Disclaimer: Shondaland/ABC owns these characters. But I've taken the Gladiator oath as a writer: #OLITZ4LIFE #JAM #MellieDead
That was a Public Service Announcement for any accidental non-Olitz readers
Jerry was waiting when they entered their room; seated on the bed, his head lowered and shoulders slumped forward. But the instant they entered, he sprang to his feet, asking gruffly, "Is it true? The kid who said he was me, is it true he killed… her... because she got his dad killed?"
"Where did you hear that?" His dad frowned
"It's on some chatroom used by a bunch of guys who sell guns for a living."
"What the hell were you doing there?" Fitz glared at Jerry.
"Dad, chill, one of my friends read it and sent me the link." He glanced from Fitz to Olivia. "They're saying the only reason the kid found out, was because Wifey Number One wanted Wifey Number Two dead?"
Fitz ran a hand over his face, looking at Olivia in weary resignation.
She reached for Jerry's hand. "Jer, the chatroom is just a gossip site. The Police are still investigating. It's too soon to know exactly what happened."
Jerry's eyes narrowed, then he released Olivia's hand and crushed her in a hug. "I'm glad you're okay," he muttered against her cheek.
Olivia patted his back, then smiled when Fitz said drily, "Jer, you can let go of Liv, she needs to breathe."
Jerry released her, and turned to his dad. "So did you let that kid go?"
"No."
"Dad..."
"I can't encourage vigilantes."
"Jeez, Dad, you can be so lame sometimes."
"Yeah, that's me - your lame, boring, I-have-the-right-to-ground-you Dad. Now get out of here because Livvie and I haven't slept in two nights."
"You slept the night before. There were witnesses to your snoring. It's Mom who needs sleep. Maybe you should go sleep in another room, so she can rest."
"Out."
"Hey, I'm just trying to help."
"Out. Now."
"Okay, okay, I'm going. Gone!" He yelled through the door after he'd left the room.
Olivia snuffled a laugh sliding her arms around his waist. "He's right there were witnesses to your snoring."
"I don't appreciate you siding with that delinquent," Fitz muttered, with a mock frown.
She smiled standing on tiptoe to kiss him, and he dipped his head to meet her half way.
"We aren't ever going to tell them what happened, are we?" she whispered against his mouth.
"Never."
Then he chuckled as she broke away on a huge yawn.
"Play time is over for you," he kissed her nose. "It's strictly nap time now."
"I don't want to move," she sighed, hugging him.
"Let me do all the work." He smiled, untying her scarf, then unbuttoning her coat, before taking off her jacket and top.
"Okay?" he asked, pausing to give her a gentle kiss.
"Yes," she sighed, eyes drifting shut as his hands caressed her back. "Nice…"
He continued the gentle slide of his hands over her back until he saw her trying to hide another yawn. Then he made speedy work of removing the rest of her clothing, including her boots. Then heard her gasp when he planted a wet kiss on the soft swell of her belly, before he stood up to pick her up in his arms and carry her to bed.
"Maybe I'm not so tired after all," she whispered.
He chuckled huskily, laying her on the sheets before carefully tucking her under the covers. "You need rest. You're yawning again and I would be crushed if you fell asleep on me, in the middle of my A-game."
She snuffled a laugh. "Why are you still dressed?" She tugged at his tie, as he leaned over her, brushing her hair tenderly from her face.
"I have a few things I need to do, and then I'll be back." He gave her one last kiss, before getting off the bed to begin picking her clothes off the floor. By the time, he'd placed them on a chair, she was already fast asleep.
"Hey, Pumpkin." Fitz tracked down his daughter playing with Teddy in the nursery and he joined them, lying down on the rug. "Hey, little man." He tickled Teddy's cheek, smiling when the toddler gurgled but continued to play with his truck.
Karen looked at her father, then placing her hands over Teddy's ears, she whispered, "Is she dead?"
Fitz looked at her solemnly, then held out his arms and she scrambled forward to cuddle against him.
"Yes, she is." He kissed the top of her head. "How do you feel?"
"I'm not sad."
"It's okay, if you did feel sad. She was your Mom."
"I don't feel sad," Karen insisted fiercely. "And she's not my Mom."
"Okay."
"Is Aunt Liv okay?"
"Yes, she's asleep now. But you can sneak in and see her if you want," Then a thought struck, "But, uh, don't move the quilt. She might get cold."
Karen looked at him with that 42-year-old expression he found disconcerting, but then she surprised him by saying, "Daddy, Jer is calling Aunt Liv 'Mom', can I do that too?"
"Yes, pumpkin, you can," Fitz smiled, giving his daughter a hug. "Liv would love that."
Fitz wasn't expecting to see Rowan in the corridor, waiting for him as he stepped out of Teddy's room.
"How is my daughter?"
"She's resting."
"Is Olivia a suspect in your wife's murder?"
"No."
"Then why did they take her in for questioning?"
"They took her in to question the boy who shot Mellie. He wanted to speak to her."
"Why?"
"It's complicated," Fitz muttered.
"Well, Mr Grant, why don't you tell me how complicated it is," Rowan smiled.
Biting back a groan, Fitz nodded.
As they walked down the corridor, Rowan murmured, "Just as a matter of interest, are the kids in this house exempted from going to school?"
"No of course not," Fitz defended, felling like a parent of truant children, being questioned by the principal. "They've been granted a special dispensation. Both Jerry and Karen will be starting school in DC next year, and I didn't want them returning to Virginia or Andover after Thanksgiving. In hindsight, I'm glad I did that. I wouldn't want them to be on their own at a time like this."
They walked in silence for a few minutes, then Rowan said, "And have you officially adopted Peter into this family? I ask because Olivia is a successful career woman, and I don't know how happy she'll be as a mother hen to an increasing brood."
The smile that had emerged at the initial question, instantly vanished after the added comment and Fitz scowled. "Livvie loves the kids, even Peter. But I haven't adopted him, much as I'd like to. Peter's parents and the school are letting him stay with us until Christmas – I believe it is not celebrated by his family who are of a different faith. He'll be flying home to be with his parents for New Year, and he'll be returning to Andover at the start of the new term. But I've told Peter to consider this his home for the holidays."
There was another silence, then Rowan said, "I like Peter, he's a smart boy."
"Yes, he is."
"Just like Jerry, except Jerry is a smart boy with a smart mouth. He needs discipline."
Fitz gave an exasperated frown. "He gets plenty of discipline. He's been grounded so often, his room probably feels like a holding cell."
"He needs direction as well as discipline – have you considered getting him involved in charity work: helping out at a food bank or looking after abandoned animals. He is very protective of the people he loves, he just needs to put that passion to good use."
This time the silence was lengthier, then Fitz glanced at the other man out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe you should consider staying with us permanently, once you move to DC."
Rowan looked at him and smiled, "I am almost tempted to accept, knowing how thrilled both my daughter and your son will be to hear of your invitation."
After Fitz had telling Rowan the edited version of what happened at Police Headquarters, a White House aide came hurrying to tell him that Morris at the gate needed to speak to him urgently.
"Sir, we've got Ms Pope's staff here wanting to talk to you, but they haven't been cleared by the Secret Service, so I can't let them through."
"Get Tom – he knows them well enough to make a visual ID, then let them through. I'll be waiting in the Green Room."
As soon as they were shown into the room where Fitz was waiting, Abby burst out, "What is going on? Did that bitch really try to kill Liv?"
"I see you've been frequenting the same chat rooms as my son."
"Chatroom? We haven't been on any chatroom!"
"We have contacts. Official contacts who told us what was going on," Harrison added.
"And we want to make sure she's all right," Quinn explained.
Fitz gave them a level look, then indicated for them to be seated. "She's resting now. It's been a hellish couple of days and I don't want her disturbed." He paused, before adding, "I need the gossip floating around to be shut down. What you know is not common knowledge, and I'd like it to stay that way. Can you do something about that?"
"Are you trying to get yourself hired as a client? Because we charge a fee," Abby glared at him.
"We'll see what we can do," Harrison said, adding under the blaze of Abby's outraged stare. "We'll do our best to protect your reputation. It's what Liv would want us to do."
"I'm thinking about my kids. There are things I don't want them to know about their mother."
There was a shift in tension among the group, then Quinn said quickly, "Of course, we'll do everything we can. You can count on us."
The others nodded even Abby, and Huck who was watching in silence.
"Thank you," Fitz said gruffly, then he stood up. "If you're free tomorrow, you're all invited to dinner with the family. I'll get the necessary clearances organised, and Morris will be able to let you through without a hold-up."
"I don't eat meat," Huck said grimly.
"I'll make sure the chef has a meat alternative on the menu."
"I don't eat chicken either."
When Fitz eventually made it to the Oval Office, he found his Cabinet and advisors waiting with grave expressions on their faces.
Fitz paused, "This is a surprise."
After a glance around the room, Cyrus said, "We're not sure if condolences or congratulations are in order, sir."
"At this precise moment I'm not sure either," Fitz said wryly. "It's not a secret that Mellie and I didn't have the most amicable end to our marriage, but her death is a tragic shock."
"Why did the kid shoot her?"
"The matter is still under investigation but I would like to keep the circumstances under wraps, for the sake of my children. What I can say is that Olivia was able to get the boy to tell us why he impersonated my son in order to shoot Mellie."
"Will he be tried as an adult?"
"The boy has accepted a plea sentence of 15 years in a juvenile corrections facility and we have Olivia and the boy's lawyer to thank for getting a speedy resolution." Then he glanced around the room. "As a direct result of what happened last night, we're tightening security around here and changing the protocols for access involving all non-White House staff. This will be tedious but your families and friends will be just as welcome at the White House as they have been before; but we need them to go through a few extra steps before we can let them in."
There was a ripple of polite laughter, then Cyrus said, "We're flying the flag at half-mast today."
"Thank you."
"We have the usual official condolences from heads of government, but there's been no outpouring of grief from the public." He paused then asked delicately, "Will there be a… state funeral?"
"No, Mellie's body will be flown to Virginia to be buried in the family cemetery on the Watson estate. If it can be communicated that her funeral will be private, for family only, I would appreciate it."
"We'll see to it."
Fitz accepted the handshakes and hugs from everyone who made indistinct soothing noises on the way out of the office, until only Cyrus remained.
"Did I miss any meetings today, Cy?"
"Oh just a couple – one with the King of Jordan and another with the Wall Street CEOs, but they were very understanding. Sally Langston has flown the King of Jordan and his family to spend the weekend at her ranch in Georgia. And the Wall Street guys are meeting with the Treasury Secretary and the White House Council of Economic Advisors." Cyrus paused, then asked after a quick glance over his shoulder, "So how are you feeling?"
"Deeply relieved."
The room was dark and there was a stillness that indicated The White House was in sleep mode. All except for the woman Fitz held in his arms; from her breathing he knew she was awake.
"Hi," he said in a voice rough with sleep.
"Hi."
He felt her smile before she pressed a kiss on his shoulder. Keeping her secure with one arm, he reached out the other to switch on the bedside lamp, then swept the hair from her face tenderly. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not long."
"How are you feeling?"
"Good… relieved… happy." She hugged him tightly, then asked after a pause, "How are you feeling?"
"Happy, relieved, good."
They laughed softly, sharing a kiss. He parted her lips gently, tasting her sweetness with a lazy tongue, smiling when he heard her breath hitch, followed by a soft moan.
"Am I permitted to use my leasing rights for recreational purposes?" he growled as his hand smoothed up her body to cover a breast, massaging gently.
"What...?" She moaned arching into his palm
He shifted, sliding a knee between her thighs then chuckled when her fingers clawed through his hair, and dragged him down to her breast.
He figured this was as good a time as any to break it to her.
"Livvie, I've asked your dad and Felicia to come live with us." Then he instantly regretted the impulse, when her whole body stilled and she glared down at him.
"...What?!"
A/N: To everyone who has hung on until this chapter: THANK YOUUUUUUUUU for being on this Manic journey - you have made the tail-end of 2013 joyous (without a need for the usual medication). And even though it rained companions for Cat & Dog, I've had the best start to the New Year, writing and re-reading your comments for the..Umm...I don't know... zillionth time ;))))
So this is the end of A Presidential Divorce. Part II starts next - A Presidential Election...
At this point I thought I'd share some things I've learned about writing and 'publishing' daily:
1) I can't edit the life out of Chapter One, in the process of writing chapters 2,3,4...36
2) I write the first crazy idea I get, no time to replace it with a more 'sensible' one
3) I haven't had time to think of a 'better (other) story' half way through this story
4) I haven't had time to forget where I started from or where I'm going (i.e. spell the lead character's name five different ways)
5) Best of all: I have kept minimal contact with friends and family for more than a month (YASSSS!)
Sadly though I may need to take a few days off to I recover from RSI and to show Proof of Life to the people I've blissfully avoided...
So until we meet again on this site...let me leave you with #11 on the list of Top-100-funny-quotes-of-all-time on the quotery website (yes, that's as far as I got) : Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit: wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad - Miles Kington
Actually I've changed my mind about leaving just yet. Not until I've shared this about the first story-teller in my life: my grandfather.
For years, until I started 'proper' schooling, my grandfather had to tell me a story at lunch time or I would refuse to eat. (Yes I was a brat and he was wonderful), but what still amazes me is that he always had a story to tell – and not one of them was about a princess who needed rescuing by a prince. My grandfather was born in the year 1900.
On that note, lots of hugs and platonic kisses... Until later, peoples...;)))