Love Letters Straight From Your Heart

by jollybelucky

AU: Camille Pope was born after Olivia had a drunken one-night stand with Fitz. A freak accident has left Olivia fighting for her life and Camille will come face to face with her father for the first time! Angst-ridden drama. Disclaimer: This is a work of Fan Fiction using characters from the 'Scandal' world, trademarked by Shonda Rhimes and The Walt Disney/ABC Company.

35. Chap 19 All Fur Coat and No Knickers 3

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'.

AN: Hello there! Thanks for the lovely reviews and PMs. I didn't mean to take so long with this update. But during the writing process, I found myself going in circles and wasn't happy with the first draft. I decided to get a second opinion from the wonderful justafan51, whose critical advice and support proved invaluable. Girl, you're amazing, and I'm ever so grateful to you for giving up your spare time to help out. I dedicate this update to you.

All Fur Coat and No Knickers Part 3

Do you know the enemy?

Do you know the enemy?

Well gotta' know the enemy ohaooh!

Know Your Enemy – Green Day

---

"Kop-kun ka," said Karen, thanking the taxi driver, in Thai, and handed over a thousand bahts note.

The local man nodded in approval at the tourist, making an effort to converse with him in his native tongue. "Kop kun kurp," he replied, revealing a gap-tooth smile.

Karen put up her hand to refuse the change; and the two friendly strangers parted company.

The mid-afternoon sun and suffocating humidity took Karen's breath away as she alighted from the taxi onto Wireless Road, in Bangkok. She instantly wrinkled her nose as her senses were under assault from the city's distinctive aromas. Peering through the passing pedestrians she saw the white building, and then her eyes flickered over to the blue uniformed Marine Guards and smiled with satisfaction, knowing she had arrived at the right place, the American Embassy. She made her way to white building's entrance. She felt her cell vibrating against her trouser-clad thighs, which slowed her pace, and slipping her hand inside her pocket, she fished out her cell phone.

"Hello."

"Hello, Karen, it's me, Ger."

"Hey you, what's up early bird?" Bangkok was ten hours ahead of Santa Barbara and she concluded it must be early in the morning.

"Can you talk?"

"Yeah. Shoot!"

Gerry took a steadying breath and confessed. "I've been in a fight."

Karen came to an abrupt halt and jabbed a finger in her ear. "Who's the asshole that dared lay a finger on my little brother?" she demanded to know.

"It's no big deal… me and a few buddies decided to drive down to San Diego, there was this one guy, a friend of a friend, that started cracking jokes about Dad and Olivia."

"Oh," replied Karen, apprehensively. "Go on."

"He called Dad a nigger lover."

Karen winced as a sharp pain arrowed through her chest. "Christ, Gerry, did anyone see you?"

Gerry snorted in disgust. "You sound like Dad. Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

"Sorry, I didn't mean... are you okay? No concussion, broken bones or cracked ribs?"

"No Dr. Grant. But I got an earful from Dad about my thug life behavior and he ordered me back home!"

"Does Mom know?"

"Uh-huh."

Karen's stomach started fluttering with nerves. "And, what did she say?"

"I thought she'd hit the roof, but she asked if I was okay and told me to look after myself."

"Our Mother?" questioned Karen, furrowing her brow suspiciously. It didn't seem plausible. "No screaming lecture?"

"Nope, she took it a lot better than I expected."

"Who else knows?"

"Dad called Olivia's people and they've been working on the case. Quinn Perkins? I think her name is? She's on her way to see his parents."

"When the chips are down," sighed Karen, gratefully.

"Right," concurred Gerry, in total agreement. "I think it's gonna work out okay. Douglas was there to break up the fight and confiscated a couple people's cell phones, trying to make a production out of it."

"Gerry, do you wanna end up on Perez Hilton or TMZ homepage? Imagine -"

"Oh, here we go," interrupted Gerry harshly, his voice loaded with sarcasm and resentment. "I thought you of all people would be on my side!"

"It's not about sides Gerry, none of us need the unwanted publicity. Dad made the right call, asking OPA to help out. You're lucky they were around, there's a good chance you'll dodge this bullet!"

"I guess you would know all about dodging bullets, eh big sis?" he sneered facetiously.

An icy sensation swept over Karen. "Thanks for bringing that up," she muttered bitterly.

"Don't try and guilt-trip me, Karen. I'm fucking tired of everyone blaming me. I didn't set out to be a troublemaker and go looking for a fight."

The conversation lapsed and a strained silence grew between the normally loquacious siblings.

Karen was hurt. Gerry's spiteful retort brought back bad memories of her wild partying days at Lawrenceville. At the start of Fitz's booze-induced haze - after Olivia left DC - Karen was involved in an incident at a house party with a local drug dealer that could have resulted in her serving time in a juvenile detention center. Thanks to the ever-efficient OPA, Karen had been saved the humiliation and her secret kept under wraps. No one in the family knew expect Gerry and his untimely reminder made her regret her decision to confide in him.

"Care-Bear," began Gerry his voice full of regret. He knew he taken his personal grievance with his father a step too far and upset his sister.

"What?" she snapped.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. You know I would never say anything to anyone. I'm just so fucking pissed off with Dad, acting like he's a fucking saint. I thought he'd be pleased I stood up for the family, 'hey son well done, thanks for looking out for us' But instead I get an earful of bullshit 'you weren't thinking, you're selfish' – can you believe him?"

"Whatever Dad said, deep down you know he's proud of you. I think it amazing what you did, but under the circumstances... you gotta appreciate Dad's going through a difficult time. He's been under a lot of pressure for weeks, Olivia's cruel accident and getting to know Camille hasn't been easy. I'm not blaming her or anything, I'm just saying, think about his interview with Kimberly Mitchell, she went at him with a sledgehammer, and the whole country has turned against him. Dad might appear tough and in control, but he's really vulnerable right now."

Gerry let out a begrudging snort. "No-one forced him to cheat on Mom."

"I know," agreed Karen gravely.

"I never thought I'd ever be put in this position. Is this gonna be my life now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Feeling mad enough, to smack someone for saying the N-word, it's not me, Karen."

"But it is you," Karen confirmed, hoping Gerry would pick up her well-meaning accolade. "Olivia is unofficially our step-mom and we've got a black sister."

"Biracial," corrected Gerry. "And you would have knocked Zack out. Do I have to remind you, about my older sister that used to practice her dead arm technique on me, and left me with bruises for days?" reminisced Gerry, wittily.

They both cracked up laughing. Gerry's barbed comment a vague memory as they took a moment to enjoy a fun childhood memory.

Gerry suddenly sobered up. "Between you and me, I started worrying I done the wrong thing, but I saw red, Karen. I couldn't let him get away with it. I lost it. Did you hear about that young black kid who got shot by the Neighborhood Watch guy?"

"Yeah, I read about it online."

"The guy's claiming he thought the boy was up to no good and made a judgment call. Shoot first and ask questions later. It makes you think what others have to put up just 'cause of the color of their skin."

"Thinking of specializing in civil right law?"

Gerry exhaled wearily. "That's not what I'm saying, I'm saying, Drake or J Cole can get away with using the word in their songs, or amongst their crew, but not in the real world. I'm not gonna lie, the word's slipped out when I've been listening to a tune... what does it say about me? Cam's real sweet. She doesn't deserve to be thought of like that."

"In the situation you were in, no one does. I don't know if I'd have been brave enough to respond like you did," Karen told her brother honestly. His mindset boded well for the future of their family's collective spirit.

"I took Cam for her first riding lesson, yesterday," confirmed Gerry.

"Yikes! Did you school her in the infamous Grant Family Initiation?" Karen remembered her first lesson at five years old, with her father and grandfather.

"You betcha! She wasn't too impressed, but got stuck in. I loaned her pair of your ol' boots, is that alright?"

Karen sniffed haughtily, basically saying to him, 'do you even have to ask?'

"You guys getting along?"

"Yeah, we are, she's closer to TT."

"They're the little ones, it's easier. Plus, TT doesn't have the baggage of our parents or society," remarked Karen pragmatically.

"You still on for Saturday?"

"Uh-huh, yeah."

Gerry detected a hint of vagueness. "You don't sound too sure?"

"No, no, no," she replied hastily. "I am. I'm sorry Ger, but I've got an appointment in fifteen minutes."

"That's cool, I better go, they're waiting downstairs for me. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before you spoke to Mom or Dad."

"Message received and understood. I'll call you later?"

"Sure, bye."

"Look after yourself. I love you, Ger."

"Ditto. Bye."

---

Karen bit her lip as she looked at her handset. She didn't like lying to Gerry but she felt she had no choice.

Fortunately for Karen, her replacement had arrived yesterday and Karen's team leader gave her permission to leave. With this in mind, she called one of her former school friends she was still in touch with, Chloe Levin. Chloe's father Harvey Levin was the current American Ambassador to Thailand and Karen wanted his assistance in helping her leave Bangkok in relative anonymity.

The current family crisis gripping her home country didn't have the same level of interest in Thailand so she was able travel around without attraction too much attention. However, landing on US soil was a different proposition. She wanted to arrive under the radar and avoid the paparazzi.

Under normal circumstances, Karen would've shared her plans with Gerry - things were obviously heating up for her brother home – but she didn't want to disappoint him if she couldn't pull off an early return to LA.

Karen never wanted to be back home so badly in all her life, and prayed Mr. Levin could make her wish come true.

---

4am San Diego

Secret service agent, Douglas was standing in the forecourt of the apartment. He was talking on his phone and keeping a well-trained eye on the three teenagers a few hundred yards away, loading their possessions into an SUV.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come back with you?" asked a dismayed-looking Riley.

The rest of the partying friends were asleep, which was a relief because there was no escaping the somber mood in the apartment.

Gerry, with the help of his best buddy Bradley, was securing his surfboard to the roof of their vehicle. "No, I'm good. You stay here, with your guests," he snapped moodily. He aggressively tied a perfection loop and tugged the rope a few times to ensure the board was secure.

"This whole weekend is ruined," she said tearfully, wiping her bloodshot eyes.

Riley was torn. On the one hand she wanted to support and leave with Gerry, but on the other, Alex was her first cousin and Zack's best friend. Post-fight he'd been creating a stink and she wanted to pacify him and the rest of the group, so things wouldn't spiral of control.

Gerry sighed deeply. He walked slowly over to Riley and rested his hands on her hips. "We'll hook up soon?"

"When's soon?"

"I dunno I've got to speak to my parents, first."

"Do you think you'll make the Coachella Festival?"

Gerry shook his head. He couldn't entertain the idea of another trip after this unmitigated disaster.

"G-Man!" called out Bradley. "You ready bro?" A tall lanky sandy-haired teenager appeared from the other side of the car. Dressed in multi-colored surfer shorts and t-shirt featuring the character, Daryl Dixon, from The Waking Dead television show. He came sauntering towards the couple, sporting a big cheesy grin.

Gerry let go of Riley. She turned and smiled weakly at Bradley. "Look after him."

Bradley flipped his head in a pointless attempt to keep his floppy unkempt hair out of his eyes. "Yes, boss!" and mockingly saluted at Riley. She shot him down with the roll of her eyes and turned to face Gerry. "Call me when you get home?"

Gerry pecked her on the cheek. "Uh-huh."

Douglas strode towards Gerry and his friends. He tipped his head in the kid's direction and Gerry knew it was time to get moving. "Yeah, let's get out of this place."

---

Afternoon at the hospital.

"Hey Gabrielle, everything go to plan?" asked Fitz, standing outside Dr. Ramen's office.

"Perfectly. We landed just after three pm and were met by Jed and Andy. We're flying down the beltway on our way home."

"Camille and I are at the hospital, and I'm about to attend a meeting with the doctor," he explained.

"I'll let you go. Sir, before you go, did you still want me to set everything up in the room?"

"Yes. Jed has the instructions. I'll see you later this afternoon."

Ending his call, Fitz considered the doctor waiting for him. He hated keeping folks waiting but he wanted to make another call. Since their earlier stormy conversation, Fitz had not been able to get hold of Gerry. Despite calling back several times, he kept getting his son's answer phone. Placing his phone to his ear the result was the same. He got Gerry's answer service and recorded message: Gerry Grant. If you don't leave a message, I'll never know you called.

Fitz shook his head in mild frustration and switched off his cell. He knocked on Dr. Ramen's door and was immediately granted access. Entering, Fitz saw the doctor standing next to a portly bald man he'd never seen before.

"Mr. Grant, please come in. Is Camille with her mother?"

"Yes, she's singing One Direction songs to her," laughed Fitz.

"That's what we like to hear," chortled the doctor. "Mr. Grant thanks for coming to see me. I'll like to introduce you to Dr. Marc Bergner, MD. PHD. He's the Head Neurosurgeon at the Assaf Harofeh Medical Center in Israel. We worked together before I came to the States three years ago."

Fitz smiled. "Doctor Bergner, it's good to meet you."

They shook hands.

"It's an honor Mr. Grant," replied the other doctor.

"Dr. Bergman has twenty-five years experience working with coma patients. He and his colleagues at the University of Tel A Viv and Assaf Harofeh Medical Centre pioneered the idea of administering high doses/levels of hyperbaric oxygen – high levels of oxygen - in a pressurized cabin to coma patients when they're first admitted into hospital. This method allows oxygen to absorb deeper into brain tissues, reviving dormant nerve cells and reactivating blood vessels and helps to ensure no further damage immediately after a head injury. My team consult with him from time to time, and fortunately for us, he's over here visiting the University of Pittsburgh and is now on his way to the University of San Francisco, and very kindly agreed to stop by."

"That's correct, guest lecturer to young minds that want to dissect other minds," Dr. Bergner joked lightly.

"Please, let's all be seated," Dr. Ramen, suggested. He led them to a nearby small round table. Taking their seats, Fitz noticed Olivia's medical file in front of Dr. Ramen.

The doctor tapped the file. "I took it upon myself to discuss Olivia's condition with Marc. I trust you have no objections."

"No, I have no objections," confirmed Fitz.

Dr. Ramen removed some of the contents. "What we're looking at is Olivia's CAT scans, charting her brain waves patterns. This first one, was taken three weeks ago, this is from yesterday… look carefully at this lines, the steadier lines you can see in the last two reports, confirms her patterns are normalizing; and Marc believes she could benefit from the use of our pressurized cabin."

"Is this usual? You just said the cabin is used when a patient is first admitted."

"Mr. Grant, if I may," interjected Dr. Bergman, politely. "I'll be perfectly honest with you, it is not, but in recent months we've been practicing the use of hyperbaric oxygen with coma patients at various stages of their condition, with some success. Due to her injury, length of time in a coma and latest report, I'm convinced, this option is the best approach."

Fitz acknowledged Dr. Bergman's opinion with a respectful nod before turning to Dr. Ramen. "The other night, you mentioned deep brain stimulation therapy?"

"We're still going to ahead with DBST, the use of the pressurized cabin will happen in the interim."

"When exactly are you planning this?"

"To keep to our time table, we need to move fast. With your permission, tomorrow morning," he stated firmly.

Fitz ears pricked up. He was instantly alerted to the doctor's slight pause. "Doctor, should I be worried? I mean any more than I already am?"

The doctor softly chortled and firmly shook his head. "No you don't need to worry. The reason I called you aside is out of concern for Camille."

Fitz frowned at Dr. Ramen.

The doctor cleared his throat and returned Fitz's perplexed look with a confident smile. "Let me explain, the equipment we'll be using for DBST therapy will be set up in Olivia's room. Electric wires are implanted under the skin, similar to a cardiac pacemaker and sometimes this can be upsetting for a young person, particularly a close family member to witness. In light of the current media intrusion into Camille's life, the last thing we want to do is alarm or frightened her. During the procedure it's not uncommon for coma patients to have a physically response that doesn't result in the patient regaining full consciousness. Olivia's eyes may flutter or she might move her arm or leg. Seeing a coma patient react under treatment, can sometimes give family and friends false hope. There's an expectation, which can be hugely disappointing if the patient doesn't fully wake up right away or over the new few days."

Fitz let out an elongated sigh of relief. "You want to err on the side of caution. I understand doctor and value you speaking to me privately."

What with Gerry's shenanigans, Fitz feared the worse. But the doctor just wanted to prepare him, so he could protect Camille and the rest of the family from additional heartache.

Both doctors smiled sympathetically at Fitz. "If you're agreeable, I would advise only medical staff and yourself are present for tomorrow morning, and you should discuss the first DBST session with your family. I have leaflets and support staff should you wish to confer with someone."

Disappointed spilled from Fitz's eyes and he nodded somberly.

Dr. Bergman chimed in. "Sir, what people tend to forget is any operation minor or serious carries complications… the surgical procedure your wife underwent could have led to organ failure, cardiac arrhythmias but she came through strong. Olivia's fall is an anoxic brain injury, and these patients do have a higher rate of recovery."

"Thank you."

"Let's take you to the room and Dr. Bergman and I can talk you through the equipment and procedure?" offered Dr. Ramen.

"Yes," agreed Fitz. "I'd like that." Best to be positive. Olivia was still making progress. Camille's gift had arrived safely. The beach brawl had gone unreported in the news. Quinn was currently negotiating with Mr. and Mrs. Hollister. And surprisingly, Mellie hadn't gone nuclear about Gerry's fight. The only stickling point was Gerry. Yet, there was still plenty to feel positive about.

---

"Hey sweetheart, where's your father?" asked Stephen, as he entered Olivia's room.

"Uncle Stephen, you're back. Dr. Ramen wanted to speak to him, alone. Did Mr. Beane get to the airport okay, where's Abby?"

"Yes, no flight delay, and Abby's back at the house to catch up on some well earned rest. What you up to?"

"Not much, just been singing to Mom," she said, gazing fondly at her Mommy.

"I thought I heard dogs howling," teased Stephen.

Camille stuck out her tongue. Stephen tried to catch it between his fingers and she dodged out of his reach.

Laughingly, Stephen told her, "Your father said Mrs. Grant took the news about Gerry well."

"Yeah, he told me she said: Gerry had every right to defend his family against any kind of abuse being aimed at us. She had a message for me too, thanking me for the cupcakes and hoped I was alright and not to worry."

Stephen's eyebrows arched in openly surprise. "She did?"

Camille glowed with happiness and was shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm surprise too." She wanted to pinch herself. "I can't believe it."

Neither can I, thought the cynic in Stephen. However, not wishing to let his true distrust of Mellie show and worry Camille unnecessarily, he carried on smiling brightly.

They chatted for five minutes, when there was a brief tap on the door and in walked Fitz.

"Hey, Stephen, Cy okay?"

"Yes, Cam was saying you were meeting with the doctor?"

"Uh-huh, they were talking me through Olivia's recent CAT scan, it's looking good…" Fitz strolled over to Olivia's bedside. His blue eyes radiated with love and warmth. "My girl's coming back to me," he said assertively.

"I believe she is," Stephen said in support of Fitz's encouraging words. "Have you managed to speak with Quinn?"

"No. I had to switch off my phone."

"She called me and I wanted to wait to give to both the good news. Mr. and Mrs. Hollister have agreed to have the whole incident hushed up," Stephen confirmed.

"YES!" exclaimed Camille. And instantly covered her mouth. "Sorry."

"I think Olivia would approve of you shouting just this once." Fitz went over to Stephen and took his hand. "Thank you. I'll call Quinn," he said gratefully, with a firm hand shake.

Fitz turned to Camille. She had started packing away her nightclothes.

"Camille, I need to speak privately with Stephen, can you step outside for a minute?"

Dropping her bag, she spun round and looked indignantly at Fitz "Why? I wanna know what's going on," she huffed, crossly.

"And you will," said Fitz in quietly firm tone. "But I'd like to need to speak to Stephen. Alone."

"It's not fair! You wouldn't let me come with you to when you went to see the doctor. I already know Quinn went to meet Zack's parents knowing if they played hardball she'd throw their deadbeat son's arrests in their face, and offer them money. So why are you keeping secrets, I'll find out sooner or later?"

Fitz quirked his eyebrows. "Camille, please wait outside. Now."

Disgruntled, Camille scowled at Fitz. She arrogantly flipped her head and turned to look at Stephen with assured eyes. One hundred percent confident, he'd back her up.

Fitz let out an irritated grunt. "Don't look at your uncle when I'm speaking to you."

Folding her arms across her chest, Camille stubbornly kept her eyes fixed on her uncle.

"I don't want to repeat myself," Fitz warned in dangerously low voice.

Camille's eyes grew to the size of saucers as Stephen merely shrugged indifferently and tilted his head approvingly in the direction of Fitz.

Stunned, Camille's head jerked, ready to show him, but the opposite happened. Caught off guard by Fitz's steely blue/grey eyes, she gulped loudly, and took a deep breath. Undone by the hard disciplinarian, no nonsense stare, she swallowing her anger and dropped the attitude.

Fitz was holding his breath as Camille mumbled what sounded like 'fine' and quietly left the room. He didn't like reprimanding her. He was terrified of pushing her away, but that didn't mean letting her rule the roost. That's not to say he didn't let out a massive sigh of relief when she obeyed and the door clicked shut behind her.

Self-consciously, Fitz looked over at Stephen. "Did I go too far?"

The Brit replied with a broad grin. "Camille is a darling, but has a precocious side. Nothing wrong with clipping the little lady's wings once in a while." Stephen clucked. "I don't envy you though, two teenager kids on your back?"

Feeling like his ol' self, Fitz allowed himself a light-hearted moment. "Tack me up, and call me Seabiscuit."

Stephen chuckled. "At least you've not lost you sense of humor."

Fitz quirked his eyebrows, and then his face grew serious. "What's happening with the parents?"

"They tried to play hardball at first, saying they wanted to speak to their son before they sit down with Quinn. However, when the lovely Ms. Perkins produced a dossier on their son's less than savory activities, they agreed not to make a federal case out of it, even forgoing your generous medical expenses offer."

"Thank God, and thank you."

Stephen nodded. He cocked his head to one side. "Is there something else on your mind?"

"The doctors have had a rethink, and want to place Olivia in a pressurized cabin, so they can administer large doses of oxygen to her brain, tomorrow morning," announced Fitz, out of the blue.

"I don't quite understand," replied Stephen, furrowing his brow and looking worriedly at Olivia.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you. Her MRIreadings are good, stable, but it wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was due to have the stimulation treatment, but they think she'll fair better with this pressurized tank. I've just seen it."

"It is not unusual Fitz, for doctors to revise their initial prognosis … recovery times varies from patient to patient. Sounds to me as though this oxygen tank is a boost. They're making sure Olivia is prepared for the next stage. This is what you're paying for, a medical team on their game, and making sound decisions to get Olivia better," said Stephen confidently, gazing between Fitz and his best friend.

Fitz just wanted a second opinion. Someone he trusted to reassure him. "The doctors wanted to speak to me because the second stage of the treatment involves electric implants and Olivia may react and he wanted to warn me Camille might be distressed if Olivia has a physical reaction but doesn't regain full consciousness. They're worried it will give her false hope, and wanted me to speak to her before we attend the first session. But I'm going to be here, tomorrow morning, for the oxygen treatment."

"Smart thinking on their part. They have a wealth of experience in these matters. You aren't the first person to cope with this scenario. Do you intend on being present?"

"Yes. I'm going to come to the hospital tomorrow morning. And I'm hoping, if you'd be kind enough to bring the kids later on in the day to join me?"

"Absolutely, I'm more than happy to be of assistance. Fitz, I know you and I aren't as close as I am with Olivia and I'm leaving at the weekend. But if you ever want to talk, I'm a phone call away."

"Thank you, Olivia loves you and I consider you a friend. Be warned, the last man that offered to be a trusted confidante has lost most of his hair."

Stephen laughed and nodded with gratitude. He recognized Fitz was under immense pressure and that on occasion he viewed him as a threat. So it was with deep joy and satisfaction, Fitz held him in such high esteem. "When do you plan on telling the family?"

"Tomorrow after breakfast. There's no point causing unnecessary worry."

"Very wise."

---

Outside in the corridor, Camille was in the midst of grilling Tom.

"Do you have to be tall to be an agent?"

"Not necessarily."

"But it helps to look big, tall and menacing, yes?"

"I suppose it helps," he agreed.

"Do you ever smile?"

"Not on the job."

"Are sunglasses part of your uniform?"

"No."

"Do you think you look cool?"

"Yes."

Camille giggled. She liked stoic Tom.

"Do you like working for Mr. Grant?"

"Yes."

"Did you like working for Mrs. Grant."

Tom paused.

"Ooh, you didn't?" squealed Camille.

"She was assigned another agent called Hal."

"Where's he now?"

"He's working for Obama."

"Who's her agent now?"

Engrossed in her version of the Spanish Inquisition, Camille was unaware that Fitz was hanging his head outside Olivia's room and overhearing her conversation with his favorite agent.

"Hey you, stop bothering my secret service men," joked Fitz. "We're done. Do you wanna come in?"

"I better go," she told Tom, who nodded politely. She ran to him.

Fitz smiled kindly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shut you out."

Camille waved away his apology. "It's okay, you and my uncle were discussing big people business."

Fitz arched his eyebrows at her response. "Big people business?" he repeated, with amusement.

Camille softly snorted. "It's what Mom says when she thinks I'm getting too involved."

They both re-entered the rooms with happy faces, which made Stephen smile with visibly relief. "I'm going out on a limb here when I say Gerry must be back on at the ranch?"

"Yes, I need to update him on Zack's parents," clarified Fitz, raking his hand through his hair.

Stephen checked his wristwatch. "Under the circumstances, I think you guys need private family time. I'm happy to hold down the fort until Abby and Harrison arrive. I'll back later this evening. Does that suit you?"

"Sound good to me," agreed Fitz. "About my dinner invitation, because you're leaving on Saturday, I thought Friday evening?"

Stephen nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Camille collected her things and said a lovingly long goodbye to her Mom. She moved over to Stephen and tugged her uncle's sleeve. "We should leave," she whispered, knowing Fitz would want alone time to say his 'personal' goodbye to Olivia.

Exiting Olivia's room Fitz spotted Tom and Bill midway down the corridor by the elevator. To his left Camille and Stephen had their heads bent closely together, and speaking intently. Camille giggled at something he said. Stephen cupped her cheek. Finally, they shared a warm embrace.

A swift sharp pain stabbed at Fitz's chest watching his little girl in the arms of another man she'd always known as 'Dad'. He was being irrational, Camille had shown him many times he was important and he kicked himself for being so foolish. It was a simple goodbye. And when Camille broke from Stephen and came running to him and looped her hand through the crook of his arm, he felt even more foolish.

Camille beamed up at Fitz. "Let's go home!"

Home, he thought dreamily, home with his daughter. He smiled. He would never tired of saying that word!

---

At the start of their journey, Camille and Fitz drove in silence.

Camille turned and looked out the window something she'd avoided doing as there were still journalists sniffing around. Today, she took a real look. Head close up against the glass, she saw people visiting friends and family with no fear of being hounded. She imagined that after leaving the hospital, they'd be off doing everyday normal stuff: shopping, movies, dining out. She was banned from even going online, yesterday being the exception to the rule. It stuck a cord within her she was being denied those simple pleasures.

"You look deep in thought," said Fitz.

She slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. With a deep sigh, she dropped back in her seat. "This is gonna sound kinda weird 'cause of what went down with Gerry, but I was thinking... the last time I did something normal was go to the beach with Abby… it seems like a long time ago."

"Considering the trouble Gerry narrowly avoided in San Diego, now is definitely not a good time. I don't want you… we need to carefully plan your first public outing."

"What about when Jess comes? Will I be allowed out, or do we have to stay in?"

"Let's give it another week and I, we," he corrected himself, "…can sit down with everyone and have a proper discussion. I'd never forgive myself if I took a risk and put you in immediate danger."

Camille brow creased. She got it. He made sense. He cared. He was thinking about her. But it was slightly disempowering to know the public has such an influence over her life.

Fitz felt confident. Gerry's fight confirmed his opinion Camille needed time and shielding from the outside world. He wouldn't leave anything to chance and risk that could further damage her vulnerable state of mind. He didn't believe venturing outside the walls of the ranch and hospital would be conducive. Some would argue he was creating an artificial bubble to cocoon her in. But that was their problem, not his.

Admittedly, Fitz loved spending time with Camille, and he didn't want anyone or thing to hinder their growing relationship. Camille had only just started letting him in and it felt like a precious rare treasure, something he never expected to find, and now that he'd had it, he wasn't prepared to let it go. Fitz didn't want to let Camille out of his sight.

"You're not really mad at Gerry are you?"

"No I'm not. He did exactly what I'd expect him to do. He acted courageously. I don't know what I've done to deserve such brave and wonderful children," he finished as though he were speaking to himself.

"You should tell him that when we get home."

Fitz smiled and nodded. "I sound like a broken record, but you mirror Livvie in so many ways."

Camille blushed at the compliment. "It's funny, you calling her Livvie, no one else does."

"I'm the first and last," declared Fitz. He hummed to himself thinking about his pet name for Camille. It was sometimes on the tip of his tongue to say it, but he always thought about saying it, meaning it wasn't the right time. He guessed that part was for the next stage of their journey.

A while later, their cars passed through the ranch gates, leaving behind a small group of hardcore journalists and the sound of a helicopter's propeller could be heard as it circled the sky.

Camille let an angry sigh and rolled her eyes. "Why don't they give it up?"

"They would argue it's a free country and they're just doing their jobs."

"Well their jobs suck!" fumed Camille.

"This is the point I was making earlier. Let's look at this positively, there a lot less of them than a few days ago."

"Mmm…" she replied grouchily. A pinging noise from her bag, alerted her to text message. Delving in, she took out the device and cried out. "It's Jess!"

"You talk to Jess and I'll get the bags."

Camille chuckled and began frantically texting right up until they parked up outside the house. The episode with the journalists was well and truly forgotten, as she exchanged messages with her best friend.

Releasing his seatbelt, Fitz stopped and cocked his head in Camille's direction. "You won't mention Gerry's fight, will you?" he asked tentatively.

Camille fingers came to an abrupt halt! Lowering her head she turned and glared angrily up at Fitz. Did he think she was that dumb?

Fitz's throat dried and he nervously coughed. "Sorry, I just thought..." he faded away.

Camille arched one eyebrow in a questioning manner that he read as 'yes?'

"Tell Jess I said 'hi'," he said lamely, in an attempt to lighten her mood.

Camille rolled her eyes. Shaking her head, she returned to her finger tapping, texting.

"After I've seen the boys, would you like a quick knockabout on the tennis court before dinner? I've been itching to get you out there ever since I found out if I've got serious competition."

Without looking up, she answered. "Cool, can Teddy join us?"

"I think that's a given."

Leaving the car Fitz saw Yetta and Maya waiting. Once Fitz removed the bags from the car, they collected them from Fitz and he followed behind, as they entered the house.

Yetta instructed Maya to take the bags to the laundry room as she made her way into the living room.

Gabrielle was virtually at the bottom of the staircase, when they came in. "Good evening Sir, how's Ms. Pope doing today?" asked the PA.

"We're moving in the right direction," retorted Fitz, his voice full of confidence.

"Good."

"In the room...?" asked Fitz mysteriously.

"Yes. I took the liberty of purchasing a few blanks cards, you might -"

Fitz nosily cleared his throat and frantically shook his head, as Mellie came flouncing from the living room.

Gabrielle's head shot round in alarm. "Oh," was her instinctive response.

As Mellie approached, her bright blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. In double quick time, her eyes darted between them both. "What are you two plotting?" she asked in an accusing tone.

Gabrielle and Fitz exchanged unspoken thoughts and remained deadly silent.

How juvenile, thought Mellie, shrugging her shoulders and huffing in a frivolous manner, "Fine, keep your secrets."

The front door swung open and Camille came bouncing in, without a care in the world, and then she saw Mellie. Every muscle in her body shut down as she came to a grinding halt, and stood to attention.

"Good afternoon," said Gabrielle.

"Hello," replied Camille, addressing both women. She dropped her gaze and discreetly observed Mrs. Grant, trying to work out if she genuinely wasn't harboring any grudges.

Mellie's body language was relaxed and she was smiling affably. Overall, she appeared to be in a good mood and Camille did not detect any hint of animosity, blame or bad feelings.

"Good afternoon, Camille, how are you?" replied Mellie, merrily. "It's lovely to see you," she continued, walking over to Camille.

To everyone's amazement, Mellie reached out and grasping Camille's arms, gave her a brief hug.

Camille squirmed. "I-I'm good," she replied, pulling away. Mrs. Grant's invasion of her personal space and touch made her feel uneasy.

"Where's Teddy?" asked a gobsmacked Fitz.

Mellie spun round on her heels. "He's taking a nap."

"What about Gerry?"

"Like every normal teenager, who thinks the world is against him, he's barricaded himself in his room," she responded humorously.

Skepticism sprung from Fitz eyes, similar to Camille, he was having trouble relating to the new and improved Millicent Grant. He was unnerved by her sanguine response to their eldest son's altercation and now she was hugging Camille; and making jokes? Years of experience made him a seasoned player when it came to his former wife and her Oscar-winning talent for pretending what's real. However, this was one of the rare occasions when he was prepared to give Mellie the benefit of the doubt. He entertained the thought she was starting to behave like a grown-up for the greater good.

Caught up in his internal musings, Fitz failed to see Yetta reappeared carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.

"Good evening, Miss. Camille… this morning these flowers arrived here for your mother."

"Good evening. Wow! Thank you," said Camille politely, taking the exquisite spray.

Fitz and the women gathered round Camille to admire the combination of pristine white flowers including: lilies, germini, orchids, roses, tiny gypsophila, expertly arranged with fresh greenery and hand tied with folded aspidistra leaves and silver voile ribbon.

"Those are beautiful," gushed Gabrielle.

Camille searched for the card. Snapping it off, she handed it to Fitz. "Can you open it, I can't…"

The fragrant flowery scent captivated Camille's senses and she dipped her head and breathed in deeply, humming contently.

Fitz smiled at her fuzzy expression as he slipped his thumb under the tiny envelope, and pulled out the card. Reading the note, his smile vanished and his eyes clouded over. He swallowed hard and was strangely grateful for the seconds grace while the women were still admiring the flora.

"Someone has very good taste, they're gorgeous."

"What a beautiful arrangement."

"Who are they from?"

Fitz cleared his throat. "Jake Ballard."

"Jake," repeated Camille enthusiastically, with a brilliant wide smile, and notably, failing to keep the excitement out of her voice. Too late, a nauseous feeling landed smack bag in the middle of Camille's stomach when realization hit home her enthusiasm might not have gone down well with a certain person.

Fitz fought hard against the angry rising in his chest at Camille's excitement. "Jake," he mumbled, as he found himself succumbing to a Gerry moment!

Does Ballard want a punch in the face like Hollister? Who the hell does he think he's doing sending flowers to my home?

He flashed back to yesterday afternoon: buying presents online and Camille asking for their home address for billing purposes. His heart plummeted to his stomach, as realization sank in she was still very much in contact with Jake and obviously spoken to him in the last twenty-four hours.

Aware of the building tension, Fitz plastered on a charming smile and offered the note to Camille "Here," he said calmly.

Camille smiled cagily up at Fitz. He seemed okay, but there was a distant look in his eyes. Her fingers clawed round the twenty stems bouquet. She pressed the flowers to her chest and the paper rustled nosily. Eventually, with her free hand, she carefully took the card from Fitz and read the short handwritten note, signed off with Jake's squiggly signature.

Watching the awkward spectacle, Mellie cast her eyes low and a twitchy smile lifted one corner of her mouth, reviling in Fitz's possessive nature taking him to that dangerous place.

"Jake?" Mellie asked blankly.

"My Mom's friend from New York," murmured Camille, self-consciously.

Fitz furrowed his brow. "Why would he send flowers here and not the hospital?" he asked, trying to keep the hostility out of his question.

Camille risked another look up at Fitz and waves of panic crashed over her. She was confused. She didn't have a clue why Jake sent the flowers. The only answer she provided was a wishy-washy shrug of the shoulders.

"Oh that's very sweet of him to think of you both," played on Mellie.

"Shall I put them in your room?" asked Yetta, seemingly oblivious to the simmering tension.

"Thank you. Can you put them in water? I'd like to bring them with me to the hospital tomorrow."

"Very good," agreed Yetta, retrieving the bouquet and made her way back to the main kitchen.

"I'll come with you," Gabrielle called out, chasing after the housekeeper.

The two women leaving did nothing to dispel the strained atmosphere. Exiting seemed the best option for the remaining trio.

"I'd better call Jake to say thanks," Camille murmured, staring through her long lashes up at Fitz. "I'll meet you on the court?"

Fitz was using all his self-control to fight his jealously and maintain his even temper. "How long do you think you'll be?" but 'Is Jake coming to Santa Barbara?' was the real burning question for Fitz.

After his horrendous start to his day, things had perked up, and the icing on the cake was Fitz surprising Camille with his painting gift. But Ballard's withering flowers was the real surprise. He felt he had no choice but to shelve his plan, momentarily.

Mindful, he was to blame for the tense vibe and Mellie ready to latch onto any angst between him and Camille. Fitz thought about Stephen's advice that he needed to be patience and not get riled up regarding the subject of Jake Ballard.

"I'll be real quick – promise," and Camille raced upstairs.

"Fitz -" began Mellie.

Fitz grimaced. He closed his eyes as he continued to do battle with his negative emotions getting the better of him.

Matters of the heart and rational thoughts were two alien concepts, to Fitz. The over powering and all-consuming love he felt towards Olivia and his new-found daughter was set at temperatures not even Venus could compete with. Damn! Coping with Stephen was challenging enough but Jake? He shared a deeper level of intimacy with Olivia and Camille. The thought stung his heart a million times over. He wanted to be everything to his girls and did not want to share. The man was supposed to be flying out on Wednesday. Were the flowers an indicator the trip was still on? He naively believed the issue had been put to bed, clearly not.

Feuding with Gerry and unable to 'wow' Camille with his gift crushed his spirit and left him miserable.

C'mon Fitz, he chided himself, Olivia dumped Jake for a reason, she didn't want to share her life with him; she chose you. Camille, your child, is here with you.

Reopening his eyes, there stood Mellie, patiently waiting.

"I'm gonna go check on the boys before I head over to the court." He came across as sheepish and his voice was laced with uncertainty.

Mellie smiled kindly, and nodded. "Good idea. I'm going to take a walk. Get some fresh air."

She turned, leaving behind a completely demoralized-looking Fitz. The subtle smile she'd used to great effect, transformed into a triumphant grin.

Timing is everything, she thought, as she closed the front door.

---

Camille propped herself up against several pillows and cushions as she lay on her bed. She stared at her mobile for a good while. Rocking her head from side to side, debating how to start the conversation and coming up with zero results after saying 'hello'.

She made a deal with herself. She'd count from one to ten but before she got to ten she must press the call button.

Okay, Camille before you get to ten, you press call. Here we go, one two three four five six seven eight nine, night a quarter, nine and a half - stop it. Chicken! Start again, one two three four' - her thumb hit the button... she held her breath... and breathed out on the first ring.

A few rings later...

"Hello?" said Jake.

Camille's heart started performing a drum solo at a rock concert.

"Hello?" he repeated, impatiently.

"H-hey Jake, it's me, Cam."

"Camille! Hello, hey, how are you?"

He'd foregone his usual 'Cam Cam' nickname for her and it rocked her proving how one event could change your life or maybe she was being paranoid. In the background she heard a door clicking shut, footsteps, and rustling movements.

"Camille?" he prompted.

"Sorry, I'm still here."

"I thought I'd wait till for you to get back to me after the excitement of the last few days."

"Yeah…"

"Yeah…"

"So…"

"So… our former President Fitzgerald Grant III is your father."

Camille made an incoherent muffling sound that Jake took as a 'yes'.

"How 'bout that?"

"Uh-huh, are you angry we never told you?"

"I guess in some ways yes and some ways no. It sure explains why your mom and I didn't work out."

"Yeah, I guess…"

"It must be comforting to have him around with Olivia doing so poorly."

"He's been pretty awesome," she agreed quietly, gripping the bed cover.

"You're living on his ranch?"

"Uh-huh, I'm between here and the hospital."

"Good, that's really good... I can't tell you how pleased I am to hear from you. I didn't know what to think, when I heard the news. "

An awkward silence developed between them.

"I'm sorry, you new-found fame is a little hard to take in," said Jake, eventually.

"Mmm," murmured Camille, dragging her top teeth along her bottom lip.

"So how's living on a ranch, with him full-time?"

"You already ask me that."

"Sorry. The place is huge. I've seen it on the television."

"Massive, I'm not allowed to leave because of all the media attention."

"I'm sure this is for your own good. Can you imagine if you were out in public and recognized? There'd be a major riot - you're a star!"

"I don't think 'star' is the word I'd use."

"You're the President's beautiful long lost daughter that makes you a star honey, ready or not."

"I'm so not ready sometimes... there's this whole security team, cooks, cleaners, press team, personal assistants around all the time - it's like living with royalty."

"You're not too far off the mark, he's a member of the Fortune 500 Club and was married to a blue blood. That makes him American royalty," remarked Jake enviously.

"Its surreal, not being able to go out in public."

"Do you want to go out?" probed Jake.

"No, yes, oh, I dunno," she groaned, out of frustration. "I just wanna be a normal kid again."

Jake could not see how Camille's life would ever be normal again. She was a former white US President's scandalous biracial daughter. Not something people will easily forget – even in the vacuous world of celebrity.

"Cam, honey, I'm not gonna pretend, it's big what's going on with you, but you've got people that love you and will be here to support you through this. I'm here for you, and your mom."

"Thanks Jake."

---

Meanwhile, with Camille and Mellie gone, Fitz headed upstairs to his bedroom and change out of his jeans into sweatpants and white polo shirt. He decided to visit Teddy, who was fast asleep with Teena watching over him. Kissed him and left. He then made his way to Gerry's room. He knocked the door and waited.

"Who is it?" called out Gerry's stern voice.

Fitz sighed heavily. "Son, it's me, Dad, I have good -"

Do you know the enemy?

Do you know the enemy?

Well gotta' know the enemy ohaooh!

Do you know the enemy?

Do you know the enemy?

Well gotta' know the enemy ohaooh!

Green Day's song came blasting out and drowning out Fitz.

Fuming, Fitz grabbed the door handle and twisted. It was locked. Gerry had planned this petulant act. Fitz pounded his fist on the door. "GERRY!"

The door remained shut.

As the punk rock music blared out, Fitz turned away and opted to go and see if Camille was ready. Advancing towards the guest room, he tried to convince himself that was his only reason. But Fitz was more than a little curious to know if she was on the phone to Ballard, and what they were discussing. Nearing the door, his heart started racing. What was he doing spying on his daughter? He thought about backing away, however the door wasn't completely shut. Maybe it's fate? That slight gap in the door, why not take advantage? He wasn't proud of his actions, but his insecurities had gotten the better of him.

He tiptoed and stood against the wall behind the door. His heart stopped for a second. Go back, Fitz, he told himself. But his body wouldn't react to his instructions. He held his breath and listened. A tense smile played across his lips, hearing Camille's soft sweet tone.

---

"We make sure we go everyday, I don't mind. Last night we brought her favorite things: popcorn, red wine and one of his Navy shirts."

"I'm sure Liv appreciates your creative bedside manner," joked Jake. "Out of interest, does your father know you're calling me?"

"Uh-huh."

"What have you told him about me?"

"Um not much... I said you dated Mom," she answered faintly.

Jake didn't want to grill her but there was a distinct wariness in her voice and he guessed there was something amiss. "What does he think about me visiting Olivia on Wednesday?"

"Uh...?" and she faded away, as she became tongue-tied and feeling uneasy. "About that…" she drifted off.

From her silence and the spiky awkwardness in their conversation Jake decided to force the issue.

"You don't want me showing up and rocking the boat?" Jake said an almost accusing tone. The hurt in his voice was apparent.

"It's not that Jake, It's hard to explain but I've been mad at my Dad for a long time and when I first arrived in LA, I blamed him for my Mom's accident 'cause I was scared I was gonna lose her and be left with no one. But it wasn't his fault, it was accident, a horrible accident," she repeated faintly. "He's proved how much he loves me and my Mom."

"He didn't have much choice. That Bourne journalist forced his hand," pointed out Jake.

Camille gasped in anger and surprise at Jake's tactless comment. "Hey, that Bourne guy's a jerk. All he cared about was getting rich and famous off my Mom and Dad. He didn't care that he nearly tore my family apart. If it wasn't for my Dad coming to get me, those people would've hurt me, and him going on television to tell everyone how much he cared about us. He didn't have to do that and now the whole country hates him."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

Camille huffed in a defensive manner. "Well you did."

"I'm sorry," repeated, Jake. "You seem different to when I spoke to you a few days ago. You couldn't wait for me to come out and visit Olivia."

"A lot's happened."

Before that fateful day in Starbucks, Camille had reached out to Jake at her angriest. It seemed almost callous but now she was rejecting him in favor of a man she'd known for a month. She was growing closer to him on what at times felt like an hourly bases. They had their clashes and misunderstandings but their relationship was definitely moving in the right direction. Their relationship had changed for the better. Although he tried to hide it, the flowers from Jake upset him and she didn't want to do anything to upset him and hinder the progress they were both making. It felt harsh, almost cruel to think it, let alone say it but she called Jake out of desperation and fear. Yes, she would always care about him and have fond memories of the time he was part of her life and, but things were different now. She hadhim.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out and she fastened her lips together.

Sensing her struggle Jake took up the conversation. "Camille, your mother's accident has left me devastated. I know I'm only your mother's ex-boyfriend but I've never stopped caring about you both. Your father is... he is a former US President, who's admitted on national television he's been in love with your mother for years, and they're a couple. I can't compete with that, I wouldn't even try to. I don't expect him to throw out the welcome wagon for me but I'm still up for flying out to support Olivia and you. I love you guys. I want the best for you both."

"Jake, I'm really grateful you want to come and see my Mom and me. But honestly, the flowers you sent... are enough."

"I'm glad you liked them."

"I did, but why did you send them here and not to the hospital?" she queried.

"I sent flowers to the hospital. I wanted to let you guys know you were in my thoughts-"

"No! I got your flowers when we came back from the hospital. That's the reason why I called, to say, thanks."

"Cam, I can assure you, I never sent any flowers to your father's home."

"That doesn't make any sense. You sent a bunch of white flowers, with a signed the card."

"Yes, I sent white flowers, I thought her favorite lilies would be a bit morbid. But I ordered the flowers online."

"You did? You didn't get Allison to send them?" Camille thought it's something a jealous girlfriend might do to stir up trouble.

"No, why would I? And anyway, Allison's been laid up in bed with severe morning sickness."

"What does she think about all of this?"

"She was as shocked like everyone else and kept asking me if I knew, and why didn't I tell her. It took some convincing to explain I was in the dark."

"Jess' reaction was the same."

"It's big news. How is she?"

"She's as crazy as ever. She's the only friend from school I've been in touch with. She told me there's reporters camped outside her house but refused to speak to them."

"I've had journalists trying to contact me at home and at work, but everyone's been sworn to secrecy."

"Thanks, it's a relief after some of the stuff folks have been saying. Jess is coming out here when she gets back from her vacation."

"It'll be good for you to see Jess."

"Yeah, I can't wait for her to meet Teddy and Gerry, and Karen," she gushed excitedly.

Camille escaped into silence and Jake didn't know what to say.

"Oh my god!" she suddenly shrieked.

"What?"

"How long have we been on the phone?"

"Er, about twenty minutes, why?"

"I gotta go, I'm supposed to be playing tennis," she explained, cringing about her lack of consideration, and slapped her forehead with her flat palm. She scooted off the bed and ran to the closet.

"Sorry Jake, I really gotta go!"

"Cam, what about Wednesday?"

"It's cool, I think if Allison's sick, you should stay at home and look after her," she rushed out, feeling blessed that Allison's illness had presented her with the perfect alibi.

"Cam-"

"Sorry, Jake I really gotta go, my Dad's waiting for me," and without waiting for a response, she ended the call.

---

Fitz was silently repeating: yes yes and yes. His beautiful, wonderful daughter had done it again. Every sentence, Camille spoke warmed Fitz's heart and soul. He felt this was his reward for not losing his mind over a bunch of flowers from the ex. He honestly believed that by keeping his temper under control he'd inadvertently contributed towards Camille telling Jake, to take a hike. In true Navy SEAL style, Fitz retreated like a ghost figure back down the hallway. He felt good. Good enough to return to his eldest son's room and try again.

---

Jake returned the bedroom he shared with Allison.

Pushing the door open a muffled female voice called out. "Jakey?"

"Yes, its' me, sorry to wake you." Jake climbed into bed beside his pregnant fiancée.

Allison shifted over onto her back. "Mmm," she purred, "you've been gone a while... who were you on the phone to?"

"Camille."

She opened her eyes. She was fully awake. "President Grant's daughter called you?"

"Olivia's daughter, yes," he retorted in an offhand manner. Jesus Christ, he thought, it didn't take long for everyone to forget Camille Pope and it irked him.

"Are you still flying to Santa Barbara?"

"It's looking highly unlikely."

"Oh, I see... are they being funny about your visit?"

"Camille, she sounded confused."

"It must be a difficult time for her... did she mention her father?"

"We talked about him briefly, yes."

"Do you think –"

"Allison, stop with the questions... sorry, I just gotta feeling my name's come up in a conversation and it wasn't in a good way."

"You're the President's girlfriend's ex."

"What you think of him?"

"Who? Fitzgerald Grant? I don't know what you mean…?"

"C'mon, women swoon over him like his a rock god."

"He's conventionally handsome. Not my type."

"Good looking, powerful and rich isn't your type?" snorted Jake, unconvinced.

She rolled to her side and slipped her hand round his waist. "You're good looking, powerful and rich," she assured him. "I'll admit it, I can see the attraction. But he cheated on his beautiful wife and children. He's clearly got a wandering eye. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Plus he looks the jealous type."

Jake sharply exhaled, thinking over Allison's attempt to give him a boost. It didn't work. Whatever Fitzgerald Grant was or wasn't, Olivia loved him and Camille was his daughter. The revelation had almost killed him.

Allison returned to their conversation. "Jake honey, the press have been hounding you for a comment and you've not said one word. Surely they know you can be trusted?"

"Come here," he said, securing his arm round her shoulders. Jake nudged the top of her head with his chin and slipped his hand under her sweater. She let out a soft moan and shifted to gaze up into his green eyes.

Jake smiled. "How you feeing?"

"Not great. But those dry crackers and boiled egg you made for me earlier, helped."

"Good."

"Are you happy about this baby?" she asked, scanning his face for signs of doubt.

Jake took a calming breath. He massaged her bare stomach. He loved the feel of almost touching his creation. "Yes, I'm excited about our little kidney bean."

The sentiment was fact, which Jake confirmed with a loving kiss on Allison's forehead. His lips remained pressed against her skin and he closed his eyes.

"I've never been happier," said Allison contently.

Jake stiffened, and immediately rushed out, "Me too," and affectionately squeezed her shoulder to erase his first response.

Alison squeezed her arm tighter, like a cobra, round his waist. She never kidded herself. She knew Jake still carried a torch for his former girlfriend. She hadn't been the rebound girl. She was the third woman he dated post-Olivia Pope but at times - like this - it sure felt like it. She sucked in her doubts and stayed silent. Not wanting to rock the boat.

Part of her was secretly thrilled to be part of the worldwide scandal. Friends and family had been badgering her for information not seen in the press. The story brought excitement to their hum-drum lives. Feeling Jake's hand on her stomach, she couldn't help purr contently. It felt marvelous. Their unplanned pregnancy was a blessing in disguise because it was the catalyst that took their relationship to the next level. Marriage.

"Let's get some sleep," she murmured closing her eyes.

"Mmm." He switched off the night side lamp.

As Allison drifted back to sleep, Jake thought about last time he considered having a baby. He'd planned on it being with Olivia, but it was not to be. During their relationship, he knew she cared about him but whenever he expressed how much he loved her and Camille, Olivia distanced herself. She never said she was in love with him and now the reason was clear. She'd given her heart to someone else, the President of the United States. When she ended things, he was broken but found his way back, forming a healthy relationship with Allison via casual flings.

They'd met at a mutual friend's wedding and started dating. They got on well and she spent so much time at Jake's apartment she'd all but officially moved in. They were in their thirties, in a good place with their careers and each other. Settling down was the next logical step. But Jake would never forget the dynamic and beautiful Olivia Pope. The woman had made an impression on him. She'd marked him for life.

Thankfully, he'd found Allison. Jake loved her. Not with the same intensity or desire that he felt for Olivia but enough to make a good marriage. Maybe Camille changing her mind was the final end to his story with Olivia Pope. But it burned him, that Camille no longer wanted his support. Let's face it, no matter what Allison said; he stood in the shadows of the rich and powerful Fitzgerald Grant III. Jake could admit to himself, he was envious and had been eager to meet the man lucky enough to steal Olivia's heart.

This isn't over, Jake told himself, closing his eyes.

---

Camille was speeding between the bed and closet. Ripping off her jeans and t-shirt, tossing them on the bed and dragging on a fresh blue t-shirt and pink Nike shorts. She grabbed her Wilson racket case and left.

Leaving her room, her every intention was to head straight over the court but she had a change of heart. Already late to meet him, she didn't think it would make must difference to make a quick stop to say hello to her brothers, especially Gerry, whom she wanted to say a colossal thanks to.

Running down the corridor and the living room, the double doors to the boys' wing was open she whizzed on through. On her approach, she could hear music and saw Fitz banging on the door and calling out to Gerry.

"How long do you intend to sulk? This is ridiculous, Gerry. Gerry, open the door, or I swear I will kick it down," threatened Fitz. "GERRY!"

Camille flinched at his deep bellowing voice. She wondered if she should rethink her plans, but decided to stick to her guns. Camille crept up behind him and tapped him on his back.

Fitz jumped. "Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

"What's going on?"

"Your brother is refusing to let me in. Gerry, open this damn door. Now!" barked Fitz.

Camille made an 'ooh' sound. "I don't think that's gonna work." she told him frankly.

Fitz huffed in frustration.

"Do you want me to try?" she asked, helpfully.

"Be my guest," he replied helplessly, and retreated.

"Hold this for me this." She slipped the racket holder over her head and handed it to Fitz.

Baffled, Fitz took the case from her.

She stood watching him.

"You want me to go?"

Camille nodded. "I'll see you in a sec."

"I'm gone." Fitz went to leave, but paused for a second. He spun round with a dodgy look in his guilt-filled eyes. "Did you get to speak to Jake?" he meekly asked Camille.

Camille immediately averted her eyes to the floor and suddenly found her feet of great interest. "Uh-huh, I said thanks for the flowers." She sneaked a peak at Fitz. "It was weird though, Jake said he didn't send them here, but to the hospital."

How could he tell such a blatant lie? thought Fitz, but remained silently, it wasn't Camille's fault, Jake was a coward.

Fitz anxiously shifted from one foot to the other. He played around with the racket holder in his hand, feeling ashamed that he was asking questions he kinda knew the answers to.

He cleared his throat. "Do I need to make security arrangements concerning his visit this week?"

She shook her head. "Um, no, um, you see, um, Jake's girlfriend Allison, um, she's pregnant and sick in bed, so I told him to stay at home and take care of her," stammered Camille.

Fitz's emotions were soaring. But he executed the perfect game face and looked on blankly at the double good news. "Jake's girlfriend's pregnant?"

"Yeah," she murmured awkwardly

"Well, that makes sense, if she's sick, him staying in New York."

"Yeah."

Silence pervaded between the two, both feeling relived in very different ways that the sensitive subject of Jake Ballard had finally been put to rest.

"I should – Gerry."

"I should – Gerry."

They said in unison.

Locking eyes, they smiled cagily at each other.

Fitz took it upon himself to speak first. "I'll be outside at the court, good luck with Gerry."

Camille silently nodded and switched her attention to Gerry, anything to avoid continue the tricky Jake issue.

Fitz strolled away with a swagger in his step. He felt as though he were walking on cloud nine. He was sporting this most dazzling smile and started whistling the Green Day tune he never knew he knew.

Camille waited for the song to end. Quick as a flash she knocked and called out "GERRY, IT'S ME CAMILLE, OPEN UP."

She pressed her ear against the door, and heard movement. She repeatedly knocked. "Gerry?"

Gerry's suspicious voice called out. "Cam, is Dad with you?"

"No, it's just me, cross my heart and hope to die," she promised, crossing her index finger across her chest.

Gerry opened door. His eyes darting round the corridor. Once he'd established Camille was alone, he grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room.

She gazed up at him. Gerry seemed bigger in stature, like he'd grown three inches. She felt elated as she admired her big and brave brother.

Camille put up her fists. Gerry laughed. He instantly copied Camille's boxing pose, and they pretended to box.

As their laughter petered out Camille stopped and sad eyes gazed up at Gerry's red and purple bruised face. She lifted a hand and gently touched the cut on his cheekbone. "Does it hurt?"

"I'm a bit sore."

"Thanks for sticking up for us."

Gerry grinned and blushed. He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged off her appreciation.

Camille jumped up into his arms and hugged him tightly. She whispered in his ear. "You're awesome."

Gerry stumbled. "Ouch, take it easy," he groaned.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm kidding, take a seat... if you can find somewhere." Gerry went and sat at his desk and flickered through his iTunes library on his iPad and carried on uploading new songs.

Clothes, magazines, books, and bags were covering the floor, in typical teenage fashion. Camille made a clear space on his messy double bed. She hopped and crossed her legs.

"You know your Dad's been trying to talk to you."

Gerry's eyes hardened. "I don't care, I haven't got anything to say to him."

"He said in the car you did exactly what he would've done. He thinks you're courageous."

"Funny, that not what he was saying this morning."

"He was worried. He wasn't around to protect you."

"All he's worried about is me ruining the great Grant name, but he's pretty much seen to that already."

Camille dropped her gaze and picked up a music magazine.

"Fuck, sorry, Cam, my bad. I didn't mean, fuck."

"It's okay, forget it. Whatever mistakes our parents have made we're living with it. But remember you said we had to stick together doesn't that mean with our dumb parents too?"

Gerry cocked his head to look at Camille, flicking through a copy of Rolling Stones magazine. She was smart, he thought, to use my own words against me. But he was still pissed off and not willing to backdown. "I guess, but that still doesn't excuse the way Dad kicked off on me."

"At least he was there for you... and now everything is fine."

Gerry rocked his legs from side to side, spinning in his chair. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what? I only know the story didn't hit the headlines."

"Zack deadbeat Hollister's parents aren't pressing charges. They've dropped the whole thing."

"Damn right. It was that sonofabitch's fault," he charged, defiantly.

"Ya got dat right! But it's thanks to your Dad."

"And OPA"

"And Dad," Camille repeated in a soft firm voice.

"Mainly Quinn Perkins, I must give her a call to say thanks."

"And our Dad."

Gerry huffed, and rolled his eyes. "And our Dad," he agreed.

Loud knocking and the door handle being twisted and shook, alerted Camille and Gerry.

Gerry took a deep breath. "Who is it?"

"Ger, open da door," shouted Teddy.

Gerry ran and unlocked the door. "Hey TT, Teena."

Teddy nodded. "Teddy wanted to play with you," she told him.

"No problem, come in squirt."

"Why is your door locked?" asked Teddy, pushing passed his brother. "Cam! Yeah!" screamed Teddy. He came sprinting towards her and leapt up onto Gerry's bed.

"Hello, you," she laughed, and helped him up. They fell into each other's arms and hugged. It was so good to see him. "I missed you." She tickled him.

Teddy laughed and wriggled. "I missed you too. I slept on a boat!"

"You did? Were you the captain or a pirate?"

Teddy high-pitched laughter rang out. His was head shaking so hard his hair flopped around. "I wasn't a pirate, they naughty," squealed Teddy.

"Ger Ger, got hurt," Teddy, moaned softly.

"I know," replied Camille sympathetically, as they both stared over at Gerry.

"TT, I already told you, it was an accident, I tripped over my surf board," explained Gerry.

Teddy had been frightened and tearful when he first came home and saw Gerry. The best Gerry could come up with was saying he'd fallen over his 'board. He kept his little fib simply, with no embellishments.

"I wanna drink," declared Teddy, rubbing his eyes.

"I've got juice in the fridge," said Gerry.

"I want cookies and milk."

"Okay, let's go downstairs to the kitchen. We can say 'hello' to Blue and play tennis if you like?"

"Are you playing?"

"Yep!"

"I wanna play," and Teddy leapt down. "Ger, are you coming?"

Gerry shook his head. "You two go ahead, I'll catch up with ya later."

"Oh, please, Ger," whined Teddy.

"Didn't you want to call Quinn?"

Gerry smiled gratefully at Camille. "Yes, do you have her number?"

Camille innocently shook her head. "No, Dad's got it though, so you'll have to come downstairs and get it from him. I'm guessing, you probably wanna thank everyone that helped you after your surfing accident."

Gerry scowled.

"YAY! C'mon Ger, let's go!"

'You heard TT, c'mon Ger," said Camille, sweetly.

---

Mellie stood in the identical spot as Camille two days ago, the old oak tree. It treated Mellie to a perfect view of the two guesthouses, pool house and tennis court. Of the four building, it was the green hard (tennis) court surrounded by a stone white wall that fascinated her the most, because Fitz was limbering up and practicing his serve. Tennis was a sport she and Fitz enjoyed together and she smiled remembering past vacations they spent at The Cape playing mixed doubles with their crowd. Days gone past, never to return, she concluded bitterly.

During her walk Fitz had caught up with her to tell her the good news about Zack Hollister but Gerry was still in an unforgiving mood and refusing to speak to him. Outwardly she was still playing the sympathy card but was secretly thrilled to learn about Gerry's ongoing animosity towards his father. It left her feeling superior and that her plan was going to work. Fitz had been alone on the court for the best part of half an hour. Evidently, Camille was still locked in conversation with the whore's former boyfriend. She allowed herself a victorious smile, but the self-righteousness she felt was short lived.

Mellie's superior smile was replaced with a high voltage glare.

"No way," she hissed out loud, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Emerging from the breakfast room patio doors was Teddy followed by Camille and was that... Gerry. Her chest rose in angry watching the three children stroll pass the pool and pool house and head over to the tennis court. Back to Fitz, he stopped serving aces. He was rooted to the spot and staring as they approached. Once inside the gate, Gerry was the first to cross the court and stretched out his hand. Fitz ignored it. Instead, he dropped his racket and threw his arms round Gerry and they hugged as Camille and Teddy looked on.

No, this wasn't in the plan. Gerry was supposed to be at war with his father. Fitz was supposed to be furious about Jake's flowers and possible arrival. She was playing nice to draw suspicion away from herself and have the upper hand over Fitz as his day unraveled. But staring at the happy scene this wasn't the case.

Mellie fired a look of pure hatred towards Camille, who was skipping happily round the court and collecting florescent green balls with Teddy. What had the little minx said to Gerry, more importantly what about her call to Jake?

Mellie knew she had to devise another plan if she had any hope of getting away from Olivia Pope 2.0

---

Painful as it was, Mellie successfully maintained her phony personality, which she used to great affect over dinner. She engaged with Teddy as he retold tales of his boat adventures. However, internally, she was dying as she witnessed the flowing conversation and laughter between Fitz and the children, especially Gerry, who seemed to have done a complete u-turn concerning Fitz. The man he referred to as a 'dickhead' when he first arrived home. Mellie drunk thirstily from her wine glass, listening to Camille drone on about her latest hospital visit with Fitz, and her grandparents and cousins flying over at the weekend. She told Teddy how she got her relatives to record messages on her iPhone and played them back to Olivia. Teddy was excited by the idea of Aunt Liv listening to people's voices.

"I wanna make one. Can I Cam, can I do it too?" he pleaded.

"For sure, I think my mom was wondering why she didn't hear from you," replied Camille thoughtfully.

Fitz caught Camille's eye and winked at her. She's completely adorable, he thought. "We're going tomorrow, aren't we?" Camille pointedly asked Fitz.

Camille didn't miss Fitz's eyes lose their initial spark and cloud over, before he nodded.

"We are going?" she repeated.

"Yes, of course we are," said Fitz. He remembered in the morning, he'd been having that conversation.

After the fabulous feast of foods, Mellie barely touched, she excused herself, saying she had to call The Hamptons. Fitz got up and announced he was taking Archie and Bear for a walk and the kids immediately asked to accompany him.

---

Fitz and the children had been walking Archie and Bear for a good half an hour. The cool summer evening made the walk a pleasant one.

Camille and Teddy went running off in search of broken off tree branches and the odd tennis ball for the dogs to chase and return. Fitz and Gerry hung back.

Fitz looked over anxiously at Gerry. He took a deep breath and stuck his hands into his pockets. "I'm glad you came. Gives us a chance to talk about yesterday," started Fitz.

Gerry exhaled heavily. "Dad-"

"Before you say anything, just let me speak, okay?"

Gerry sucked in his breath and politely nodded.

"I know I didn't respond the way you would've liked. But you must know if I had been in your shoes I would've reacted the same way. It cannot have been easy to stick your head above the parapet like that in front of your friends. What you did took guts. I'm very proud of you. I have nothing but admiration for the way you defended yourself and your family. I can't credit you enough. My reaction was out of fear, but my fear went against everything I taught you about living with integrity and doing the right thing."

"I felt alienated, like everyone was against me, except Camille, she was the only one that didn't make me feel shit about myself. She told me what you said in the car on the way home."

"Is that why you came down to play a sport you hate?"

Gerry chuckled. "Yes, that and she has leverage on me."

They both laughed.

"You're practically an adult but I wasn't around to protect you. Big as you are, I'll never stop me worrying about you. I'm on your side, son."

"I know, when I spoke to Karen... I was telling her how fucked-up things were for me... I don't want to have to fight the world, Dad."

"I don't want you to have to either. But there are some things worth fighting for. It's not right and it's not fair but we live in a world, where we as a family have to defend ourselves. I have to defend my decision to love Olivia. Love takes hard work, Gerry, that's how you know it's worth fighting for. Do you feel burdened?"

Gerry's shoulders tensed up. "A bit. I've always been happy to stay in the background." He looked at Camille rolling across the grass as Teddy pushed her.

'I'm sorry my choices have left you -"

"Don't apologize Dad. If I were dating a black girl or guy, I'd want the support of my family. I'd want you to be there for me."

"We have to take things slowly, one day at a time. It won't always be like this, things will calm down."

Their intense conversation stopped as Teddy came racing toward his dad and brother.

"Daddy, Cam says she'll read me a bedtime story."

"Is that okay?" asked Camille, running up behind Teddy.

"Fine by me." They were nearly back at the house. He turned to Gerry. "We'll continue this conversation tomorrow," promised Fitz.

Gerry nodded in agreement.

---

Mellie was standing over the sink and nursing a glass of white wine. She looked fairly distraught when they arrived back at the house via the pool/breakfast kitchen entrance.

"Mom?" queried Gerry.

Fitz breezed past Mellie and collected the dogs' drinking bowls and walked back over to the sink. He parked himself in front of Mellie. "If you don't mind, I need to get to the cold tap, so I can sort out the dogs out, thank you."

Instantly, she stepped aside. "Oh I'm sorry, I was miles away."

Fitz rolled his eyes as he ran the faucet. Teddy ran to his mother and patted her arm.

"Everything okay, Mom?" asked Gerry, concerned by her change in demeanor.

"I spoke to your grandmother, she's unwell. The last couple of days have taken a strain on her and her migraines have returned."

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Gerry.

Mellie broke into a sad smile. "Give her a call, she'd loved to hear from her grandson."

"Can I talk to granny?" chipped in Teddy.

"Yes, sweetheart, go with your brother."

By now Camille had picked up a sleeping Blue and was gently petting him. She looked with uncertainty at Fitz, unsure what to do next if the boys were off calling their grandma.

"You kids go on," instructed Fitz. "I'll feed and water the dogs."

---

Fitz's blue eyes were fixed onto Mellie. His intense stare barely left her face as he set the water-filled bowls down on the tiled floor. "Your mother's under the weather?" he questioned doubtfully.

"Yes, she's been plagued with these migraines on and off in recent years."

"Must've come on quite suddenly?"

"She's in her mid-eighties, Fitzgerald," retorted Mellie, condescendingly. She drained the last of her wine glass and made sure she avoided Fitz's piercing stare. "If you'll excuse me, I need to find Teena to help get Teddy ready for bed."

"Don't bother, Camille volunteered to read him a bedtime story."

"How thoughtful," she drawled. "Speaking of Camille, I heard her mention over dinner her grandparents are returning to Santa Barbara, and her cousins too?"

"Yes, arriving the same day as Karen."

"That's wonderful news. Good to know their little Frank Bourne problem has been resolved and no real harm done," she replied, with a smile, that didn't quite reach her calculating cold blue eyes.

Mellie pierced her lips together in contemplation.

Fitz arched his eyebrows as he observed his former wife's display. "Is there something else, Millicent?" She was playing formal, so he'd play along too.

She cleared her throat and put on another fake, plastic smile. "I was wondering if they're the only guests Camille's expecting. I mean, didn't she speak to Jack?"

For the first time, since entering the kitchen, Fitz threw Mellie a bone and treated her to an over the top friendly smile. "His name is Jake, and yes, she did speak to him, and no, he's not coming," he said with deep satisfaction. God! That felt good, he thought to himself.

Mellie's eyes flashed angrily. But one blink later, she was smirking as thought indifferent to his conceited response. "No matter, she has her family looking out for her, that's what's important. In fact it's our duty to look after each and every family member in their hour of need, wouldn't you agreed, Fitzgerald?"

There was a double meaning to her question that registered with Fitz, and one he knowingly ignored.

"Do you know if Stephen's back yet?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Mellie pouted and rolled her eyes at his banal question. "No."

"He's probably driving back from the hospital," said Fitz, as he went over and yanked open the patio doors. He slapped his right thigh and let out a loud whistle. Archie and Bear came barking and tumbling through the doors at their master's call. Tails wagging, they dived into their water-filled bowls and drank sloppily, spilling water over the floor in their eagerness to quench their thirst.

Mellie's turned-up her nose in openly disdain and without saying another word, stomped out of the room.

A thin smile spread across Fitz lips as he bent down and scratched his faithful pals behind their ears. He looked and studied the door the marked exit. "Good boys."

---

With help from Camille, Teddy brushed his teeth and changed into his PJs. They both climbed into his metal framed racing car-inspired bed and snuggled down under the light summer quilt together. Camille held out the two books that Teddy grabbed when they first came in the room, and asked, which one he wanted to hear first: Dr Seuss' Mr. Brown Can Moo. Can You? and Eric Carle's The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

The young boy, pointed to his book of choice. "Read this one, read this one," demanded Teddy, excitedly.

"Oh, this is one of my favorites," gushed Camille.

Teddy rested his head on Camille's upper arm and sucked his thumb.

She began...

In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf.

"Where's the egg?" she asked.

Teddy pointed to a small white ball on a large green leaf. "There, it's stuck." He startled Camille when he suddenly leapt up.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a little shocked.

"Ooh, I forgot, get up," he ordered in a hushed voice.

Camille sat up. Teddy's hand fished around under his pillow. "Got it!' he declared triumphantly. Carefully, he pulled out and revealed a warm candy bar.

"Teddy, what are you doing with that Resse's bar?"

"Max gave it to me," he replied, slowly tearing open the packet open.

Camille covered his hands and he stopped. "Should you be eating candy at this time of night?"

Teddy jerked away from Camille and resumed tearing open, the packet of the two cup peanut butter chocolate goodie.

"Yeah, as long as I brush my teeth," he said innocently, as though butter-wouldn't melt.

"Are you sure?" she questioned, not totally convinced, but not wanting to come across, like the overbearing older sister.

"Uh-huh," he said between mouthfuls of chocolate, and offered her one of the warm peanut butter cups.

She shook her head. "I'm good. But I bet The Very Hungry Caterpillar, would like some," she joked, returning to the story and turning the page.

"... On Monday, he ate through a pear. Like this."

Camille held out her arms and wriggled her upper, pretending to be the caterpillar. Teddy giggled and copied her actions. Excited by how engaged Teddy appeared to be with her storytelling, each time the caterpillar ate something new Camille would show Teddy the picture, wriggle around on the bed and make various eating sounds.

"Did the caterpillar eat this?" squealed Teddy, showing off the second warm peanut cupcake. Camille was slightly concerned about the mess they were making but promised herself, she would clear up.

"Let's find out... On Saturday he ate through one piece of chocolate cake. Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! One ice cream -"

A rap on the door and both children froze. The door swung open and Mellie came in. Teddy yelped in fright and wiped his mouth in a vain attempt to wipe away his hidden treat, but his candy-covered mouth and hands are a dead giveaway. He attempted to hide the candy bar under the bed clothing, drawing attention to himself, and ending up making a bigger mess.

Mellie looked at the children's guilty faces. She dashed over to Teddy's bedside. "What's going on? Theodore Grant, why is your mouth covered in chocolate? We have a strict rule: no candy before bedtime."

"Oh, I-" stuttered Teddy, his eyes filling with tears.

"I said it was okay," Camille blurted out, without thinking.

Teddy mouth dropped open and his eyes look set to pop right out their socket, as he stared in shock at Camille.

Slapping her hand on one hip, Mellie whizzed round, blazing blue eyes, blinking furiously. "Camille, did you give Teddy permission to eat candy?"

"I said it would be okay as long as he brushed his teeth."

"Well it is most definitely not okay." Mellie turned back to face a tearful and guilty-looking Teddy. "Look at you, your face your hands and PJs covered in chocolate, revolting," fumed Mellie.

"I'm sorry," apologized Camille meekly.

Mellie snorted and rolled her eyes as she roughly took hold of Teddy's arm. "Come on, ugh! To the bathroom with you, young man."

Head shamefully hanging low, Teddy climbed out of bed.

Camille's sorrowed-filled eyes looked guiltily from Teddy to Mellie. She shuddered at the latter's frosty look.

Mellie resembled a strict matron. "Camille, you probably don't understand, being an only child, you shouldn't feed little ones sugary foods before their bedtime, it makes them hyper."

"I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'm sorry."

"Nevermind, but in the future, if you're not sure, ask."

Camille nodded. "Should I...?" she faded away, uncertain of her next move.

"I'll take over. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Teddy looked over his shoulder at Camille and she winked. Letting him know they were friends and she didn't blame him.

---

"Mind if I sit down?" Camille needed a distraction, something to take her mind off what had occurred. Trust her to end the day getting into trouble with the one person she especially didn't want to get on the wrong side of. She didn't wait for Gerry to respond, just flopped down on the couch beside him in the ground floor living room.

"You alright?"

"Uh-huh? Watcha playing?"

"Driveclub."

"Camille leaned forward. "What's this, The Last of Us, can you put it on?"

"It's about zombies," warned Gerry. 'Yes! New personal record," he yelled, at the screen.

Camille shrugged her shoulders she didn't care about being scared. The scariest thing she had to face right now, was Mrs. Grant and worrying if she tell everyone about the candy incident. She popped open the case and took out the disc. She looked at Gerry and waved the disc in front of him, deliberately blocking his view.

"Hey, watcha doin' I'm gonna crash, move your arm," he snapped, zigzagging his body away.

"Please?" she begged. Treating Gerry to her biggest, flashest smile and batted her eyelashes to effortless pull off her best angelic look.

His car totaled, Gerry sighed defeated and side-eyed Camille. He set about saving and removing his current game. "Okay, I'll let you watch the prologue, and that's it, deal?"

"Deal," agreed Camille."Yes," she whispered victoriously, as he loaded up the game.

Camille rested comfortable against the cushions as Gerry explained the story was based on a young girl called Ellie and her protector, Joel, trying to make their way across post-apocalyptic America. But the girl they were currently watching was Sarah, Joel's daughter. "Joel's is our hero, and pretty much rocks," he explained.

Camille was soon hooked into the storyline, about this frightened girl, Sarah, watching the TV news reports about an outbreak and people running around screaming, some covered in blood.

"I'd get out if I were her," observed Camille.

"She does, watch," said Gerry. They both sink into silence as Joel and Sarah, leave their home and go on a mission to find a safe haven from the madness and mayhem on the streets.

Camille screamed when it looks like Joel and his daughter are about to be killed. There's gunshot, but it's their would-be-killer that takes a bullet and ends up dead.

"I'm sorry," she laughed, clutching her chest. "I wasn't expecting that."

Gerry laughed too. "Don't worry, it's Joel's badass brother, Tommy, to the rescue."

The children were so engrossed in the game they never heard someone sneaking up on them, until, "Camille. I heard you screaming, is everything alright?" asked Mellie firmly.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Grant is Teddy okay?"

"Yes, he's fine, his father is tucking him in. No harm done." She smiled coldly at Camille, and then looked at the screen. "What this game you playing?" she challenged Gerry.

Gerry rolled his eyes before answering, "The Last of Us."

"Age consent?"

"We're watching the intro and that's it, I'm not gonna play the game. Relax!"

Mellie cleared her throat. "Gerry, darling, you'll have to turn it off, you shouldn't be playing it in front of a minor."

"I don't mind, I'm not scared or anything," chimed in Camille.

"It is not whether you mind, Camille, my dear, it's about what's appropriate, and this game isn't. Either turn it off Gerry or go to your room."

"Mom, you're making a fuss about nothing." Gerry went to turn off the game and Camille reached out and touched his arm. He stopped.

Camille smiled sympathetically. "It's okay, Gerry, you can play, I'm going to bed, goodnight."

---

"What do you do that?" Gerry asked his mother wearily, when Camille was long gone.

"Do what sweetheart?"

'Make Cam feel uncomfortable."

Mellie huffed and rolled her eyes. "Gerry, you're playing a game that could give the poor child nightmares. Imagine if it were your father and not me that had come down?"

Gerry shrugged off her well-meaning concern. He thought, he may as well continue playing the game and picked up from where he'd last stopped. "What was that about with Teddy?"

"Oh, something and nothing. Goodness me, Gerry, what's that you're doing?" shrilled Mellie, taking the seat Camille had vacated.

"Killing clickers, they're like super zombies."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Gerry quickly glanced at his mother. "What's up?"

"Thank you for calling your grandmother."

"No problem. She said she's had these headaches and not to worry."

"Your grandmother's a proud woman. Did you, you didn't mention your fight?"

"No, I'm not an idiot."

Mellie shifted over and draped her arm round his shoulders. "My darling boy," she whispered. "Mommy hates to see you in so much pain. Look at your handsome face, all cut up and bruised."

Gerry pulled away. "I'm fine, Mom. It's no big deal," he mumbled.

"Sweetheart, it's unreasonable what our family is expected to endure: the sniggering behind our backs and the disrespectful taunts. You're feeling it too... within our circle this isn't acceptable. We'll be paying for your father's indiscretions for the rest of our lives. What's happening out there, is having a detrimental effect on all of us living in here," she emphasized for good measure. "This family is going to be facing some serious problems for the foreseeable future. And before you start, I'm not stirring the pot. You were right, Camille's, she's a sweet child, but she's got a lot on her plate with her mother and living with a new father and siblings."

"I like her being here, Mom, so does TT," Gerry reminded his mother.

"You know I have nothing but admiration for how you're conducting yourself since Camille arrived. You're loyal to your family. But do you want to spend the rest of your life defending your father's mistakes? Getting into fights with your friends? This disruption to our lives, this is not a burden my children should have to carry. Your father's interview was supposed to settle things, however, it appears as though the aftermath is just as explosive as the initial leak. Tensions are running high and as big as this place is, I think it would be healthy to give each other some space. Your father is so wrapped up with Camille and Olivia, he has no time for anyone else."

Gerry eyes flipped back in shock. "How can you say that after what happened to me in San Diego?"

"You're absolutely right, he did what any parent would do: support their child in their hour of need. And that's why I'm thinking of returning to The Hamptons – just for a few days – to make sure your grandmother is recovering well, and there are no further complications. It's not just your father's side of the family that needs support, Gerry. You have an aunt and cousins who've been dealing with nasty name calling."

He hadn't considered his mother's side of the family. Too consumed with what was happening right under his nose. "You know I spoke to Karen, I was saying to her, I knew things would be tough," he admitted.

"And this is just the start. What if Jake Ballard decides to make an appearance? Can you imagine?"

"You think he's gonna show up."

"One never knows, and we could do with getting ourselves tied into another Pope drama."

Mellie could see Gerry's mind working overtime. "I'm trying to make sense of the current problems we're facing and finding a peaceful solution Have a good think about what I said... goodnight."

She kissed his non-bruised cheek. "Sleep well, I love you."

"Night, Mom, love you too."

Mellie got up to leave.

Gerry looked back at his mother. "What about Karen coming home?"

"It's a couple of days Gerry. Remember, your grandmother's in her eighties and quite frail. We'd be back by Saturday," she answered brightly, but her eyes glowered darkly.

---

Camille had made it to the top of the stairs when she saw Fitz.

"Hey, you off you bed?"

"Yeah, goodnight." She tried to scurry away.

Fitz blocked her path. "Okay, what's wrong?"

Camille played with her fingers nervously and could barely look at Fitz. "I'm sorry, it was my fault with Teddy and the candy. I told Mrs. Grant I let him have it. I don't blame her being being angry with me, I should've -"

Fitz chuckling softly, interrupted her apology.

She scowled at him. "What's funny?"

"Did she now, well don't you worry about Mrs. Grant. It's something of an open secret that Teddy likes sneaking candy and cookies up to his bedroom."

So Mrs. Grant was just being a mean cow. So much for her changing and actually starting to be a decent person, fumed Camille. She didn't hold back from meeting Fitz's friendly gaze with wide eyed anger and disbelief. She wanted to scream from the top of lungs But no! Camille held her tongue and let her ferocious glare do the talking.

Fitz patted Camille's tense-filled shoulder. "Put the whole incident out of your mind. By the way, Teddy said you were the best caterpillar he'd ever seen."

Camille relaxed into an incandescent smile. "I'll finish the story tomorrow."

"Good, he'll like that."

Mellie's mask cracking and her reverting to type was no shock to Fitz. But he wouldn't allow her poisonous streak to blight Camille's day. Looking into Camille's expressive eyes, he thought about her weaving her magic over the last twenty-four hours. Camille had been the one that got Gerry talking to him, she entertained and covered up for naughty Teddy; and she had chosen him over Jake. Today could have faired very differently.

Making a spur of the moment decision, Fitz thought now was as good a time as any to do the one thing he planned on doing all today.

He held out his hand. "Come with me."

"Why, where are we going?"

"I have a surprise for you."

She joined hands with him. Instantly, she felt that calming sensation sweep over her from the casual touch of his strong soft hand, leading her to... where exactly?

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?"

Fitz ignored the questions. He simply smiled as he guided them both into the living room and proceeded to the right, towards the open double doors, opposite to the boy's wing of the house. He upped his pace, causing Camille to hold on even tighter; and she was virtually jogging alongside him.

"Slow down," she begged him, breathlessly.

His pace lessened, but not much.

Camille's stomach was under siege from zillions of butterflies and her chest was rising and falling at a disturbing rate. They appeared to be headed in the direction of Karen's bedroom, which he walked passed.

They stopped outside the off limits room's door and Fitz released her hand.

Without hesitation, Camille began repeatedly biting her thumbnail. She gazed up and when her eyes locked with Fitz's tender blue orbs, Camille became tense. "Teddy said no one's allowed in here," she whispered, as thought they were about to break some sacred law.

Fitz performed a quick quirk of his eyebrows. "Open the door," he instructed.

"Why?"

"Please, just do it."

Placing her fingers on the doorknob, she turned the handle and pushed the door. It swung wide open. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the dark blue hue and strobes of silver light from the moon streaming in through bay windows.

Fitz tapped her lightly on the shoulder and stepped in front of her. He pressed a button on the wall and a soft light filtered in and revealed a large empty white-painted wall room.

"Come in." His voice echoed around the enormous empty room.

Camille sucked in her breath and slowly breathing out, she crossed the threshold. She gawped as her eyes darted around the room, taking in the blank walls, high ceiling, alcoves, built in bookcase and doors. Suddenly, and her eyes fell upon a large flat brown parcel marked FRAGILE propped up against the windows, and looked to Fitz.

Shaking her head. "I don't understand."

Nodding his head. Fitz's deep rich voice, addressed her softly. "Camille, this is your bedroom."

---

AN: Olivia is giving everyone hope with her progress. I found some interesting coma treatments that I've included. I'll admit I've had a little fun with the facts! I did research the spelling for 'thank you' in Thai and trust I got it right. I apologies in advance for any mistakes. Camille and Fitz's relationship is growing stronger by the day, and she's becoming closer to her siblings too. Yeah! Too bad for Mellie, her flower plan blew up in her face.

Happy Reading Gladiators! :)