Disclaimer: Shondaland/ABC owns these characters. And the less said about that the better.
NO-Mellie and NO-Joke: Public Service Announcement for any accidental non-Olitz readers
Indo-Asian News Service report
"…President Fitzgerald Grant welcomed the visiting Indian Prime Minister to the White House today, with a 'namaste' and praise for the growing bond of friendly cooperation between the two nations.
"The Prime Minister in turn said he was honoured by the invitation and was 'extremely keen' to make the acquaintance of the President's family. He added that India was looking forward to working with the current US government and its initiatives beyond the traditional Eurocentric perspectives.
"Among the guests,that included politicians and celebrities, were 200 school children from neighbouring schools who took part in the welcome celebration organised by First Lady Olivia Pope-Grant on the South Lawn, resplendent in flags of both nations.
"Mrs Grant wearing a white coat with hand-painted spring flowers and matching dress, spent the morning entertaining the Prime Minister's wife, who wore a pink sari...
"The day will culminate in a gala dinner later tonight…"
"Ma'am, the President is on his way to escort you to dinner."
"Thank you," Olivia smiled at the staffer, as she fixed the new pair of diamond earrings that Fitz had surprised her with that morning. Her only other jewellery was her wedding and engagement rings.
Then as the door closed behind the staffer, Olivia took a deep breath, trying to still her nerves.
It was her first State Dinner, but something else felt off to Olivia as she picked up the silk stole that matched the coral pink of her silk-satin dress.
The dress had been custom-designed by Indian-born American designer Bibhu Mohapatra, off-the shoulder with a silver embroidered bodice that camouflaged her growing baby bump with enough distracting bling to make her feel comfortable.
Hearing the door open, Olivia turned to see Fitz walk in. He paused, staring at her, before closing the door slowly and leaning against it. He let his gaze wander up from the coral-pink tips of satin shoes over the slim skirt up over the patterned bodice and her bare neck, resting for a long moment on her neutral-tinted mouth, before locking onto the smile in her eyes.
He stepped away from the door and came towards her. "You look amazing," he said huskily, pressing a kiss on the sweet spot below her ear. "And you smell amazing." He drew back sliding his hands down the smooth length of her bare arms to take hold of her hands. "And you feel amazing," he finished thickly.
The sweetness of his words, the look on his face and the gentle touch of his hands brought a sudden rush of tears and Olivia blinked furiously.
"Hey!" Fitz was instantly concerned. "What happened? What did I say?"
"Everything nice," she said on a husky breath, smiling at him.
He kissed the tip of her nose, then each corner of her smiling mouth before reaching for her hand. "Come on, let's say goodnight to the kids and no extra-long hug for Jerry."
Laughing, Olivia laced her fingers through his as they headed out of the bedroom.
They were making their way downstairs after the goodnight kisses and hugs, when Fitz glanced towards her and said, "Edison quit."
Olivia blinked in surprise as they came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Then seeing him gazing at her intently, she teased, "Awww, Fitz, do you need a hug?"
He didn't smile. "You didn't know?"
Olivia took a step closer. "No, baby, I didn't. Edison doesn't share his secrets with me. It must have something to do with the fact I'm your wife, not his."
As his smile grazed her ear, she murmured, "You shouldn't smile. You've lost a bipartisan member of your cabinet. It won't look good, having this many changes in a few short months."
Fitz drew back, his expression serious once again. "I'm glad to see the back of him. I don't trust him around you," adding after a brief pause, "Will you miss him?"
"You are a funny, funny man."
"That's no answer, Livvie."
"That's the only answer you're going to get, Fitz."
He stared at her solemnly.
With a cheeky look, Olivia slipped her arm through Fitz's, and tugged him along, but just before they stepped out onto the North Portico, she paused to adjust his black tie, murmuring, "You need to get over Edison. You know how much I hate being part of a threesome."
Fits shot her a look but Olivia was already stepping back. She walked ahead of him to stand on the red carpet, facing the phalanx of photographers and their ultra-sensitive audio equipment.
Uncaring of who was watching or listening, Fitz curved his arm around Olivia's waist bringing her close, to murmur in her ear, "You are and always have been the only one I love."
Olivia's her gaze dropped to his mouth as she lifted a hand, letting her fingers slide across his chest in a gentle caress before her arm returned to her side.
They stood in silence for a long moment, until she felt a flutter of nerves at the announcement that a motorcade had entered the White House gates signalling the arrival of the Indian Prime Minister and his wife from Blair House.
"All right?" Fitz looked at her.
She glanced at him, murmuring, "Fitz, with Edison gone, we have one less VIP and his guest for dinner."
"It's okay. Zeke's taken care of the numbers."
Then as the cars stopped at the bottom of the steps, Fitz released Olivia and stepped forward to greet the Indian Prime Minister and his wife.
News Network – hourly update…
"…Pictures just in of our two lovebirds, President Fitzgerald Grant and First Lady Olivia Pope-Grant, whispering sweet nothings while waiting for the Indian Prime Minister and his wife to arrive.
"Official sources say the 350 invited guests will be entertained in a specially decorated marquee with an orchestra, spacious dance floor and floating kitchens."
"On the instructions of the First Lady, the deep blue of the tent walls were picked up by the table linen, with the flowers an abundance of blue, purple and green to reflect the colours of the peacock, which is the national bird of India.
"Under the chandeliers, guests, who include the famous and infamous from both sides of the political spectrum as well as Hollywood and Bollywood, will dine on a meatless menu that includes okra, collard green, rice and curry prawns , showing a touch of the new First Lady's tastes and her visiting guests…"
Olivia's eyes widened at the couple waiting at the end of the receiving line.
"You invited Dad and Felicia to the State Dinner?"
Fitz angled a glance at Olivia. "There were two spare seats at Zeke's table." He quickly turned away to introduce another guest to the Indian Prime Minister, until Rowan and Felicia were standing before them. "Prime Minister, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Professor Rowan Pope and his wife, Ms Felicia Adams."
The Indian Prime Minister smiled. "It is my pleasure to meet you, Professor Pope. I was hoping my esteemed host would grant me an audience with both you and his son. I could use determination like yours to help me fight tax evasion by US companies operating in my country."
"I thank you for the compliment, sir," Rowan smiled. "But I think your country is doing very well, and it is we who must learn from you in litigating Big Business."
Fitz cleared his throat.
Rowan stepped back, but not before the Indian Prime Minister said, "Professor Pope, it has been a pleasure meeting you. I hope to be able to speak to you again later this evening."
Fitz glanced at Olivia, who smiled back beatifically.
"How's my favourite First Lady?" Zeke asked, stepping into Olivia's path.
She was on her way back from leaving the Indian Prime Minister's wife happily ensconced in a group with Miss America Nina Davuluri, TV comedian Mindy Kaling, former First Lady Laura Bush and former First Daughter Chelsea Clinton.
"Zeke."
He grinned. "Ooh, frosty. Just the way I like a greeting. Looks like I'll be spending time with your daddy in the dog house."
Olivia gave a bland smile. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Honey, your daddy stood up to The Man. That makes him a hero in my eyes. The least I could do was to give him a seat at my table." He paused to study her face. "Olivia, that shade of red goes nice with your lipstick, hon, but think about the little bun in the oven before you start yellin' at me."
Before Olivia could respond, Cyrus appeared at their elbow. "Whatever it is you are discussing, do you have to talk about it now?"
"We're talking about Olivia's Daddy at my table."
Cyrus looked from Zeke to Olivia. "Right," he said, backing away. "Carry on. Don't, uh, let me stop you from, uh, discussing it." Cyrus narrowly avoided backing into Deepak Chopra and Bill Gates as he made a hasty retreat.
"What was all that about?" Zeke frowned.
Olivia shrugged, turning to face Zeke. "We can't talk about this now. Dinner will be served in a few minutes."
Zeke's customary smile was replaced with a solemn look. "Promise me you'll dance with your father just once tonight."
"He doesn't dance."
"He does. He just didn't tell you about it."
On her way back to the table, she bumped into Cyrus who was watching Oscar and James laughing together in a group with comedians Chris Rock and Aziz Ansari.
"Why don't you go and join them," Olivia murmured.
"I'm no good at small talk."
Olivia turned to look at Cyrus. "Why didn't you like me talking to Zeke?"
Cyrus turned his gaze away from the group and stare in disbelief at Olivia. "You don't know? Olivia," he paused to draw her further away from the crowd before hissing, "Need I remind you that you are both of a certain hue? Every time a white Republican sees more than one of you in a group, they hyperventilate in anticipation of a riot!"
"They better calm down. Fitz is going for more than token representation in his Cabinet. And it's bipartisan."
"Olivia, has love made you naïve? The Democrats are just Republicans with an Ivy League education that didn't cost a library and a generous cheque from Daddy to the Dean's scholarship fund. They both wear the same suits, but one doesn't hide the white hood in the closet."
Then drawing even closer, Cyrus muttered, "FYI, our esteemed leader's bipartisan non-tokenist cabinet took a hit today when Edison Davis packed his bags and left this sinking ship."
"We don't need him. We've got Edison."
"A gay black vigilante?" Cyrus shook his head at Olivia and went after a waiter carrying a tray of champagne.
"All right?" Fitz mouthed as Olivia escorted the Prime Minister's wife back to her seat beside Fitz.
She nodded with a distracted smile, glancing towards Zeke's table. Her father was laughing and chatting with the Indian trade minister. Then as if Rowan sensed her gaze, he paused and glanced over catching Olivia's stare. He smiled.
Olivia instantly averted her gaze, to find Fitz watching her. She gave him a reassuring smile before she turned away to return to her own table, and took her seat beside the Indian Prime Minister.
Between the main and dessert courses, Olivia made a discreet exit. Seeing a bright green shimmer from the corner of her eye, she glanced round to see Felicia a few steps back.
"I don't need an escort," Olivia said briefly.
Felicia glanced over her shoulder at the security detail following them at a distance, and raised her brow at Olivia.
"Correction, I don't need any more escorts than I am required to have under Fitz's orders."
Felicia ignored the implication. "Can we talk? It will only take a moment."
After a long hesitation, Olivia nodded, leading the way into the White House.
"You're angry that your father and I are at the dinner," Felicia said as soon as they entered the Green Room.
"I was surprised."
Felicia gave a brief smile. "Shall we sit?"
Olivia nodded and sat in an armchair, while Felicia took the nearest couch.
They waited in silence, then Felicia looked at her clasped hands and spoke in a measured tone, "Your father is trying to find a way to get close to you, his only child. Rowan accepted Fitzgerald's invitation to stay in this goldfish bowl for just that reason, Olivia."
"Felicia…"
"Olivia, please, I said this would only take a moment, so hear me out. When you returned from China, do you know how happy your father was making a damned cup of tea? You would think it was a life goal for a man who never steps into the kitchen.
"But then you got yourself a midwife, someone who doesn't believe in all that 'weird Asian herbal nonsense', and Rowan was out in the cold again. He doesn't like it there, Olivia. He did what he did, this past week, because he wants to feel close to you again." Felicia looked Olivia squarely in the eye. "He should not be punished for it."
"The way he went about it…"
"… Was to get your attention, and the only way he knew to break free of the patriarchy he's being trying to gain acceptance and inclusion his whole life; when all they gave him in return was disrespect and hate. His first day in law school, they put a noose on his desk; they told him to clean their shoes; they made monkey noises when he opened his mouth to speak. These rich white boys who think they invented manners and civility treated Rowan like that. When he beat all those crackers to get to the top of the class – they said it was because of affirmative action. He bested those boys at every turn and he was made to feel inferior. Do you have any idea what that's like, Olivia?"
"Yes, Felicia, I know exactly what that's like," Olivia returned with quiet dignity.
"Yes, you made it to the top working twice as hard to be half as good, then even better. You can thank your father for that. The hugs and kisses you wanted as a little girl, your father never got as a little boy. But what he never got made him stronger, and that is the gift he gave you. You need to remember that."
Felicia got to her feet. "Next time you want to champion your husband over your own father. Just ask yourself this: What has your man done to improve the lot of our people, besides the tokenism of making you his wife? At least your father tried to help the homeless, Olivia, and you know half of all people living on the street are black."
Felicia walked to the door just as it opened and Fitz barged in, only to stop abruptly before he crashed into the other woman.
"Felicia."
"Fitzgerald."
"Is everything okay?"
"Everything is just fine." Then tilting her chin a little higher, Felicia said, "I was just leaving."
Fitz stared over her shoulder at a silent Olivia, then side-stepped to move towards his wife, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Olivia stood slowly. "I need to pee."
"Livvie…"
"I'll see you back at the marquee." She reached up to touch his cheek, then moved away.
When Olivia stepped into the Cross Hall to return to the marquee, she found Oscar waiting for her, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.
"At your service, m'lady." He straightened and bowed, then extended his arm. "I'm here to escort you back to the festivities."
Olivia wrinkled her nose as she slipped her hand through his arm. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to. Cyrus looked about ready to go off like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The man is jealous for no reason. I don't want James' lilywhite ass."
Olivia chuckled. "Jealousy isn't a sensible emotion."
"Talking from experience?"
"Yes, but I don't want to talk about it."
"Then let's talk about something else."
They walked in silence until Oscar glanced at Olivia. "Heavy thoughts. Want to share your burden?"
"Do you think I'm being too hard on my dad?"
"Yes." He shot back, then smiled briefly. "You asked, honey."
"He's not an easy man to be around."
"There's many things a parent does to prepare their child to go into the world alone, but the hardest thing that a black parent has to do is to make their children ready for a world that wants to keep them down, mostly 6 feet under."
He glanced at Olivia. "You know I ain't lying. We give our lives to protect the freedoms of a country that has enslaved us for 200 years. That ain't easy to live with. When your daddy talks about privilege, he ain't talking about the helping hand that whites give each other; he's talking about the wealth that was built on our blood. It ain't easy for any man to see their precious child taken by a man who represents the folk who kept us in chains then made us beggars and criminals when were we free."
"Fitz is not to blame for all that."
"He may not be to blame but he has benefited, babe, and he's in a position to make reparations. Not as an ordinary man who loves an extraordinary woman but as a president who believes justice is for all not just a few."
"He's trying, Oscar. You know he is. Fitz made Zeke vice president."
"Honey, Zeke is less of a threat to Fitz that that crazy lady Sally Langston. Just because the optics look good doesn't mean we have a seat at the massa's table."
The moment Olivia entered the marquee with Oscar, Fitz gaze zeroed in on her. He broke away from his group, heading towards her, as Oscar slipped away.
"Everything okay?" Fitz murmured, slipping an arm around her.
Olivia closed her eyes for a moment and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
"Livvie, what's wrong?" His arm tightened around her.
She drew back and smiled. "Nothing. Everything's fine."
He studied her face, then invited huskily, "Dance with me."
She went willingly, wanting him to hold her. They blended in with the other couples dancing to the smooth music of the live jazz orchestra.
"This is my excuse to hold you," Fitz murmured, abandoning the standard waltzing pose to gather her in his arms.
"We're not at a club." Olivia smiled as she linked her arms around his neck.
"Sure we are, our very own White House club; privileged access."
Olivia's mood dimmed.
"What's wrong?" He frowned.
"Nothing." Then seeing Rowan on the dance floor with Felicia, she said abruptly, "Fitz, I'd like to dance with my dad."
He raised a brow but didn't say a word as he manoeuvred them closer and interrupted the other couple by blandly inviting Felicia to dance.
The other woman nodded, and put her hand stiffly in Fitz's, leaving Rowan and Olivia facing each other awkwardly.
"Dad."
"Olivia."
Then just when she began regretting her impulse Rowan held out his hand and drew her cautiously into a dance.
"I believe this is the first time you've danced with me, Olivia. I didn't get to dance with you on your wedding day."
"No," Olivia murmured, trying to relax.
"Was this Fitzgerald's idea?"
"No. Mine."
"I see."
Olivia felt her father's shoulders relax and some of the tension left her own body.
They danced in silence until Rowan cleared his throat and said gruffly, "Were you feeling sick just now? Is that why you had to leave?"
"No, I just needed to use the restroom."
"I see." Another pause. "So you're feeling okay?"
"Yes, I'm okay," Then taking a deep breath, she murmured, "I miss your ginger tea."
"You do?"
"I do."
"What about the midwife?"
Olivia shrugged.
There was another pause, then with a glimmer of a smile, Rowan said, "I suppose I could start making the tea again."
"I'd like that."
Olivia looked up from placing her earrings in the jewellery box to see Fitz leaning against the door watching her.
"Are you going to stand there all night?"
"Tell me what happened tonight."
"We served dinner, our guests had a good time and we avoided an international crisis."
"You danced with your dad."
"And I danced with my dad." She agreed, before disappearing into the dressing room.
Fitz followed. When she tried to reach for the zipper at the back of her dress, he came and took over, then made her shiver when his breath feathered her neck. "Tell me you're not avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you." She moved away keeping her back firmly turned as she replaced the dress with a robe, before heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Several minutes later Fitz walked, in dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.
"So this is you not avoiding me?" he asked drily, taking the tube of toothpaste out of her hand.
Olivia stuck the toothbrush into her mouth and feigned a puzzled look.
He tugged the brush out of her mouth with a half-playful, half-serious expression. "I'm not letting this go, Liv."
Olivia stared at the brush in his hand, then turned and took a brand new brush from a drawer, broke the covering and resumed brushing her teeth.
Fitz stared at her, with exasperation joining the other emotions on his face, before he stuck Olivia's toothbrush in his mouth and began to brush his teeth.
"Eww!"
"What?"
"That was in my mouth!"
"I've been in your mouth and you've been in mine." He stuck the brush back in his mouth and grinned.
She looked at that wicked grin and the mischief in his eyes, and asked softly, "Would you have married me if Big Jerry was still around?"
"What?'
"Simple 'yes' or 'no' question, Fitz: would you have married me if your father was still around?"
Fitz rinsed the brush, then his mouth before turning to face her. "Where is this coming from, Olivia?"
"I just need to know if you'd have married the descendant of a slave if your father was against it?"
Fitz looked taken aback, then he lowered his brows and stared at her for a long moment. "Are we having another Sally Hemings-Thomas Jefferson conversation, Olivia? Or am I on trial here for the sins of my forefathers?"
"So you admit there were sins?"
Fitz looked at her, then shook his head and moved away from the vanity, heading out the door.
Olivia quickly rinsed her mouth and rushed out to see Fitz taking spare blankets and a pillow from the shelves.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to sleep on the couch."
"You said you wanted to talk."
"I wanted to talk about us- you and me, Olivia, not the past couple of centuries."
Olivia watched him walk out to the adjoining living room. She stood in the doorway as he turned the couch into a makeshift bed. When he turned off the lamp, she shut the door and crawled into the king-sized bed, which felt strangely vast and alien without Fitz to cuddle next to.
The minutes ticked by close to an hour before Olivia gave up any pretence of sleep and walked into the living room.
"Are you asleep?" she asked into the darkness.
"Yes."
A smile curving her lips, she moved to the couch, and sat on his arm.
"What—!"
"Ssh." She sidled in next to Fitz, then reached for his arms and placed them around her.
"Livvie…" he groaned, his arms tightening around her.
"Pretend this is all a dream. We can go back to fighting in the morning."
In the next instant he'd reached over to turn on the lamp, and he half sat blinking at her, his curls in disarray. Smiling she reached up to comb it back, but he caught and returned her hand to his chest.
"What just happened?"
"I missed you."
"Livvie, what happened before, with us?"
"I just wanted you to see me."
"I do see you. You're beautiful, brilliant and I love you, even when you're driving me crazy."
"I need you to see me as a black woman living in a white world."
"I do see that, Livvie. You know I do."
"And your answer is to put me in bubble wrap and get Tom to keep the nasties away. But you can't keep doing that. You have to realise our child will have an easier journey through this life the more she looks like you, than me. You need to prepare our child for that world, but first you need to open your eyes and see what it's about."
"Right now? Can we get some sleep first?"
Olivia smiled, laying her head on his chest and slipping her arms around him.
He pressed a kiss onto her forehead, then said gruffly, "Your father turned you into a tough little warrior princess and my father turned me into a shell of a man who didn't believe I was good at anything. I don't want to repeat the sins of our fathers, Livvie."
"Our fathers had different intentions. Mine was to protect me, yours couldn't stand the fact that you were better than he was and would always be."
Fitz tightened his arms around her. "You saw who I am, and told me I needed to show the rest of them what you see in me."
"You did show them."
"With the help of Defiance, Ohio."
"You would have showed them anyway. And you'll show them again this November."
He stroked a thumb over her cheek and kissed her gently. "The answer is yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Livvie, I'd have married you because there was never any doubt in my mind that I wanted you in my life. No matter what."
Olivia snuggled closer, lifting her mouth to his but Fitz broke-away mid-kiss to ask gruffly, "Are we having a little girl?"
"What?"
"You said 'she' – are we having a little girl?"
"I don't know, Fitz. It just came out that way. She might be a 'he'."
"I'd like a girl. A little mini you."
"What if she's a mini Professor Pope."
"I'll get Jerry to babysit."
Olivia gurgled a laugh.
Grinning Fitz kissed her and kissed her again before muttering against her lips, "Livvie…?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Do we have to stay all night on the couch?"
A/N: So I was going to do my usual thing of meandering blissfully through the minefields of reality with trite references, then one of my lovely reviewers Clio1792 sent me the following link:
features/archive/2014/05/the-case-for-reparations/361631/
As I know Fanfiction will swallow up the URL, see The Case for Reparations , a beautiful and heart-wrenching article written by Ta-Nehisi Coates, published in The Atlantic, May 21, 2014
After reading that, I wanted to be a little less trite about the minefields of reality. I know Rowan isn't liked by some of my readers, but some of you understand where he's coming from.
I live in Australia – where Aboriginal Australians are denigrated and abused. I have read their history and I marvel at the resilience of these people who've had their lives and land taken, their culture destroyed, their families stolen and their rights subjugated. There is no therapy offered to entire groups of people who have been abused by another.
Rowan was always meant to be my representation of what I understood (but have not experienced) about Slavery in America; of how a man has to be hard in order to avoid the hurt he knows has been done to his people in the past. This chapter was my response to the Coates' article that reparations are a small gesture in comparison to all that's been taken and lost. That was the reasoning behind this chapter.
Now back to my usual triteness ;)
Thank you all so much for the lovely comments, hehehe – I know I'm among like-minded friends who don't like reading about psycho-sociopaths ;)
I have gone for a longer chapter – felt it's the least I can do considering how long I'm taking to write now :/. I am so sorry to keep you waiting but the brain cells are holidaying on a Tropical Island while the body is stuck in rainy flu-inducing Melbourne. Not fair!
BTW, someone [anonymous] asked me not to jump the shark – I've stopped watching the show because it's so non-Olitz, but I have to say in my last story I killed Mellie and that was a leap too far over a shark for some readers. All I can promise is that this story will always be Olitz centric. Beyond that, my plots will vary according to my rate of sleep deprivation. So keep the chocolate and cute animals jifs/gifs at hand.
Also I keep inserting reality sound bites into the story in a totally unrealistic way, so I'm glad you are going on this ride despite all that ;) and the lack of smut (although I have to admit I am seriously inspired by the porn I occasionally I get on my Tumlbr dash but I still find it difficult to translate the images into words without giggling like a twit)
Some reality checks for this chapter : India has a new Prime Minister, but this is based on the previous Prime Minister's visit to US in 2009. There were a lot more articles I could plagiarise!
Also I have no idea how one enters from the South Lawn to the White House and if the Green Room is the nearest logical choice (BTW, do these rooms have bathrooms? Where do State Dinner guests go to pee?) so I kind of made stuff up based on the last article on the list below!
Anyway here are the references, that inspired me :
Michelle Obama, Jill Biden, Hillary Clinton Don Indian-Inspired Ensembles At Arrival Ceremony (PHOTOS) (X)
2State dinner (X)
White House Facts › The White House State Dinner (X)
The White House's Dinner Theater (X)
OH and Defiance really existed but not as Defiance!
Diebold's Political Machine (X)
Chelsea Clinton paid up to $75K for speeches (X)
List of Indian Americans (X)
Google: Don't Be Evil, Don't Pay Tax (X)
Excerpt: "Most of the major financial institutions and internet companies have currently got big problems in India. They're spending millions and millions in litigation," India is the most aggressive country in the world when it comes to asserting its right to tax.
Read full story: feature/google-dont-be-evil-dont-pay-tax/261/
NFIA Press Release for State Dinner at White House (X)
Obama's first state dinner blends pageantry with politics (X)
Obama hosted one of the best dinners: Manmohan (X)
Breaking Bread with Barack Obama (X)
A Walk on the White House Lawn (X)