me here! Do you have any idea how closely-" He looks up and catches sight of her in the reflective glass of the window to an office across the hall. "Ms. Pope." He says quickly before ending the phone conversation with an abrupt, "I'll call you back later."
He snaps his phone shut and steps out of the bathroom as she steps further into the corridor and pulls the bedroom door closed behind herself.
"Everything okay, Callum?" She asks, brows raised. She's never so much as heard him raise his voice before.
"Yes!" He says quickly, then, "Everything's fine, Liv. Just… girlfriend trouble."
She has no reason not to believe him, he's never given them any cause for concern, and yet something doesn't sit quite right. He seems too nervous - and the Callum she's come to know over the past year and a half isn't a nervous guy in her experience.
"I didn't know you had a girlfriend." She says easily, and Callum swallows hard. Bingo.
"Yeah, it's pretty new." He replies as he forces himself to calm down, shrugging, "Sorry for disturbing you, I should get back to work."
"Sure." Liv says with a neat smile. She can't explain it - she really hasn't ever had any concerns about him before, but now, suddenly, alarm bells are ringing in her gut, almost saying you can't trust this person.
She files it away as something to put more thought into once they've landed and gotten settled at home, but puts it away for the time being. She's got a potentially unpleasant conversation to have with Cyrus waiting for her, and there's no time like the present.
"We need to talk, Cy." Liv says as she sits down in the seat across the small table from him, and he looks at her with a sense of knowing exasperation over the top of his laptop, like he already knows what she wants to talk to him about.
"I'm listening." He says neutrally.
"Chloe Hanes." She says, "Leave it alone."
"He cares about her a lot, whoever she is." Cyrus remarks, returning his gaze to his laptop, "I think you might have inadvertently opened the floodgates on the Grant traits we all thought had skipped a generation."
Liv takes a slow deep breath and reminds herself to keep her head. Getting angry with him and blurting out the truth will bring only negative consequences.
"It's not an affair, Cyrus." Liv tells him honestly, "And whether you believe it or not, it happens to be the truth. Do you think I'd still be here - and defending him to you, much less, if it was?"
When Cyrus still doesn't return his gaze to her, she reaches over the table and closes the lid on his laptop. "I need you to trust me on this. He's not cheating on me."
"Let's say I believe you." Cyrus says, leaning back in his chair, "I need more from you than who she isn't. I need to know who she is and why she's calling the Oval directly - why she's able to call the Oval directly."
She's been thinking about this question long and hard over the course of the weekend, and she's realised they really don't have a lot of options. The fact that the call was made on a secure line directly to Fitz' personal secretary - therefore bypassing all official channels that an outside call would usually face - severely limits the possibilities.
"It's not some big secret, Cy." Liv shrugs calmly, "She's just a friend of his. They went to college together."
"College." Cyrus says, like he can't decide if he believes her, "They- College."
"Yes."
He stares at her for a long time - his eyes searching her face and body language for any infinitesimal tells that might suggest she's lying, but she's unreadable.
"If she's just an old college friend then why all the dramatics about me needing to stay away from her?" He asks, and Liv knows the next thing she's going to say will either make or break the story.
"Look, he mostly trusts you again, now, Cy. I just didn't want to see you throw that away by digging into his personal life behind his back." Liv explains, "You know how low his tolerance is for snakes in the grass these days, and I also know how loyal you are to him. But he wouldn't see it that way and you know it."
"He reacted the same. Damn near took my head off when I even mentioned her name." Cyrus says, holding fast to the shred of doubt the imperfect story allows.
"He didn't react that way because of her, Cy! Not to sound like a broken record, but you accused him of cheating on me. He was offended and angry, honestly, you've known him for years, Cyrus, what did you expect?" Liv says, and this part she doesn't even have to fake. It's almost entirely the truth.
"He mostly trusts me." Cyrus says after a pause, though it almost sounds like a question.
"Mostly." She replies with a nod, "You're still here, aren't you?"
The because you wouldn't be if he didn't goes unsaid, but Cyrus hears it anyway.
"What about you?" Cyrus asks curiously, "Do you trust me?"
"Like I said, Cy," Liv says as she stands up to head back to the bedroom, "You're still here, aren't you?"
She goes back to the bedroom and sleeps for three or four of hours after that, until she's woken up by Ger's voice.
"Dad, can we go play with Uncle James and Uncle Cyrus?" Gerry asks, and Liv yawns as she wakes herself up to see how long they have left on the flight. Just another ninety or so minutes now.
"Sure thing guys." Fitz says as the two of them clamber off of the bed and head immediately for the door, "Be good."
"We will!" Karen says happily as she pulls the door closed.
"Ugh, I'm so tired." Liv says, glad they're finally on their way home no matter how much fun they'd had exploring London over the past few days.
"Baby, are you alright?" Fitz asks with no small amount of concern, and Liv yawns again, curling up beside him under the duvet.
"I'm fine." She says honestly, smiling slightly at the feeling of his fingers stroking through her hair.
"Are you sure? Because I thought I heard you throwing up whilst the kids were asleep." He says, and she shrugs.
"It was just the turbulence. I've never been a great flier." She doesn't seem worried at all, and her relaxed attitude calms him a little - enough to drop it at least.
"Do you trust Callum?" Liv asks, changing the subject, in a tone that suggests she's not just arbitrarily asking the question.
"The aide?" Fitz clarifies, and when she nods, he replies, "Sure. I don't have any reason not to, at least."
Liv hums her agreement before slowly saying, "I heard him arguing with someone on the phone earlier, and he told me it was his new girlfriend, but I'm pretty sure he was lying to me."
"So maybe he's in the closet, and he panicked." Fitz offers, and Liv makes a non-commital maybe noise.
"Do you think we should be worried?" He asks her, sensing that she's more concerned about this than she's letting on.
"Not worried, just… en garde." Liv says finally, which seems to mollify him some.
November
Three weeks later Fitz is working late, reading over some of Rowan's security briefings when Cyrus walks in. He raises his hand from his side and Fitz realises he's holding something, which he throws down onto Fitz' desk atop his paperwork. It's a magazine - a copy of Vanity Fair, to be exact. Fitz just looks back up at Cyrus uncomprehendingly.
"Turn to page sixty." He instructs, and Fitz does, too tired to question it.
It's a well shot double page photograph of the entrance to the hotel they stayed at in London. On the right hand page, Olivia, with a sleeping Karen propped on her left hip, her purse hooked on her opposite shoulder and Gerry holding her right hand and walking next to her, walks away from the camera and into the hotel with her head held high in spite of the wall of photographers on the opposite page.
Written over the left side of the photograph in red, white and blue typography, is the words "She's a Girlfriend, a Lawyer, a de-facto-step-Mother and the Girl Next Door, and She's Doing it All in Five Inch Heels: The Woman Who's Leading The Charge To Re-Write Destiny."
He flips the page, scanning the pictures first (there's one of her in business mode, typing on her phone as she leaves her meeting with the Ambassador, one of her in Mommy mode, mid delighted shriek as she, Gerry and Karen all go down a playground slide at the same time, and a third of the two of them, a candid shot of the them both standing at the bar at their first public appearance together - he knows exactly when it must have been taken, too; his hand is as low on her back as it could be, and she's smirking at him over her shoulder, when they'd been baiting each other about his fidelity) and reads;
Olivia Pope is, by all accounts, a smart, beautiful, mysterious and charming woman. If you haven't heard yet, she's also dating the President of the United States.
To give you some background on the woman who seems to have captured President Grant's heart, she's certainly no wallflower. She's twenty nine years old as of last month, but had already begun to amass a fearsome reputation in political circles by the time she entered her sophomore year of graduate school (Georgetown University), and has been much credited with saving her then-boss' ultimately successful Presidential campaign following his high profile though famously amicable divorce from ex-wife Mellie St. James.
Though little is known about Pope's personal life pre-college, we know that before she attended Princeton University (from which she graduated a year early as Valedictorian with a degree in Political Science) she attended Saint Anne's and Surval Mentreux, two of the best boarding schools in the country. She later went on to work for Fuller and Corcoran, a biglaw firm who specialise in high profile criminal cases - though she resigned six weeks after returning from the campaign trail. Three weeks later she was announced as being a Director within Grant's administration - his Director of Communications to be exact.
She held the position - highly successfully, it's well worth mentioning - from January 20th, when Grant was inaugurated into office, until July 26th, when she quietly resigned. In an intriguing turn of events, no one was hired to replace her; instead parts of the job were divided up amongst several other positions within the Public Relations department of the White House, and it's no secret that Pope has been seen to be involved with certain aspects of her old job despite her official resignation.
Now, baring all of that in mind, we know Olivia Pope to be well educated, ambitious and successful career wise. Her personal life, though mysterious due to how little we really know about it, doesn't carry the stench of a quick dry cover up to make her acceptable potential-First-Lady-material. For four years Pope was involved in a serious relationship with Senator Edison Davis, who some say she was engaged to for the last few months of the relationship. Though it's not clear why it ended, it doesn't seem to carry any drama or bitterness, with Penelope Hall, a former classmate and friend of hers telling VANITY FAIR exclusively, "It wasn't some crazy scandal or anything, they just grew apart."
Adding that to the pile, whilst it's possible Pope has a taste for the distinguished, older gentleman (Davis was twelve years her senior, whilst President Grant is twenty years older than her), it's clear that Pope isn't the 'grin and bear it' political wife type we're used to seeing on the arm of DC's power players.
Next on the menu, and in order to properly examine her we must at least discuss it, is Pope's newest job: parenting. She was spotted out in public with President Grant's children by ex-wife Mellie St. James, Fitzgerald "Gerry" Grant IV, 9, and Karen, 5, multiple times during the couple's trip to the United Kingdom in November, including flying with them from Washington DC to London to meet the Prime Minister and his wife, indicating a seriously high exchange of trust between not only Grant and Pope, but Pope and the two children also.
Finally, though it's understandably a delicate subject, we must also touch on what - to some naysayers - is the biggest label worn by Pope: African-American. As long as the American Federal Government, and the roles of POTUS and FLOTUS have existed as we know it, there has never been an interracial couple in the White House. It would likely be - though still talked about - talked about much less frequently, if the President were a liberal - or indeed, a democrat. Instead we find ourselves watching the unique coupling of a young black woman choosing to become romantically involved with the head of a political party not exactly known for their appealing stance on civil rights and equality.
The Position of First Lady is, in and of itself, something of an outdated tradition: the product of a bygone era what a woman's only job was to know her place - and to know that that place was beside her man in public, behind him when he was working, and beneath him in the bedroom. These days, women all over the world are standing up and shattering glass ceilings left right and centre - and it seems Olivia Pope is no exception to that.
Between President Grant's socially liberal brand of Republicanism, which seems to be resonating with young people across the country, and Olivia Pope's unapologetic refusal to be pigeon-holed into any of her many roles and labels, it looks to me like this great nation of ours may well be on the verge of a much needed upheaval - and I for one can't wait to see how it plays out.
"We need to keep working this angle." Cyrus tells him when he lets the magazine fall closed, "The whole damn country is going to be eating out of the palm of your hands if we play this right."
"Play what right?" Liv asks, stepping into the office dressed in a dark blue pantsuit, a cream silk shell top and a pair of her signature heels (today's are cream, to match her shirt, with the famous red soles), a Blackberry in one hand and a stack of files propped in her other arm.
Fitz flips the magazine back open to the double page photograph and holds it out to her. She crosses the room, setting down her phone atop her files on his desk and examining what he's handed her. After a moment she flips the page and speed reads the article.
"Could be worse." Liv observes, which is practically a ringing endorsement from her, "What do you think, Mr. President, can you handle being with a woman who's-" she defers to the article and then quotes, "leading the charge on re-writing destiny?"
"We both know I can handle you just fine." Fitz says, and she smirks at him, thinking of his latest obsession with having her somehow restrained, be that because she's tied up, handcuffed or held down in the bedroom (and in the shower, and in his office, and in the motorcade).
"You can handle me because I let you handle me." Liv shoots back, and Cyrus sighs audibly, reminding them both of his presence.
"It's pretty much the best narrative we could have hoped for." Liv says then, to keep the conversation on track, points out, "If we can take this idea they're offering of us as this magical, loving couple with old manners and new ideas and run with it, and make sure we don't do anything to derail it, this is the kind of image we could ride to another four years."
"So don't do anything to derail it." Cyrus orders them cheerfully, "No public arguments, no surprise baby and no sex tape." He pauses, looking deadly serious, "If you can manage that, we should be all set."
"We can do that, no problem." Fitz says with an easy shrug.