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.

36. Chap 19 All Fur Coat and No Knickers 4

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'.

All Fur Coat and No Knickers Part 4

Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

Shut up when I'm talking to you
Shut up, shut up, shut up
Shut up when I'm talking to you
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up

I'm about to BREAK

One Step Closer – Linkin Park

---

Fitz was laid flat out on his back, snoring away, and pretending to be fast asleep.

He smirked when he heard his bedroom double doors being swept open and Teddy's indiscreet whispering to Camille.

He flipped over onto his stomach and tucked his pillow under his chin.

Teddy widened the door and Camille followed behind him. She was carrying a surprise breakfast for Fitz on lacquer white tray, all the way from the breakfast kitchen to the master bedroom, spilling very little, but there was little she could do about the clashing together of cutlery.

"Be careful," stage-whispered Teddy.

"I am," she hissed back.

"Shhh, you'll wake Daddy."

Fitz popped one eye open. "I hear not one, but two annoying children," he grumbled.

Teddy covered his mouth to stifle his excitable laughter. He squealed and clambered on top of his father's back. He playfully slapped and shook Fitz's shoulders. "Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! Look! Look! See!"

Fitz moaned into his pillow. "What's going on?" he asked drowsily.

Earlier, Yetta had given Fitz a heads-up about the kids coming down and asking for permission to make him breakfast; and now he was dutifully playing along.

With their housekeeper's help, the kids had successfully prepared two poached eggs, piles of toast, freshly squeezed orange juice and coffee.

Loudly exhaling, Fitz flexed his back and peered over his shoulders. A big grin spread across his face at Teddy's excitement and Camille standing by his bedside holding the tray as if her life depended on it. He saw they were still dressed in their PJs.

"Good morning," Fitz said to them both.

Teddy climbed off Fitz and kissed his cheek. "Morning, Daddy. See what we did?"

Fitz stretched his long stiff limbs. He shifted the pillows against the bedhead, as he moved into an upright position. Reclining, he faked a yawn and then rubbed his stubble chin. "What have I done to deserve breakfast in bed?" he asked, blinking his eyes wide open.

"It's a surprise," said Teddy, looking at Camille to expand. He didn't know much more than that. She'd woken him up and told him her idea and asked if he wanted to help. After last night's incident with the candy bar, Teddy was happy to go along with her plan, to show how sorry he was for the trouble he'd caused.

Offering the tray to Fitz, Camille tilted her head to one side and locked eyes with Fitz. "Good morning, this is for you, I wanted to say thanks," she said timidly.

Fitz collected the tray. "Well that's very kind and thoughtful of you… both of you. Thank you." He gazed approvingly at the delightful spread. "You made all this?"

Camille quickly nodded. "Yeah, sort of... Yetta helped out... making sure we poached your eggs -"

"I put," butt in Teddy, and used his fingers to count. "One, two, three, four oranges, in the machine."

"I would've made your coffee but your machine is waaay more complicated than Mom's. It has so many different knobs and buttons," chuckled Camille, as she shook her head.

Fitz smiled and his eyes fell to the spot beside him and back at Camille. She got the silent invitation and released another bashful smile. She carefully climbed on and sat up alongside him, doing her best not to disturb the tray.

Gazing at his first meal of the day Fitz was practically bursting with pride and joy. "This is fantastic! You've both gone to a lot of effort. Thank you," he repeated, and took a long drink of chilled juice.

Meanwhile Teddy cheekily pinched a slice of toast, causing Fitz to stop drinking and start spluttering as though he were choking. "Hey, what are you doing? This is supposed to be my breakfast," he complained, gently swatting away Teddy's hand, only to be caught out by Camille nabbing a slice too.

Fitz huffed grouchily.

The kids laughed at him pouting like a big kid.

Tucking into his eggs, Fitz glanced at Camille. "You didn't go over to the stables?"

Camille shrugged her shoulders. "I was gonna, but I had a brainwave and decided to fix you breakfast-in-bed."

The pleasant atmosphere encouraged Fitz to mention his meeting at the hospital. "On the subject of fixing, there's something I need to talk to you about. Do you remember yesterday, I had met with Dr. Ramen?"

"Uh-huh," replied Camille, wiping crumbs from her lips and lap.

"Dr. Ramen wasn't alone, he was with another head trauma specialist, called Dr. Bergner. They worked together worked in Israel at a hospital where Dr. Bergner is the chief consultant, specializing in head injuries. He believes Olivia would benefit from being placed in a machine called a pressurized cabin, which supplies oxygen to the brain and Dr. Ramen is in agreement."

"Oh?" replied a perplexed-looking Camille. "They're not doing the stimulation, sensory thingy, anymore?"

"Yes, but afterwards. They're confident this extra oxygen will help."

"Like a booster?"

"Yes," nodded Fitz. "I couldn't have put it better myself. The doctors said patients have been known to physically respond while undergoing treatment."

Camille stared hopefully at Fitz. "Really, do they think Mom will wake up?"

"Maybe, similar to the stimulation, there's no guarantee she'll return to full consciousness. We just have to keep our fingers crossed," explained Fitz.

Teddy frowned. "Daddy, what does con-shoes, um, con-shoes-nest mean?"

"Consciousness," corrected Fitz, gently. "It means being awake, like you are now. When you sleep, you're unconscious, and when you're awake it means you're conscious, full consciousness."

Teddy slowly nodded and repeated the word. "Con-scious-ness." He was satisfied with his father's answer.

Camille looked earnestly at Fitz. "You say it's a cabin with oxygen. Will I be allowed to be there?"

"The cabin is really a glass cylinder. The room itself is fairly small and the doctors don't think it's an appropriate place for children."

"Only adults are allowed?"

"Yes."

Camille half-smiled. "I get it. You wanted to speak to Uncle Stephen on your own because you didn't want me to worry." Camille turned to look at the photographer of him and her mom on the nightstand, she let out a low soft sigh. "Um… maybe the doctors and nurses doing stuff to Mom isn't something I wanna see."

"I thought you liked the idea of seeing how the doctors are working to help Livvie get better," countered Fitz.

Nodding as she switched her attention back to Fitz. "I dunno... it's just that… if I saw Mom move or make a sound and didn't wake up, I think it would upset me more."

Fitz took her hand and clutched it to his chest. "I understand But I don't want you to feel like you're being pushed out."

"I don't. I've been at the hospital virtually every day… Mom knows how much I love her and want her to get better. She doesn't need to see me upset. You told me at the beginning you wanted people to be happy around Mom, and that's the person I want to be. Happy."

Fitz nodded, thoughtfully. He was startled by Camille's new approach but respected her wishes. "I can't argue with you, when you state your case so eloquently. But if you change your mind...?" he drifted off.

"Just promise to report every single thing that goes on."

"I will."

"You better," she jokingly warned him.

"Stephen's agreed to bring you, Teddy and Gerry up to the hospital this afternoon. Is that okay with you?"

"It okay with me."

"Okay," said Fitz with deep relief.

"Okay," repeated Camille.

"Okay," chimed in Teddy, wanting to be part of their game.

The three of them laughed.

Taking a bite of his toast, Fitz thought he couldn't have asked for a better start to the day.

---

Two hours later Fitz was dressed casually in a check woven-cotton shirt and chinos. He was set to leave for the Santa Barbara Medical Hospital.

On route downstairs, he bumped into Yetta, who informed him that after breakfast the children, along with Mellie and Stephen, were hanging out by the pool. The news pleased Fitz and he walked with an extra swag in his step as he made his way outdoors to say goodbye.

Outside in the warm morning sunshine Gerry and Camille were splashing around nosily in the pool. They were in the midst of a boisterous water fight. Camille was flapping her hands in the air and running to get away from Gerry, who was closing in on her. He suddenly froze and called out. "Oh my God! Look!"

Camille whizzed around to face him, her eyes darting everywhere. "What?"

Gerry's hands were perfectly posed on the surface and he shunted water, hitting her square in the face.

"Ugh," Camille coughed and spluttered. She repeatedly blinking and shaking her head furiously, to get rid of the excess water from her eyes and nose.

Gerry roared with laughter. "Admit it, I got you good?"

"You wait," she threatened, checking on her hair was still securely tied in a ponytail and trailing down her back.

Damp and taking a rest from the pool activities was Teddy. He was sat in between Mellie and Stephen, who were both drinking homemade iced-tea, while he contently sucked on a popsicle. Licking his icy treat his big blue eyes were glued to Gerry chasing a screaming Camille with an inflated donut pool float. "Mommy see, I told you, Gerry's too rough."

Mellie arched her eyebrows at Gerry's antics and turning to Teddy, gingerly pushed away his damp hair and brushed his cheek. "My poor baby," she cooed.

"Go back in and show him who's boss," Stephen said light heartedly.

"I will! Cam and I are gonna get him," vowed Teddy, glaring determinedly at his big brother.

Fitz let out a booming laugh. His chest swelled with elation at the playful sight. "I see you guys are having fun."

"Daddy!" Teddy's delight never diminished seeing his dad. The feeling was mutually. Fitz's heart always skipped a beat in the company of his children, especially now Camille was a part of family life.

With Fitz's arrival, Camille and Gerry agreed to postpone their water fight and jumped out of the pool. Both kids grabbed towels laid out on the sun loungers.

"Hey Dad, you making a move?" questioned Gerry, vigorously drying off.

Fitz's glittering smile dimmed as he looked on with concern at the sight of Gerry's swollen and colorful facial injury. "Yes," was his guarded reply. "Ger, you sure you don't need to see a doctor about that bruise under your eye? It might be worth calling Dr. Evans and arranging a home visit."

Gerry shook his head. "Seriously, Dad, it looks worse than it is. And anyway, this family's overdosing on doctors at the moment," he jibed.

"Do you have time for a coffee or iced-tea before you hit the road?" asked Stephen.

Fitz patted his stomach. "Thanks, but I'm still stuffed from my breakfast-in-bed, and I'm running behind schedule."

"Yeah, what's this I hear about the docs putting Aunt Liv in a pressurized cabin?" Gerry asked.

Fitz briefly explained the new procedure to Gerry, while cautiously looking over at Camille. She didn't appear bothered, which he took as a good sign.

"Will you be there when they move Mom?" asked Camille, as she dressed in the pink shorts, she wore at yesterday's tennis knockabout, over her one-piece swim suit. She wrapped the towel around her upper body and secured it tightly.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Fitz rocked back on his leather loafers' heels. "I hope so," he replied.

"Make sure they're extra carefully."

"I'll be watching like a hawk," he assured her, with a friendly wink.

She conjured up a sunny smile. "Good."

Fitz checked the time on his watch, and then looked over at Stephen. "I've made arrangements to travel with Bill this morning. Tom and Douglas will be accompanying you guys this afternoon."

Stephen tipped his head at the plan. "Works for me."

Teddy's arms flew up into the air. "Me too, me too, I'm coming, I'm coming!" he exclaimed, bouncing up and down - full of beans.

Mellie coughed loudly, and garnered everyone's attention. "You Theodore Grant are staying home, today," she said decisively. "Please don't look at me like that. This is your punishment for being caught with candy after meal times, and not owning up."

Teddy's bubbly smile vanished into thin air. His eyes became watery and his shoulders began to shake, as his chest was heaving up and down in a disturbing manner. His lips began quivering and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I-I-I said I-I-I s-s-sorry," he stuttered and blubbered.

"It's very good of you to apologize. But that doesn't alter the fact you sneaked candy into your room when you've been told time and time again: no candy after dinner."

"Pl-please M-Mommy."

"Rules are rules," was Mellie's unfeeling response.

"Argh!" Teddy screamed, in a fit of rage. He smashed his little fists down on the table. Crockery and cutlery clashed and fell from jars and plates onto the table. Two half drunk coffee cups overturned in their saucers and ebony brown liquid seeped into the tablecloth.

With hot tears streaming down his face, Teddy wailed over and over again. "It's not fair, it's not fair."

Excluding Mellie, everyone was stunned. They'd stopped what they were doing and anxiously looked over at the red faced four year old.

Teddy clumsily grabbed the table and shoved his weight against the back of his seat, the chair legs screeched along the marble tiles - akin to fingernails down a blackboard - across the hard floor, and the front legs tipped up. Teddy jumped down.

"You're the meanest mommy in the world!" he balled at Mellie. And before anyone could stop him, he sprinted off, pushing and kicking anything that stood in his way.

An ugly atmosphere ensued.

Fitz's piercing azure eyes glowered with unfiltered loathing at Mellie. It had been on the tip of his tongue to leap to Teddy's defense. However he and Mellie had an agreement to stand united when it came to disciplining the children. Much as he wanted to bend that rule, he couldn't. His only option was remain tight lipped, and cope with the sickie feeling attacking his stomach, thanks to Mellie's warped sense of justice. Mercifully, the one thing she couldn't do was stop him from consoling his little boy.

Unfazed by Teddy's outburst and death stare from Fitz, Mellie's emotionless eyes inspected the mess on the table. She calmly picked up her serviette and dabbed the corners of mouth. "Someone needs to clean up the this mess," she commented, eyeing the area for a member of staff.

Fitz jammed his hands into his trouser pockets. "That's your primary concern right now?" he questioned sharply. "I'm gonna go find Teddy." And he stalked off in search of his hysterical son.

The dreadful ugly silence remained in full effect.

Gerry locked eyes with his mom and frowned. "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

Mellie rolled her eyes and casually shrugged off Gerry's disapproval. "No, I do not. Your brother has to learn from his naughty behaviour," she asserted, pompously.

Stephen was internally seething but knew it wasn't his place to get involve in family affairs, until he heard the quick shallow breaths coming from Camille. He glanced over to her and saw she was unconsciously wrapping her towel tightly around her body in protection mode. "Camille, if you're done out here, why don't you go and get changed and show me your new bedroom, mmm?"

"Yeah, let's do that," Camille mumbled, anxious to escape.

"It is good your father's thinking ahead," commented Mellie.

Camille huffed out rudely. Her patience was wearing thin. She caught Mrs. Grant's underhand comment and it riled her up. She took a sharp inhale, ready for battle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

In unison, Gerry and Stephen promptly looked towards Camille. Their eyes were flashing warning signs to not let Mellie's snide comment get under her skin.

Camille paid no mind to their 'warning' stares. Enough was enough. She was fed-up with Mrs. Grant's incessant maliciousness and her constantly trying to drive a wedge between Camille and her brothers.

No one could argue that Camille hadn't gone out of her way to be well-mannered and friendly. However the woman was determined to play the role of wicked step-mother and act unkindly at the slightest provocation. Now all bets were off.

"I was wondering… could you see yourself moving from New York to LA?" asked Mellie.

"I love New York," Camille replied in a cold and blunt manner.

"I don't doubt it. But this is a very different life compared to the one you're used to living with your mother."

Staring Mellie down, Camille told her in no uncertain terms. "I'm very lucky. My Mom makes sure I always have everything I need. I hope I grow up to be just like her, clever enough to set up and run my own business, unlike some women, who's ambition it is to become a real life Barbie Doll, and spend their days worrying about their next designer outfit; and calling that a real job."

Mellie smarted at Camille's blatant insult. "I can assure you, Camille, the role of First Lady is, was extraordinary demanding."

"Yeah right," scoffed Camille, rolling her eyes. "Shaking hands and cutting ribbons, must be real taxing on the brain."

Mellie gasped. A surge of white hot anger slammed through her body. "You ignorant -"

"Camille, tell us about that painting Dad brought you at auction, what the artist's name again?" asked Gerry, quickly muscling in on their heated conversation.

Camille severed eye contact with Mellie and took a slow breath. Her expression softened and she broke into a faint smile, thinking about her favorite subject. "Romare Bearden. He's amazing. When we lived in Europe, I had this private art tutor, called Floyd Mitchell, who was really over the top and flamboyant and funny. He introduced me to Romare's work because he was teaching me how to create surrealists and collages pictures. Romare was a famous collagist and he worked with different materials like paper, tin fold, practically anything he could get his hands on."

Gerry clicked his fingers together. "Yes, I remember hearing his name in the 9th grade in my art class. What's your painting called?" asked Gerry, determined to steer Camille away from any further confrontation with his mother.

"Morning Guitar."

"I'd love to see it. Did Dad tell you about our art collection?"

"Yeah, he said that what he owns, he brought on advice from his investors."

"Now we have you to advise him," wise-cracked Gerry.

Camille and Stephen chuckled.

"When it comes to art: Cezanne, Rembrandt and Picasso are on my wish list, if your father's ever interested," remarked Stephen wittily.

Camille laughed out loud. "It's not about the price tag."

"Except when it comes to buying one's affection," bitched Mellie under her breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Camille's smile cracked and become a hostile scowl. Her nose twitched like something was off. "What did you say?"

Mellie shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "I was merely commenting that a painting like that doesn't come cheap. Not a gift your average children's orthodontist can afford. Your father is a very generous man."

"Mom, cut it out," warned Gerry evenly, as he narrowed his eyes.

Camille gripped her towel tightly to her heaving chest and lowered her chin. Chilly cocoa eyes glared ominously at Mellie. "How do you know Jake's a dentist?"

Instinctively, Mellie's hand flew held her throat. Oh dear, she thought. Too busy trying to win every verbal battle, her naturally reactive nature was about to land her in hot water.

On edge from Camille's unwavering glare, Mellie sought out a distraction, she picked up and toyed with her iced-tea.

The tension was getting thicker by the millisecond.

Camille smacked her lips together. "I didn't tell anyone what Jake did for a living, so how did you know? Unless you've been sticking your nose in his business," she carried on doggedly, knowing she had lit a dynamite.

"Camille," warned Stephen softly.

"You must've mentioned it in passing," fobbed off Mellie.

"Get real. You're the last person I would talk to about anything."

Backed into a corner and feeling threathened, Mellie slammed down her drink. "What right do you have to speak to me in this disrespectful manner?"

Undeterred, Camille jabbed an accusing finger at Mellie. "You give me the right, with your spitefulness and stuck up attitude."

Feeling defensive and out of control, Mellie swiftly change tactic, and adopted a little lost girl facade. Blinking and sniffling as though on the verge of tears, she turned to Gerry for support.

"Do you hear these false accusations?" her wounded voice asked of her son.

Gerry's eyes were frantically zipping between Camille and his mom. He was definitely caught between a rock and a hard place.

"Cam, you can't go around…" he began resignedly, in an attempt to appease his mother.

"Disrespecting your betters and making up lies," filled in Mellie.

"You're the liar!" fired back Camille, fiercely.

"Whoa, dial it down, Camille," said an alarmed-looking Gerry. Witnessing the pair battling like two fighting deer, with their antlers entangled, was an assault on the ears and made his stomach churn.

"You insolent child," fumed Mellie.

"I'm insolent. That's rich coming from you. I've tried to be nice to you, even though I know how much you hate me, and my Mom. Yesterday, you put on a show, pretending to be cool and worried about me after Gerry's fight, but everything you say or do is poison. You're constantly reminding me of what you really think about me. I'm the half bred that ruined your perfect life, and as long as I'm around, you're never going to let me forget it," blasted Camille.

Panting hard and blinking back tears, she stood strong, although internally she was shaking like a leaf.

Stephen got up and approached Camille. He attempted to calm her down with a soothing hand on the shoulder. "Camille, honey, why don't we-"

Camille flicked away his hand, and re-gripped the towel around her trembling body. "No," she told him firmly, not breaking eye contact with Mellie. Her adrenaline rush was taking over. She was pumped up and on a roll. "My Mom stole your husband and you blame me. You think I don't deserve to live in this house with my Dad or my brothers, because in your eyes I'm not a bonafide Grant. You want me to feel ashamed and disappear. You think I'm an embarrassing mistake. But don't worry Mrs. Grant, because everything you think about me, I've been feeling about myself - my whole life! So go ahead and take your best shot! I can take it."

Camille's heartbeat was pounding so hard she could hear ringing in her eyes.

"Well really, where has this all come from?" gasped Mellie.

Camille had pulled the rug from under her feet and come out fighting. She'd thrown down the gauntlet and challenged Mellie to hit back if she dare!

Mellie clutched her heaving chest as though she were the victim.

"There's no audience to impress, so stop with the pretenses," said Camille, rolling her eyes in a condescending manner. She was indifferent to the woman's feelings, whatever they may be.

"Both of you stop it," thundered Gerry, hoping his aggressive tone would bring a stop the fiery exchange.

Camille's aggression journeyed from Mellie to Gerry. "No, I won't. She gets her kicks out of having a pop at me, every chance she gets. Or are you gonna stand there and deny it?"

Knocked back by her angrier response, Gerry lowered his voice. "You're pissed cos Teddy's been grounded and you can't go with Dad," he muttered.

Camille's eyes widened with incredulity. Stunned he'd come up with that weak-ass argument. "You're blaming me?" she asked in sheer astonishment. Could he be that blind to his mom's bitchiness?

"Gerry, darling, I'm sorry, but I'm no longer prepared to live under the same roof as this… this mischief maker. Unless she apologies for making these slanderous accusations, I'll be forced to leave with you and Teddy. Today."

Camille's heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Panic set in. She rolled her lips tightly together and went stone-cold silent as fear ripped through her. Livid, she maybe, but the thought of Teddy and Gerry leaving due to her altercation with their mother, made her rethink her decision to shoot off her mouth.

"Let's not make any rash decisions," interjected Stephen tactfully. "Camille, sweetheart, it's understandable if you're feeling a little emotional, but you can't take your temper out on Mellie. Please, admit you got it wrong and apologize."

Camille's head whizzed round and she looked at her uncle with distressed-looking eyes. "You want me apologize, for what? She's a bully and -"

"You made a serious accusation," cut across Stephen.

Camille was fiercely blinking back tears of anger and frustration. She gulped several times, so as not to allow her restrained tears to fall.

Mellie sighed. "Fine, if that's your attitude, there's nothing more to say." She pushed back in her chair and went to get up.

Gerry dropped his head and pinched the bridge of nose. He too was freaked out by his mother's threat, acutely aware her decision to pack up and leave would spoil Karen's homecoming and ultimately shatter his father's dream.

"Do you?" persisted Stephen.

Camille bowed her head in defeat and begrudgingly shook her head. "No," she admitted, like a sore loser. Quick as a flash, her head flipped back up defiantly. "But can't you see, this is what she wants, she's been itching to make trouble from the start. She's jealous and hates me getting on with everyone."

"Jealous?" ridiculed Mellie. Arching her eyebrows, she glanced at Stephen. "Has this child lost her mind?"

"Camille, c'mon, I think there's been some kind of a mix up. Please tell Mom you're sorry and we can forget about this," said Gerry, diplomatically, and nodded his head in his mother's direction. Camille's followed his signal.

At the sight of Mellie sitting upright, and giving off a snooty air, Camille's chest tightened and she gritted her teeth. She exhaled loudly and momentarily closed her eyes to try and conjure up an apology from deep within her. It was harder than she imagined.

"Camille…" coaxed Stephen.

Camille sucked in her cheeks and breathed out noisily. After several tense-filled seconds, she did the impossible, she looked Mellie dead in the eye. "I'm sorry."

Mellie's downturned mouth transformed into a winner's superior smile. She nodded her head in acknowledgment. "Good. I'm glad that's all sorted. Let's move –"

Without waiting for Mellie to finish her sentence, Camille followed in the footsteps of Teddy and fled. Sprinting away, she took no interest in where she was going as her barefoot beat down on the paved ground.

She was boiling angry. It killed her that Mrs. Grant had been the one to spoil everyone's fun with her petty vindictiveness, and yet, Camille was the one being forced to back down and apologize. It left her feeling crazy and wanting to pour the jug of iced-tea over Mrs. Grant's pretentious head, so the best thing to do was run before she really did lose her mind.

---

Worried by her quick get-a-way, Gerry jogged in her direction. "I'll go and make sure she's okay."

"Sounds like a good idea," said Stephen amicably.

Mellie theatrically sighed. "Heavens above! What a fuss about nothing. That young girl has a very active imagination." Never one to quit, she was trying her level best to convey she was the injured party.

Stephen methodically rubbed his chin and fixed his critical eyes on Mellie, studying her reaction with a huge dose of mistrust. "Camille is very similar to her mother. She wouldn't blurt something out, unless she instinctively felt there was a grain of truth in it."

Taking a deep breath, Mellie looked disparagingly at him. "Stephen, I don't wish to sound impolite, but I'm not going to sit here and listen to anymore nonsense. I have better things to do with my time."

"I'm sure you do."

Mellie flashed a dirty look at him. Unflappable, Stephen stared blankly, and watched will cool detachment as Mellie huffed ungraciously, got up and totted away. He rested back in his chair, contemplating the heated exchange between Camille and Mellie. He referred to his watch and did a mental calculation regarding the time difference between LA and Washington. He realized it didn't matter. The person he was calling would answer his phone in a heartbeat. He scrolled through his contacts and selected the number.

"Yeah?" answered a gruff male voice.

"Huck, it's me, Stephen."

"I know."

Stephen rubbed his forehead. "I need a favour. How quickly can you trace everyone Millicent Grant's been in communication with since she arrived in Santa Barbara?"

"Depends on how many calls she's placed. Why, what's going on?" asked Huck in a deeply distrustful voice.

"I don't have any specific proof, but I do believe in the last few days, she may've been in contact with Jake Ballard."

There was a pause.

Stephen coughed. "Huck, you still there?"

"Does Grant know what you're up to?"

"No, does it matter?"

"No."

"I'm on it."

"Good man."

"I'll be in touch as soon as I find out anything," grunted Huck in his typical standoffish manner.

"I'll keep my phone close by… you can call me anytime, morning, noon or night, you got that?"

"Huh-uh."

"Do you need Mellie's number? I'm able to-"

"I got it. Bye." The line when dead before Stephen had a chance to respond.

"Jeez, goodbye to you too," he mumbled, as he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

---

In the distance Gerry saw Camille's ponytail swinging as she kicked up her heels. He saw she was heading in the direction of the gates and ran faster.

Chest tight and panting breathlessly, Camille was suddenly overcome with tiredness. Engaging with her surroundings, she discovered she was at the main entrance and a few hundred yards away two parked vehicles. Waiting by the cars were his agents, private security and driver.

Feeling emotionally and physically drained her legs gave away and slumped down outside the steps outside olive green front door.

"Cam!" Gerry called out, breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath. "Why'd ya run off?"

Camille gave him a moody glare and sucked her teeth. "Why, do I need to go back and apologize to your mother for breathing?" she asked sarcastically.

Riled up by her sharp retort, Gerry barked. "Gimmie a break!" He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath to lower his temper. "I thought you were gonna show off your new bedroom to Stephen?"

"Huh!" she jeered. "What new room? Everyone's made it real clear, I'm the unwelcome guest!"

Gerry's head jerked back. "When have I ever made you feel like that?" he asked, deeply offended by her statement.

"About five minutes ago."

Bending down, and invaded her personal space, he pointed at his cheek, highlighting his bruises. "What the hell do ya think I got this for?"

"I dunno. Maybe you wanted to impress your girlfriend," she retorted coldly.

"You know what Camille, I should hate my Dad for what he's put my Mom through to be with your mom."

"Oh, poor Gerry, it must really suck to be you."

Gerry breathed hard. He was stunned by her indifference. "Forget it. I can't be bothered arguing with you."

"Good. Go. Leave me alone," she snapped.

"You go to hell," he yelled in frustration. He stormed past her, up the steps and wrenched the front door open.

Camille winced hearing the door bang shut! Great, she thought bitterly, I can add Gerry to the list of people who hate me.

---

Fed-up, Gerry began shaking his head as he took in his mini-shouting match with Camille and the poolside fracas. Did she honestly think he was the enemy?

Alert to another door swinging opening, his head shot up. It was Mellie looking subdued.

"Where is she?" she asked, in a brittle manner.

"Outside, sulking," he grumbled, shifting his head towards the front door.

"Oh dear, how sad. I wouldn't worry about it, let madam sulk. She's probably regretting her very embarrassing display."

"I'm gonna go find Teddy. Knowing him, he'll have gone and hidden somewhere in the basement."

"Rather you than me," she clucked, releasing a stressful sigh and massaging her temple.

Gerry recognized what his mother was angling for, in her less than subtle manner. "Um… what with everything that's gone on this morning, I think I'm gonna give the hospital a miss and stay with you and Teddy."

Straightaway, Mellie lifted her head and smiled gleefully. "Are you sure darling? I don't want you to feel you have to change your plans because of me."

With a hint of a smile, Gerry assured her. "I want to. You go and rest."

---

Gerry gone. For the first time, Camille was true to her every emotion. Lowering her head to her knees, she broke down and cried her heart out.

Her misery wrapped in regret and self-doubt. She hated falling out with Gerry and no longer felt justified about speaking rudely to Mrs. Grant. As tears spattered onto her bare arms, she had to concede it did seem kind of ridiculous and outlandish. But she'd been so enraged and wound up by Lady Macbeth's antics, she went on the attack. What made it a zillion times Gerry and Uncle Stephen pulled her up on it. She felt isolated and that everyone was against her and all because she'd stupidly played into Mrs. Grant's hands.

Camille felt that more than ever, she needed a miracle. She needed this new course of treatment on her mom to work. Despite her commitment to making friends with her new family, everything was going spectacularly wrong. Clouding her thoughts was that horrible creeping feeling that she was the outsider. That matter what she said or did, she didn't fit in. She would always be the interloper.

She despondently picked at the towel's fabric and sighed. She felt drained and weak, when she needed to be strong and resilient. Battling to stay optimistic for her mom was tough enough, she didn't have and reserve energy to deal with Millicent Grant.

She balked hearing a male voice gently cough and raised her head. Squinting, she shielded her wet eyes against the sun to find Tom standing in front of her and holding a packet of pocket tissues. The right corner of her smile twitched upwards.

"Thanks," she murmured. His kind gesture made her feel a tiny bit better.

"No problem." He left to rejoin his colleagues.

Camille sniffled intermittently as she dried her tears. What a difference a day makes, she thought bitterly. Yesterday, she was peacemaker today she was mischief-maker.

Her thoughts then drifted back to last night and his wonderful bedroom bombshell. The room was evidence he'd brought this house with her in mind. It was the one positive thing she could grasped onto and she let her mind take her back to a happier time, that seemed liked a century ago.

***Flashback***

"Wow!" Camille gasped breathlessly. "You're kidding me! This is my room?"

"It sure is," replied Fitz, with a jubilant smile. He was exceedingly pleased by her reaction. He beckoned to her. "Come in and take a look around."

Heart surging in her chest, Camille entered, and began exploring the vast room. She reached out and as she walked, ran her hand across the smooth bare walls. As her curiosity increased, she began weaving in and out of doors. One led to a walk-in closet, another to en-suite bathroom. Similar to guest room, there were steps taking her into a small living room area. Walking over to one the large windows, she scrunched up her eyes and could make out a decked-out balcony and two sun loungers. She stepped back and revisited the closet. She couldn't help making comparisons with her room back in New York.

Camille, told herself, this is my room, this is my home. She was on the verge of pinching herself.

"Whoa! The size of this closet! I need to own a whole department store of clothes to fill it!" she exclaimed, jokingly.

"I thought you and Karen - being girls - would appreciate the space."

Her eyes flittered to the large package, she asked. "What's that?"

"It's for you."

Intrigued by its shape and his answer, she crossed the floor, and her eyes narrowed in confusion, wondering what the hell it could be. She dropped to her knees in front of the flat square-shaped parcel and saw a gift tag marked with a gigantic 'X'.

Fitz anxiously cleared his throat. "Uh, I guess you could call it a welcome home present."

She scooted forward and dropped her head to one side. She pulled off the tag and placed it on the floor. She scratched at the brown paper making a small tear and very slowly pulled at the tear. Soon she could see a myriad of bright dark lines and bright colors coming into view. Her jaw dropped and she gasped in amazement. No way, it can't be, she thought, rapidly blinking as bold and vibrant colors and shapes peaking through; and as she continued ripping the paper apart, she reveal a collage and watercolor painting depicting a kitchen scene, featuring two black women preparing food, and a man was sat in a chair and playing the guitar, while a dog waited for scraps.

In amazement, she covered her open mouth and shook her head to try and make sense of the unbelievable sight.

He didn't… did he? A huge grin broke out across her face. He absolutely did!

"You!" she exclaimed, looking up at Fitz and then at the piece by one of American's finest collagist.

Camille was gasping, blinking, and pointing at the masterpiece. She was completely flabbergasted. "When? How? How did you know? I'm completely, I-I don't know what to say!" It was too much to take in. His generosity was like a bombardment to her senses.

Fitz released a modest laugh. "I take it you like it?"

"Like it? Are you kidding me? I. Love. It. Romare is awesome. He's one of my favorite artists. How did you know? How could you afford -" she stopped, she almost forget about the expensive paintings, statues, luxury furniture that furnished the multi-million dollar ranch.

"Stephen told me you were a fan and been to one of his exhibitions. So, I asked Gabriel to do a little research on my behalf. Just by chance, she found out there was an auction of his works at Christie's in New York, last weekend."

"The same weekend as your interview," she remarked, with a nervy smile.

"Happy coincidence. There were a few on offer, but this one caught my eye. It's called -"

"Morning Guitar, " she interrupted, knowingly.

Fitz quirked his eyebrows at how informed she was. "I'm impressed."

Camille nodded approvingly at the piece. "So am I." And they both chuckled.

Camille's head was dizzy. She was blissfully happy. She gracefully sprung to her feet and flung her arms around Fitz. He returned her affectionate embrace, swaying her in his arms.

"I can't believe it! I own a Bearden original. Thank you. This is one of the nicest things anyone's ever brought for me – besides Blue." She gazed up, with twinkling eyes that doted on Fitz. "Do you know that Romare loved cats too?"

"No, I didn't. Seems like you both have lots in common," he chortled. His heart was somersaulting around in his chest. He was thrilled at how much pleasure her new room and his gift had brought.

Camille embraced him even closer and pressed her cheek against his solid torso. "Thank you, doesn't seem enough."

Fitz cupped the back of her head planted a big kiss there. "It's more than enough. Bringing a smile to your face... there's no better feeling."

In unison, they broke apart. Again, Camille sat in front of the picture and stared, completely mesmerized. She felt like Harry Potter gazing into the Mirror of Erised.

Fitz sat next Camille. "I don't possess an artistic side like you. Don't get me wrong, I love the paintings I've chosen for our home, but a few, if I'm honest, they were purchased as investments. I own works by Picasso, Lucian Freud and Grant Wood, which I loan out to museums."

"You loan out stuff? That's crazy. Please let me keep this for a while," she anxiously pleaded.

Fitz laughed, heartedly. 'It's yours to do with as you wish."

"Good... Sometimes I wonder between you and Mom where I got my artistic side. No one on Mom's side of the family is into art."

"You know, you never did get around to telling me why you started drawing."

Camille breathing became labored. She sank her teeth into her lower lip and chewed, and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. Swallowing hard, she didn't know how to respond to his innocent question. The same question she managed to avoid answering at the hospital.

"Mmm," he delved. "What made you decide you wanted to be the next Frida Kahlo?"

Camille glanced at Fitz with a queasy smile. She returned to looking at the picture and her eyes became misty as past troubling memories caught up with her.

Fitz's forehead creased at the vast change in her mood. "Listen, if it's something that's personal to you, you don't have to tell me."

She gently rocked back and forth. Her love of art was connected to the lowest point in her life, when her mom was mourning the lost of him behind closed doors leaving Camille alone and frightened. Olivia's rejected had left Camille deeply saddened and protective of her mother and she grew to despise the man sitting next to her for her mom's breakdown.

"I guess... I started drawing... to stop feeling lonely," she replied listlessly.

Fitz was taken aback. He was mystified by her answer. What did she mean to stop feeling lonely? Gazing at her, he saw hurt etched across her face. Her previous joyful expression had given way to a torubled young girl in pain. Clearly, she'd found a release in art to help overcome that suffering. He hoped Camille would expand, but instinctively knew it would be wrong to press her on the subject.

"Thinking about it, it's not strictly true, that no one in the family is creative. My grandpop was good with his hands," stated Fitz brightly, as he tried to lift the mood.

Camille lowered her chin and looked interestedly at him. "Your dad's dad?"

"Yep, he worked the docks, but in his spare time he fancied himself as a bit of a furniture maker. He made storage boxes, chairs and tables. In fact, there's a coffee table you may've seen yesterday, on your way to the main dining room."

"I saw it. It's beautiful," she said, smiling in admiration.

"There's a mahogany storage box in the tennis shed where we keep the rackets and balls. He made that too."

"Awesome. Anything else?"

"His favorites, a pair of rocking chairs for him and your great grandmother Peggy. They're in the conservatory."

Fitz leaned in and brushed his shoulder against hers. "Your great grandfather's genes live on in you."

Camille chuckled. It did please her to know she had some point of reference.

Throwing off her melancholy, she leapt to her feet. Hands on hip she scanned the room. "I think I want to paint the walls lavender. Would that be alright?"

Fitz followed her lead. Standing up, he spread his arms. "Anything you want is fine by me."

"When can we start decorating?"

"Whenever you like. Gabriel's pulled together list of interior designers that specialize in teenage bedrooms we can meet with. Or it could be our special project… something we can do together?"

Camille nodded enthusiastically and locked eyes with him. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Is lavender the color of your bedroom at your mom's?"

"No, everything in our house is white, cream or beige. Mom isn't very imaginative and likes the clean, pristine look. I want something brighter. Do I get to buy a bed or do I have to bring my furniture and other stuff from home. I don't mind," she added quickly.

"No, we'll buy everything you need: new bed, dresser, study desk, chairs, couch -"

"A couch?" she repeated, tentatively. "Um, would it be okay, um, if instead of buying a couch, we get a sofa bed? For Jess when she comes to stay?"

"Sure."

"Do you think we'll have my room ready before she gets here?"

They both studied the blank canvass before them. Fitz draped his arm around Camille's shoulders. "We'll have our work cut, but I'm confident it's doable."

***End of Flashback***

The sun beating down on her arms, and birds chirping overhead, jolted Camille back to real time. She hugged herself in a protective manner. She shivered from her still damp hair and swimming costume. Time to change out of her bathing suit and get on dry clothes. Downcast and worn-out, she braced herself as she prepared to walk back into the minefield.

---

After watching Mellie retire upstairs, Gerry returned to the pool area and had a brief chat with Stephen about Camille whereabouts and the forthcoming hospital visit.

He departed and re-entered the house. He took the staircase from the breakfast kitchen that lead to downstairs. Walking down the wide brightly lit corridor, he heard footsteps and was soon face-to-face with Fitz.

"Dad, I was on my way to look for you guys. Where's Teddy, how's he doing?"

"He's calmed down. Teena's with him in the playroom, they're playing with his LEGO construction set. He says he's building a wall, to 'Keep Mommy out'. Where's your sister?"

Gerry instantly became sheepish. "She ran off."

Fitz's eyebrows arched and fell in confusion. "What do you mean, she ran off?"

Gerry didn't speak. He didn't know how to answer.

Fitz sharply exhaled. "Son, you wanna fill me in?"

The teenager shrugged his wirier shoulders in a noncommittal manner.

"Gerry I haven't got all day. I'm already running late," snapped Fitz, irritably.

Taking a deep breath, Gerry reluctantly updated his father. "After you left, there was a misunderstanding between her and Mom, but everything's fine now."

"Go on."

"Camille came up with this crazy notion," he sighed. "She accused Mom of spying on Aunt Liv's old boyfriend."

"What would make her think that?"

"Mom mentioned this Jake guy was a dentist. Camille went into one about how she didn't tell anyone about his job and it escalated from there, with her calling Mom a spy, and Mom threatening to leave."

Fitz's mouth fell open, ready to express his concerns, but Gerry got in first, waving his hands. "Before you lose it too, Camille admitted she made a mistake, and said sorry. So any crisis has been averted." He decided against mentioning their recent squabble.

Fitz heavily sighed with relief. He was juggling so many balls this morning, and if possible, he wanted to avoid another Mellie problem. "Do you know where she went?"

"She's sitting on the steps outside the front door."

"Thanks, I'll see you later," replied Fitz with exasperation.

---

Fitz's heart clenched when he saw Camille's tiny frame on the steps. She didn't respond to his arrival. Without seeing her face, he knew from her bowed head and hunched over shoulders things were bad.

"Hello, Gerry said you were out here."

Camille mumbled something incoherently, as Fitz slide down next to her. He rested his hands on his knees and laced his fingers together.

"How's Teddy?" she asked, in a low voice.

"I managed to calm him down… he's in the basement playroom with Teena; and Gerry's with him too."

She turned her head to the side and away from Fitz at the mention of Gerry's name.

"I heard about your quarrel."

She broke into a weary sigh. "Which one? Sorry, I-I didn't mean to... I'm sorry about Mrs. Grant."

Fitz's brow knotted in confusion. But did a quick shake of the head and carried on. "Don't apologize. Mellie has a tendency to bring out the worst in people. I understand why you'd lose your temper and lashed out… We've all been there… upset... and said things we don't mean. Between you and me, I think she over reacted about Teddy."

Flooding through Camille was a sense of relief that he hadn't come to tell her off for speaking out of turn.

Fitz's soft blue eyes gazed upon Camille. He took her hand and his thumb caressed it.

"You possess a beautiful spirit that touches everyone you meet. You're kind, thoughtful, and fun to be around. That's what I see and the boys do too. I've said this before and it's worth repeating, Mellie can't relate or understand those qualities because she thinks they're weaknesses instead of strengths. If there's one piece of advice I'd like to offer you, it's this, never stop being you, Camille, no matter what. You have a special gift."

Slightly shifting, Camille rested her head against him. She took warm comfort from his words.

Fitz surreptitiously glanced at his waiting vehicle before giving Camille his full attention. "Abby and Harrison are at the hospital. If you want, I'm happy to stay with you."

Ever aware, Camille shook her head. "I'm okay, you go. Mom is waiting for you."

"I hate seeing you upset."

Camille sniffed loudly and cleared her throat. She gave him a plucky smile. "I'm good. Honest."

"Are you sure? It's not a problem."

"Mom needs you more than I do. You go."

"Okay, you win. Why don't you go and hang out with the boys? Teddy could do with seeing another friendly face."

Together, they stood up and walked to his awaiting vehicle. She stopped and stood watching as the driver held the door open for him. Just before climbing in Fitz hesitated and rested his hand on the car roof.

"Out of interest, what made you think Mellie's been meddling in Jake's affairs?"

Blushing from head to toe, Camille shook her head. "It's nothing, I'm sorry, I got it wrong," she apologized.

Tapping the roof of the car, Fitz nodded thoughtfully. He looked seriously at her. "Camille, your well-being and happiness is paramount to me. Mellie's holding on by a thread. It won't matter about Karen coming back on Saturday or not. She's on her final warning. She upsets you again. She's gone," he vowed.

Camille smiled. "Have a safe journey. I'll see ya soon."

Fitz blew her a kiss and climbed into the car.

---

Entering the house, Camille headed straight upstairs. Outside her bedroom door Camille heard her cell ringing. She beamed. She assumed it was him calling to make sure she was okay.

She ran in and belly-flopped onto her bed. She grabbed the flashing cell from the nightstand.

No, she thought, rolling her eyes, not now. Caller ID revealed it was Jake. She hit the silence button.

Camille didn't mean to behave so selfishly but she said all she had to say to Jake.

She found herself in an odd position. The information Mrs. Grant revealed about Jake enraged her, but not enough to warrant engaging in a conversation with him, especially as she wasn't confident she hadn't let it slip about his profession. Camille also worried he might want to rethink his trip to LA. Reflecting on their conversation she remembered – at times – he sounded bitter and unfriendly; and she didn't want to give him any ammunition or reason to think, flying out to LA was a viable option.

In her current predicament, Jake would be the perfect ally, but she felt self-conscious about dragging him into her argument with Mrs. Grant and giving him an insight into her family troubles. Best to keep family feuds private. She'd tough things out. Maybe his was right. Perhaps hanging out with Gerry and Teddy would be just the ticket. Camille jumped when the cell rang again. Jake. He wasn't giving up. Still feeling frazzled, she didn't need the extra hassle and switched off her cell and stuffed it under a pillow.

---

After his conversation with Gerry, Stephen went to look for Camille.

After searching the immediate area, he returned to the house and a staff member informed she was in her room, so went to coax her out.

By the time Stephen arrived, Camille had showered, changed and prepared to go hang out with the boys.

"Hey, Uncle, come in."

"Thanks..." he said, stepping into the room and closing the door. "I saw Gerry, a while back, he's with Teddy, down in the basement. I've not been to that part of the house yet."

"Is Lady Macbeth with them?" she asked.

Stephen chuckled and shook his head.

"Thank God," sighed Camille with relief.

"But I've got some bad news."

Camille rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "What now?"

"Gerry's decided to stay behind with Teddy."

"What?" asked Camille in shock. "Why? Let me guess."

"I think Gerry feels bad about Teddy being grounded."

Camille knew that wasn't the whole truth. Exasperated and angry, she flung her arms up in the air. "Great! Fine! We may as well go now."

Camille turned on her heels when Stephen grabbed her arm. "Camille, wait, your dad isn't expected us."

"Doesn't matter. We can sit in the car park, wait in the corridor outside Mom's room, or even go to Starbucks. I don't care, I just wanna get out of here. Please Uncle Stephen," she begged.

"Okay, whatever you wish," he relented. "I'll speak to security. But I would advise you go and say goodbye."

"Why should I even bother?"

"Camille," he chided.

"It's so obvious why Gerry won't come, he's scared of her."

"I think she's put him on a guilt trip."

Camille could feel tears welling up in her eyes. "I told him days ago that she hates me."

"Come here," said Stephen. She fell into his arms and he gave her a consoling hug. We'll get to the bottom of this, he thought to himself.

"I don't belong here," she said tearfully.

Stephen eased up on his hold and looked down at her with stern eyes. "Camille, I don't ever want to hear you talking like that," he rebuked. "Don't let one sad excuse for a human being have a negative affect you."

Camille hugged Stephen. "Sometimes it's hard," she sniffed, and rubbed her nose. "But I'll try."

"That's all I can ask sweetheart."

"I'll pack my bag and meet you outside."

---

Fitz instinctively grabbed the wall as he skidded around the hospital corridor, with Agent Bill in tow. Seeing one of Olivia's regular nurses, he slowed down and smiled. Nurse Taylor stood patiently outside the treatment room, where Olivia had been taken already.

"Panic over!" he declared with a huge exhale. Using his forefinger he pressed the wall hand sanitizer and squirted clear cold liquid into his hands; and rubbed them together. "I'm sorry for the holdup. I take it everyone's inside?"

"We're all set and ready to go... Ms. Whelan's in there."

Upon entering the room the sound of monitors bleeping greeted him.

"Good morning," he said to everyone.

Dr. Ramen, his colleagues and Abby turned to him.

"Good morning, Mr. Grant," greeted Dr. Ramen.

Fitz walked the short distance and stood side by side next to Abby. He gazed at Olivia encased in the twelve foot glass cylinder.

Dr. Ramen was talking to his staff and examining monitors and drips; and they also referred to a computer screen displaying a 3D dimensional image of Olivia's brain patterns.

"Good afternoon, glad you could make it," ribbed Abby.

Fitz puffed out his chest in and narrowed his eyes. "Try dealing with three kids and an insufferable pain in the ass ex-wife," he muttered under his breath, but sounded a lot harshly than intended.

"We're ready when you are," announced the doctor.

Fitz nodded. "May I…?" he asked, indicating to the glass cylinder.

"Be my guest," invited Dr. Ramen. He pressed a device in his hand and stepped back.

There was a gently buzzing noise and the glass lid slid back effortlessly. Immediately, Fitz leaned in and his eyes softened as he smiled tenderly at Olivia.

He dipped his hand inside and tenderly stroked her face with the back of his hand, loving the touch of her smooth skin. Moving downwards, he caress her fingertips and squeezed her hand. He was prevented from greeting his lover in his customary manner. "Hi, Livvie, I'm sorry I'm late."

Dr. Ramen, politely coughed. Fitz removed his hand and retreated. The lid slid back into place.

"Everything is in order my team and I will be in the other room behind the glass panel. We'll be here for the best part of an hour. You may want to make yourselves comfortable," the doctor suggested, glancing between Fitz and Abby.

Fitz nodded in acknowledgment smiled at the doctor and nurses until they left. In an instant his face fell and he closed his eyes and softly breathed to lower his stress levels.

"Busy morning?" enquired Abby, tactfully.

"That's an understatement. I'm sorry I was a bit short with you. Mellie's intent on driving everyone crazy."

Abby grimaced. "It's her special skill," she remarked dryly.

"Don't I know it."

Fitz looked back at Olivia and the anxiety that threatened to consume him miraculously started to melt away.

"The most important thing is you're here now," she told him with a warm smile.

"Mmm… You sticking around?"

Abby shook her head. "I know Liv is happy I'm here. But given the choice, I'm not foolish enough to think she wouldn't prefer some alone time with the man she likes sucking the face off to her best friend. I'll give you two some privacy..." She paused and glimpsed over at the party of five medical team. "... Well as much as feasibly possible."

Fitz smiled, gratefully. Pleased his early caustic response hadn't caused offense. It really was a bonus being on the same wavelength as Abby.

"I'll be in the green room with Harrison... I leave you to it." She looked down at her closest friend. "Hey you, we're all rooting for you Liv… show us what you got. Good luck."

"Thank you."

On the doctor's advice, Fitz collected a chair. He sat down and leaned his upper body forward and pressed his palm to the glass to be as physically close to Olivia as humanly possible.

There was a click followed by an almost undetectable hissing sound and so began the process of administering oxygen into the glass tube.

A hyper-observant Fitz ensured his piercing blue eyes were glued to Olivia's prostrate self. He dared not look away. He didn't want to risk missing out on witnessing even the tiniest indication she was fighting back. An eye flicker, a mouth twitch or sound, he had to see it and report back to Camille.

Fitz: "Hi, Livvie, it's me again. You've been moved to a different room today and it's for a very good reason. Let me explain what's about to happen, okay, Livvie…"

Olivia: What? Where? Livvie? Who's calling me Livvie? I'm Olivia. I am Olivia Pope. What's going on? I can't see anything? I feel strange. I'm myself but not quite me. Where am I? I feel light. Lifeless. Floating in this oddly quiet black space. I am in heaven or hell? I can't tell… But I'm floating in space... in limbo. Is this some kind of purgatory? Mmm… The powers that be haven't quite worked out where to place me. Ugh! Why do I feel so cold? Well... I'll take that as a good sign that at least I'm not in hell.

Fitz: Do you remember your accident at the airport when you slipped on the stairs and hurt your head? You've been sleeping at the hospital since it happened. Livvie, that noise you can hear is the doctors supplying your brain with extra oxygen. I must warn you, as well as the noise, you might feel cold for a while, but it's nothing to worry about... you are safe... I've got the finest medical team talking care of you..."

Olivia: Brrr! Yes, that's really cold. I feel like someone has dumped me butt naked in the middle of Alaska… Alright… it's not too bad... I'm getting used to the sensation.

Fitz: Dr. Ramen is one of the doctors taking excellent care of you, and he advised me this will go on for an hour. Don't worry, there's nothing to fear, everything that you're hearing and feeling is to help you wake up. Do you understand?"

Olivia: If I could just open my eyes, take a peak, it might help. It's a simple task: open your eyes, Olivia. Damn! C'mon girl, try again.

Fitz: "Olivia honey, please open your eyes, if you can hear me… Please, baby, show me that strong woman I fell in love with… please wake up."

Olivia: Aaah… that voice. Nothing compares to that rich baritone sound. It's unique, full of warmth and deliciously pacifying. I would know that deep velvety voice anywhere - even in this unfamiliar void. Fitzgerald Grant III… Fitzgerald… Fitz… my Fitz. Blessed with a voice from the gods. I remember you Fitz. How could I ever forget you?

Fitz: "… Can try for me? There's nothing to be worried about, I'm right here and I'm going to be here for the duration. I won't leave your side… I will never leave you side again, and you will never leave me. You and I are inseparable. You thought the worst thing you could do to me was hide our daughter from me, but that still couldn't break me… or us. We're in this together, sweet baby."

Olivia: Sweet Baby... Yes, I am, your sweet baby. We have a baby too… sweet Camille. Wait. Wait. Wait. Oh my God! Where's Camille, Fitz? Is she safe? Do you know where our daughter is? Oh My God. Think, Olivia, think! I have to stay calm down. I remember the last time I saw Cam; we were waving each other goodbye. I'm here, you're here; but no Camille. Is she back home? Fitz, you once promised me, that you would take care of our little girl. Is she safe?

Fitz: "It's just me, here. Abby and Harrison aren't too far away, but wanted to give us some alone time. There's nothing better we love than our alone time, eh Livvie? Later on, this afternoon, Camille will be here with Gerry and Teddy. I left them behind, at home... and she's still settling in. All in all, it's gone better than I could've imagined. This morning Camille and Teddy made me breakfast-in-bed and wait for it, she's seen her spanking brand new bedroom. She loves it. We've both agreed to decorate it together, so I'm really looking forward to that. It's a blessing having her in my life. She met Cyrus the other day, and he commented on how much she looks like you. In fact that's the first thing anyone says when they meet her, how beautiful she is and how much she reminds them of you. Even I find myself having to doing a double take when she says or does something Olivia Pope-esque. I love it. I love her. Having her with me at last is indescribable. I feel like a kid who's been given the keys to Disneyland. Oh, did I forget to mention your family's flying in at the weekend and Karen too. She flies home from Bangkok on Saturday. Our dream's about to come true… all of our children living happily together, under one roof. Our summer plan has been thrown into disarray but Camille's here with me… and that was kind of the plan… it just got remixed."

Olivia: I know we had a plan: I fly to California first to make sure everything is in order. Then fly back to New York and bring Camille back to California to meet you. Oh Fitz, does she know about us now? Did you tell her everything? Will she ever forgive me? Did you explain it to her? Does she know that I didn't have a choice? It wasn't the perfect scenario but the miracle we created that fateful night, I couldn't destroy. It was selfish, I know. You were born to be President. They said you were meant to be great. I had no right to you or Camille. She deserved a family; she deserved to be loved and happy. However allowances had to be made. I had to keep her out of sight. Dear God, she deserved to be more than a dirty little secret. Our Camille. I'm sorry Fitz. I wish you could hear me say, I'm sorry.

Fitz: "I want you to concentrate on getting better. Don't worry about Camille, I promise you, she's doing fine. The world knows she's my daughter and I couldn't be happier or prouder. Sure, there were a few hairy moments, one of the biggest being Mellie, but we survived, because it's what we do… Livvie, we're at the cusp of having our happy ever after, so you can't give up. You're the formidable Olivia Pope. The word 'no' is not part of your makeup. You've been presented with your biggest challenge, so I want you to dig deep and fight. Fight for you, for me, and most importantly, for our little girl. After all we've put Camille through, she deserves both of us in her life, together, as a real family. I love you, Olivia Carolyn Pope. I will always love you."

Olivia: Fitz please, don't let me go. I'm trying. Please don't give up. Stay with me, Fitz. I love you.

Fitz: "We're all here waiting for you: Stephen, your Gladiators, the children, so don't you bail on me. Do you hear me the soon-to-be Mrs. Grant? Stay with me, Livvie. Come home to me. I love you."

---

Fitz emerged from the room buoyant and grinning from ear to ear.

Arriving at the communal lounge, he saw only Harrison, sat in one of the armchairs chairs, with his head buried in the LA Times and writing every now and then.

"How is the Grant Family Saga fairing?" Fitz asked, as a wicked smile crossed his lips.

Harrison looked up and nodded. "Hey, how ya doin'? You only made page three today. There's a rumor Mellie has allegedly set her sights on becoming the new State Governor of Virginia."

Casting his mind back to his conversation with the current Commander-in-Chief, he retorted with a chuckle. "Really? She hasn't mentioned anything to me? But I'll take that over me allegedly fathering half the children born out of wedlock in DC."

"You look pleased with yourself. How'd it go? Did Olivia respond in anyway?"

"Not in any noticeable way, no," replied Fitz chirpily. He moved to sit down on the three-seater couch.

Harrison rested his paper on his and placed his Roadster rollerball pen in his jacket pocket, hanging on the back of his chair. He observed Fitz curiously. "So what's with the cheesy smile?"

Jadedly, but happy, Fitz threw himself down in the couch and ran his hands through his thick brown locks. He took a few seconds in which he contemplated whether or not to reveal his time with Olivia. Taking a deep breath, he smiled self-consciously at Harrison. "You're gonna think this is crazy."

Harrison chucked down the paper. "Try me."

"I did my usual talking to Livvie, explaining what was going on with Dr. Ramen, while I was by her side. During our conversation, for the first time, I really felt a connection, I felt she heard me, and the more I spoke, the more confident I became she could hear me... she was with me. I know I sound like a nut job."

Firmly shaking his head, Harrison chucked the newspaper on the coffee table. He looked Fitz, dead in the eye. "You sound like a man very in tune with his woman."

Fitz took a relaxing exhaled. "Something inside told me… she's listening, she can hear you."

"Going with your instincts is no bad thing. You have no reason to doubt yourself. We know Liv's a fighter."

"They're moving her back into her room. Where's Abby?"

"She took a call from David, and then went to grab some fresh air."

"How's David coping with you both still out of town?"

Harrison wavered his flat hand from side to side. "On the one hand he knows we have to be here for Liv and on the other he's running business. Fortunately, Abby was able to guilt-trip him into letting us stay for a least another week."

"How things between him and Abby? Liv told me he recently got engaged to his former intern."

"Yeah, Allissa. Abby wasn't exactly singing from the rooftop when they announced their engagement, but she's being an adult about it."

Fitz quirked his eyebrows in disbelief.

Harrison chuckled "Okay, she's making a Chelsea Handler-type comments… Speaking of old flames, is a visit from Jake Ballard on the cards?"

Looking as pleased as punch, Fitz took immense pleasure in telling the other man. "Mr. Ballard won't be flying out anytime soon."

"Oh, care to expand?"

"Camille told me Ballard's girlfriend is pregnant and suffering with morning sickness, so everyone though it was best he stayed at home and looked after her. And I agree, it's the best place for him… far away," said Fitz, with a triumphant glint sparkling in his azure eyes.

Harrison erupted into laughter. "After how you reacted when you thought we planned on kidnapping Cam... I'm surprised you didn't rip off your shirt and start bear-beating your chest at the thought of Jake flying in."

"Okay, I admit, I can get a little over protective," he replied, in mock defense.

"A little? You're practically Neanderthal. How's everything on the home front? That incident with Gerry?"

"Yeah, it's good, resolved, thanks to you guys."

Harrison took his praise on the chin. "Piece a cake. Damn, I just had a thought, you were a client, I might bill you, just so I can prove to my boss I'm out here working."

Both men laughed.

"And Cam?" asked Harrison.

"She's... good."

Fitz's hesitation drew a concerned look from Harrison. He searched his face, but Fitz's blank expression gave nothing away, so he dropped it.

Harrison grabbed his jacket from behind the chair. "I'm going to stretch my legs and grab a coffee, can I get you anything?" he asked, slipping his arm through one sleeve.

Shaking his head, Fitz picked up the discarded paper. "No, thanks I'm good." He discovered Harrison had started the cryptic crossword. "You mind if I finish what you couldn't?"

Harrison arched his eyebrows and scoffed. "Get you with the jokes."

Patting himself down, Fitz asked. "Can I borrow your pen?"

Harrison reached inside his breast pocket and purposefully threw a poor throw that left Fitz grunting as he lurched to his right, and grasped at thin air. He failed to catch the misdirected pen, instead, it clatter as it crash-landed to the floor by his feet.

"At least LeBron James can sleep easy," mocked Harrison, with a twisted smile.

Fitz rolled his eyes at Harrison, while at the same time bending over. His touched the cold hard floor as he observed him leave and acknowledge Bill.

His fingers briefly made contact with the pen, but he didn't get a firm grip and his left foot accidentally kicked out and sent the pen rolling away, and it disappeared under the couch.

Fitz sighed, irritably. Bending even further, he peered between his legs and saw the pen and what appeared to be a small padded card. He collected both items and discovered the card was an envelope addressed to Olivia.

Slightly bemused Fitz, rolled back in his seat and tore open the envelope, he pulled out a small white card decorated with a single flower motif in the top right hand corner. He read:

To Liv,

I'm thinking of you and Camille.

Get Well Soon,

Love,

Jake.

Fitz's eyes narrowed. He re-read the note. He looked up and into the distance as his brain mulled over what he knew about Jake's flowers, and Camille's argument with Mellie. The truth was fitting together like a puzzle. A series of mini explosions when off in his head up as he felt the dawning of his rage. Shooting up like a rocket out of his seat, he pushed the card in his pocket, and raced out of the room.

Bill straightened up, at the sight of his grim-faced boss. "Sir?"

"We're leaving."

---

Arriving at Olivia's private wing Camille and Stephen were met by a couple of worried-looking gladiators outside Olivia's room.

Stephen spoke to Abby. "Hello, is everything okay?"

Fine. Great." Abby was half listening. She was focused on Tom and Douglas, a second later, she glanced between Camille and Stephen. "Is it just you guys?"

"Uh-huh, the boys were coming, but there was a change of plan," Stephen quietly explained.

Abby frowned and squinted her eyes at him. "I was talking about Grant."

"Now, I'm confused," admitted Stephen.

"He left a message with one of the nurses to say he had to leave to attend a family emergency. You haven't spoken to him?"

Camille and Stephen exchanged mutually baffling stares. "No."

"Is my Mom okay?" asked Camille, making her way to Olivia's room.

Abby rested a protective hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "She's first class. Honest to God. Back in her room and waiting for her favorite person," said Abby.

Dread filled Camille's mind, as she thought back to her altercation with Mrs. Grant. "Then why did he leave? He's supposed to be here," she fretted. It must be serious family business to tear him away from her mother's bedside.

Harrison turned to face Tom. "Do you know anything about this?"

"No, it's the first I've -" Tom was interrupted by heavy clunking footsteps. Approaching the group were two burly hospital security guards.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wright, I'll go and see what these guys want."

Tom and Douglas greeted the men and they talked and walked back in the direction of the elevator.

Nodding his head in the direction of security, Harrison asked. "Do you think they know something?"

"I don't know... I've had a miss call from Fitz, must be the reception in here," mumbled Stephen, with his head bent. He pressed a button to activate the missing caller's number. The phone rang. "Hello Fitz, its Stephen, where are you?"

"Stephen, I've been trying to get hold of you. Are you with Camille? I've been calling her number, but it's going straight to voicemail."

"Cam, where's your phone?"

Haplessly, she shrugged her shoulders. "I left it at home."

"She left it behind. Do you want to speak to her?"

"Thanks."

"Hello?" said Camille.

"Camille, it's Dad, I'm sorry, but I've had to return home."

"Why? You're supposed to be here waiting for me!" she cried agitatedly.

Fitz closed his eyes and took a second. Not quite sure how to explain.

Camille huffed impatiently. "Hello, are you still there? Talk to me."

Fitz awkwardly coughed and cleared his throat. "I'm still here."

"Is something wrong? Is it because of what I said to Mrs. Grant? Is she leaving with Gerry and Teddy?"

"As far as I'm aware the boys are at home, and not going anywhere. Please trust me on this. Stay where you are, and I'll be back as soon as I can. Okay?"

"No, it's not okay," she replied petulantly.

"Camille, listen to me. You have not done nothing wrong. It's my problem that I need to resolve. Stay with your mom and the others until I get back."

Silence.

"Camille? Camille?" Fitz kept repeating.

Too angry and upset by his disappearing act, Camille ignored him and handed the phone back to her uncle.

Bowing his head Stephen walked away and began speaking in a low voice. "Fitz, it's me again… yes... She's worried…"

Camille started biting her nails as her paranoia kicked in. She didn't believe him leaving wasn't connected to her and this morning's event. Proof being, he'd left her mom. He would never consider such a move unless something bad had occurred like his ex-wife running off with their kids.

"Cam… do you wanna tell us what's going on?" asked Abby.

"This morning I had a bust-up with Mrs. Grant and she threatened leave the ranch with Gerry and Teddy. I think that's why he's left; he went to stop her. He said it's nothing to do with that and I should stay here with you guys, but I know it's because of me."

"Shit," responded Harrison, automatically. Camille looked dejectedly up at him. Abby glared at him.

'Sorry' he mouthed.

Abby stroked Camille's hair. "Cutie pie, if your dad said the two events are not connected, then they're not connected."

Harrison's eyes narrowed and he looked at Abby like she'd grown two heads. She was actually supporting Grant's decision with no contradiction? Now he had no reason to doubt Fitz was conversing with Olivia.

"Let's go and see your mom," suggested Abby.

Camille nodded. "Okay, and then I'm going home."

"Bearing in mind what your father said, we should wait here until he gets back," asserted Abby.

Camille was too caught up in her emotional turmoil to agree. She was regretting her volatile outburst. Making amends and apologizing was her main priority.

"No," she cried, fearfully, while repeatedly shaking her head. "You don't understand Abby, I accused Mrs. Grant of being jealous and… and I said she'd been spying on Jake. Gerry and I got in a fight about it and he changed his mind about coming -"

Everyone was distracted from Camille's angst-ridden dialogue by the elevator dinging and the doors whirling open.

"... It's my fault. I've messed up everything. I've gotta go back and make everything right, so she doesn't take Gerry and Teddy away. Me and my big -"

"Camille, you have a visitor," interrupted Stephen.

"I, what?" Camille froze and stopped her ceaseless rambling.

Stephen, Abby and Harrison were looking over her head, with incredulous expressions.

Abby grabbed Camille's shoulders and twirled her around.

Faced with what they were staring at, Camille's eyes sprung back and look set to pop out of their sockets. She gasped out loud and adopted the same copycat look as the trio. Her heart clenched as her breathing became shallow, followed by her knees buckling. She staggered back and was caught by Abby. It felt as though she was losing her sense of reality as she zoned in on the surreal vision of a young, tanned and slender blonde woman, flanked by Tom and Douglas, coming her way.

No! screamed the voice inside her head. This wasn't happening. Not on today of all days. But it was indeed the day. It had come four days too soon for Camille. She had wanted time to prepare herself. But that had gone out the window. The time was now.

Karen took big bold strides… closing in on Camille… and spread her arms out wide. The gesture brought a flicker of hesitation from Camille, which Karen read.

Karen was equally as nervous Camille, but being the older sister, she knew she had to take the initiative. She broadened her reach to show she was opening her heart to her spooked-out sister.

Suddenly, they were face-to-face with each other. Karen smiled and very slowly she wrapped her arms around Camille's tense shoulders and pressed her arms together, pulling Camille in closer for a intimate hug to help ease her fears.

"Hello Camille, it's lovely to meet you," whispered Karen.

Standing, stiff as a board, Camille thought, this is weird.

Yesterday afternoon, when Mrs. Grant attempted to embrace she instinctively felt alarmed and backed away. This felt different. She felt a genuine warmth from Karen. And that warmth Karen demonstrated to Camille was the affection she didn't think possible, after their tricky phone call. She knew Karen was unaware about what had transpired earlier. Regardless, Camille was overwhelmed by her kindness and warmth. Tentatively, her arms crept up and then in the blink of an eye, she was clinging to Karen like a life jacket. She felt safe enough to close her eyes and vulnerable enough to cry.

Karen rocked Camille in her arms, gently swaying to and fro. Lifting her head, she met the friendly stares from the Gladiators, keenly watching the two sisters saying 'hello' for the first time. They shared polite nods before Karen dropped her gaze to Camille.

"I didn't know meeting me for the first time would upset you so much," she chuckled.

Loosening her wrestler's hold, Camille sniffed and locked eyes with Karen. "It's not you, it's him… it's Dad... He left me."

---

The driver didn't get the chance to change gear and put the car into 'park', when Fitz wrenched the passenger door open. Climbing out he slammed the door so hard he could've decapitated a limb.

Caught up in his frenzy, Fitz didn't notice his eldest son standing there waiting for him. Gerry heard from one of the staff his father was back and immediately sought him out.

Noting his father's stone-cold expression, he quaked. He wanted to explain why he'd decided not to accompany Camille and Stephen.

"Hey, Dad."

Dashing to the house, Fitz did a double take. "Gerry."

"Look, Dad if this is about me not coming to the hospital, I can -"

"It isn't," Fitz quickly assured him in a grave voice, as he raced passed Gerry and up the veranda steps.

"Is everything okay?"

Fitz breathed thickly and briefly closed his eyes. He turned and facing Gerry and managed a halfhearted smile. "Fine. Where's your brother?"

"Taking a nap."

"Where's your mother?"

"I think she's upstairs in her room, why?"

"Teddy's not with her?"

"No. Dad, what's with all the questions?" asked a perplexed Gerry.

"I need to speak to your mother - in private. Make sure neither of us is disturbed."

"Dad," Gerry called out.

His plea fell on deaf ears.

---

Fitz didn't bother knocking. He barged straight into the guest room and there was Mellie and Maya. Fitz's ice-blue eyes zoomed in on Mellie, busy holding-up and inspecting expensive outfits that had been packed in a Ralph Lauren suitcase that lay open on the bed.

They both turned and faced a furious-looking Fitz.

"Leave us," he instructed Maya, in a low hissing voice, while staring murderously at Mellie.

Maya visibly winced from the sternest command from her normally friendly and mild mannered boss. She scurried away, and was out the door in seconds.

Fitz came storming towards his former wife like an advancing avalanche.

Mellie rolled her eyes. She wasn't overly bothered by his rage. She was used to Fitz's explosive outbursts and assumed his bad mood concerned Teddy. He probably wanted to challenge her and whine about Teddy missing out on the hospital visit and her zero policy stance when it came to disciplining the children; or maybe it concerned Olivia's rude brat. Whatever.

"I'm surprised you're back already. Gerry said he told you about Camille's appalling behavior after you went to find Teddy. Irrespective of Olivia's condition, that doesn't give her daughter carte blanche to be impertinent. Gerry and I talked, we're seriously considering leaving, so if this a new tactic of yours, bullying me into staying -"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" roared Fitz.

Instantly, Mellie dropped the cashmere sweater she'd been admiring, and stumbled as though she'd slipped on an icy patch.

Fitz got right up in her face. His granite grey eyes bore into her. They were blood curdling scary, and lead to a less blasé attitude from Mellie.

She gulped nervously. He's steaming hot mad, she thought. The maddest she could remember seeing him. Something was terribly wrong.

Panic set in. Mellie's pupils dilated and became alive and wide, with terror. A pulsating vein throbbed at her temple, and triggered a sharp pain behind her left eye that twitched, unnaturally.

Without blinking, Fitz pulled out Jake's card, and grabbing her wrist, he smacked the note into the palm of her hand.

Petrified, Mellie's eyes flitted downwards. In her confused and frightened state, she failed to make out the card. It was a blur.

"Camille was right," he said between gritted teeth. "Jake didn't send those flowers. You did."

Mellie tensed up. "What are you talking about?" she asked in a cracked voice.

"Read it."

The harshness in Fitz's voice shocked Mellie into obedience. Reading the brief note, Mellie's mouth slumped open and her face became stripped of all living color; she'd turned a deathly shade of grey. She attempted speech. Her mouth was moving, as she tried to concoct a credible reply, but it felt like her throat had been welded together. She couldn't raise a miniscule peep. She was acutely aware that the longer she remained silence the worse it would be. Eyes glued to the card, she fixated on the words, not knowing where else to look. She certainly didn't have the guts to look Fitz in the eye, but felt the blazing heat of his hatred raining down.

Fitz remained eerily silent, waiting patiently, deliberately giving her enough rope to hang herself.

The torturous quiet worked to Mellie's detriment. Her stomach knotted, as nausea took hold and she almost gagged.

She offered no contradiction to Fitz's claim.

"... I…" she finally managed to croak out, barely above a whisper.

"What I'd like to do to you would land me in jail - on death row."

Mellie's crushed the card between her trembling fingers, to steady her severe nerves. She was desperately raking her brain to engineer a response. She cringed, thinking back to her conniving scheme, with her campaign manager. Had Richard stabbed her in the back? No, not with the smell of DC power wafting through his nostrils. He wouldn't dare… would he?

"That's been your pathetic plan all alone hasn't it? To destroy my fragile relationship with Camille, and create enough bad blood, so you coerce the boys into leaving with you."

The unsteady breaths and beads of perspiration bubbling up on Mellie's forehead, signified she was rapidly losing her cool, and ultimately her guilt. She realized she was being brought to her knees by her short-sighted deviousness and a quick-thinking twelve year old.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," she retorted dismissively, in the vein hope her strenuous denial would at least sound authentic.

However Mellie's tetchy body language, and constantly blinking blue eyes were a dead giveaway.

"Don't Mellie. Seriously, don't," his hissed angrily. Snatching her hand, he wrenched the card from her and shoved the incriminating evidence in her face. "Is this the level of your maturity? I warned you: don't come here and start your tricks. I'm not wasting any more time trying to convince you to behave like a grown-up. I'm pleased you were smart enough to give yourself a head start with your packing, because you, and you alone are leaving."

Terrified and flustered, she stammered. "L-l-look, the card isn't signed, proof -"

"Jake told Camille he brought the flowers online, so how the hell did he sign it? If that's even his signature."

"Are you suggesting I forged his handwriting?"

Fitz scoffed. "We both know people willing to get their hands dirty for a fee or the greater good… I bet if I were to ask Huck to conduct an investigation into your recent activities, we'd found how exactly who the instigator was behind this devilish plan."

Mellie reached out to Fitz and he rebuffed her by retreating with a look of revulsion on his face. "Fitzgerald, please, you have to understand, when the news broke about you, Olivia and Camille, I felt humiliated and hurt."

A cynical laugh exploded from Fitz. Mellie stepped to him again. For the second time, he backed away.

"It-it was Richard's idea, he thought -"

"A-ha, there she is, the real Mellie," he interrupted. "Trying to save your ass by throwing the one person who actually believes in you under a bus." he sneered, as he clenched and unclenched his fists, to keep from doing the one thing he swore he'd never do to a woman. "God, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you probably had a hand in pushing Olivia down that flight of stairs."

Horrified, she gasped. "What a disgusting thing to say, I'm many things but murder is not my style."

"But you're not denying you have a vendetta against Camille?"

She snapped her mouth shut and squirmed with embarrassment. Hearing out loud she was involved in a feud with a kid made her look and feel like the worse kind of abuser.

Fitz held up Jake's message. "I found this note at the hospital, meaning Jake's flowers were sent to the hospital; meaning you can't worm your way out of this one."

"What do I tell the boys?" cracked Mellie's shame-filled voice.

"Fortunately for you, you've convinced the boys your mother's under the weather. You can tell them she's still feeling unwell and you're going back to take care of her. Quite frankly, I don't give damn what you say, as long as you don't spew anymore venom about their sister before you hit the road."

Mellie felt demoralized by his punishment, but his rejection left her shattered. She'd been stung by it over the years, but this time, there was a finality that even after their divorce she never felt until this moment. She'd played some dirty tricks in her time, but trying to destroy his relationship with his children was something he would never forgive. From now on, she would know Fitz from a distance. He would see to that. This time she'd lost him forever. Her only choice was to revert to type and mask her pain.

Taking several deep breaths, she stared up at Fitz with shark dead eyes. "Gerry's party. Will my family and I be refused entrance to my eldest son's celebrations?" she demanded to know in a brutally cold manner.

Fitz smirked. "The tearful performance dispense with, we can get back Maleficent Mellie. I would never ban you from any milestone event in our children's lives. I'll speak to Gerry. We can organize the celebration party at a mutually convenient location."

"You brought me to this. My actions are the result of years of having to suffer your cruelty and rejection. I willing took a backseat and stood in the shadows, while you took centre stage to make your dream a reality. I -"

Fitz interrupted, with loud and obnoxious snoring. "Is this leading up to your great sacrifice speech?"

"Yes!" she screamed at him. "I sacrificed myself to get you to the White House. I abandoned my career to be the perfect wife and give you the children you craved, so you ticked all the right boxes; and appeared like a man that could lead nation. And what thanks did I ever get? All you've ever done is snap and snarl at me every damn step of the way; and I took it. God, even I found out about your affair with Olivia and your lovechild, I never left your side. I took it on the chin, and I forgave you. I forgave you for falling in love with another woman and having a child, but I'm the bad guy. I've had to endure the ice-cold bitch and frigid comments, while you get to play the super-hot stud. So don't you dare stand there looking hurt and indignant. You're a lying, cheating coward, who destroyed my life and hopes for the future. Don't judge me like you have the moral high ground."

"This new disaster that you're facing is on you. You've been plotting and scheming for so long, it's become integral to who you are. Somewhere along the way, you lost your humanity. You can't distinguish between right and wrong. Not even when it comes to an innocent child, whose mother is lying in a hospital bed. You couldn't bring yourself to offer Camille a smidgen of sympathy."

"My children are innocent too," she cried desperately. "And so am I. I don't deserve to be cast aside like garbage. I loved you."

Fitz snorted in revulsion. "Love me? You love prestige and power. That's why you conspired with my father to arrange our accidental meeting in Frank's Tavern, so you could pitch yourself as my ideal woman. You never cared about me. You didn't see me, the man. You saw the White House and your Dolly Madison fantasy about to come true. You cared about what my becoming President would do for you. And finally, when you made it to First Lady, you spent your days whining and complaining you were bored."

"I was making plans…" she replied feebly.

"Mellie, let's be real, you spent eight years stamping your feet. You badgered me about wanting a real job in that self-entitled manner of yours that really rubs me up the wrong way. You wanted, correction, demanded to be made head of the CIA, for God's sakes. But you never came to Cyrus or me with a policy, report, or campaign strategy. Instead of trying to build something of your own, to propel you onto a successfully political career, you were more invested in profiling and riding my coattails, believing the Presidency would fall into your lap.

"Face it, it's just hot air with you, save for a few soundbites, there's no substance behind your ambition. For the past year you've attending the odd fundraising event with your sister, and the rest of your time has been spent lunching with the rest of the Stepford Wife clan. I've always accepted I let you down and strived hard to make amends. If you recall, during the final months of my presidency, we spoke privately, and I agreed to support your next career move. I promised you access to my campaign team. Olivia proposed -"

"I don't need you or that Pope woman," she interrupted contemptuously.

"You've always needed Olivia to sell your persona, and that's your problem."

"You can burn in hell."

"You sent me down there, over twenty years ago. I've served my time. Now. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House."

Mellie shuddered as word tore into her flesh and ravaged her spirit.

Thunderous knocking at the door made them both flinched. However they were both too far gone to stop slinging hard truths and insults.

To drown out the banging, Mellie up her volume and screamed at the top of her voice. "I'm not the one who hid your child from you. That was your precious Olivia Pope. But we've all got to bow down and sing praises to the No. 1 DC mover and shaker; and forget about her deceitful behavior. When are you going to stop thinking with your dick, and realize she's the real problem? I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you explain to your daughter why you didn't know she existed until five years ago. Say what you want about me - the original Ice Queen - but I would never keep a secret that would deprive my child of their father's love. What kind of a mother does that to her own flesh and blood?"

"What Olivia did, she did for you, me and our children. She acted out of love. She wanted to protect Camille and save my Presidency, that's what your No. 1 in my law class brain can't compute. Do you know the immense satisfaction I get from being with a woman that thinks with her head and her heart?"

Mellie scoffed derisively. "She's not doing too much thinking now is she, or likely to, in the near future? I'm sure you're aware coma patients can take months, even years, to fully recover," she struck back viciously.

Fitz took a sharp intake of breath and heaved, as he processed the stabbing pain in his chest, as a result of her inflammatory comments. "To say such a diabolical thing proves your lack of compassion and the monster that lives within you."

The loud knocking on the door kicked up a gear.

"Huh! Maybe my inner monster will let the real truth slip out before I'm banished from my children's home. And their lives," she added for dramatic effect.

"I'm warning you, you breath one word to Camille, and I swear to God, I will finish you; for good. You stay away the hell away from my daughter."

Three thunderous raps on the door finally did it for Fitz. He stormed across the room and wrenched the door open. "Gerry, I told you we weren't to be -"

"Karen's back," interrupted Gerry's deadpan voice.

Fitz's mouth dropped open. His face paled and his tense shoulders sagged hearing this unexpected news. "Karen's home?" he asked hoarsely.

Gerry's face held a look of digust and loathing as he stared between his battling parents. He curtly nodded. "She arrived with Camille."

"Camille? But she's at the hospital with Stephen."

"No, apparently she lost the plot when she found out you'd left. Karen showed up and they decided to come home. Together."

Fitz's eyes flipped back in shock. "I see." He stepped forward to leave the room.

Gerry slammed his palm against his father's chest and firmly shook his head. He looked coolly into his dad's spaced-out eyes. "Where do you think you're going?"

Offended, Fitz's neck jerked back and he glanced down at Gerry's hand, blocking his path to his daughters. "Do you mind?"

"They've locked themselves in Karen's room. No one's allowed in." Gerry explained, in no uncertain terms.

Fitz sighed wearily. What it is with my kids and locking room doors? he thought. "Alright, please do me a favor, when Teddy wakes up, don't tell him Camille or Karen's home?" He peered over his shoulders. "I want to avoid another temper tantrum."

Gerry shook his head. "What the hell is it with you two?"

"Gerry, your father's kicking me out," wailed Mellie.

Fitz half turned and glared at Mellie. "Don't lay this at my door. Tell to your son what you've been up to," he grounded out.

Mellie sealed her lips shut tight. She looked pinched-face, and her cheeks took on an unhealthy shade of day-glow red.

"Your mother decided to stir the hornet's nest. She stupidly sent those flowers here, from Jake Ballard, in the hope of causing problems between Camille and I... And presenting her with the perfect excuse to leave with you boys."

Gerry stared in horror at his mother. "Seriously, Mom, have you lost your mind?"

Clasping her hands together in a pleading motion. "Gerry, darling, it's not as straightforward as your father's making out," she said meekly.

"Christ, I can't believe the crap you're pulling. Karen's gonna go ape shit."

"Your father has systematically ruined my life and you're siding with him?" Mellie's watery eyes hopelessly scanned the room. "This is supposed to be mine. My happy ending."

Gerry threw up his hands and turned his back on them both. Electing to remain stoically detached from his parents' never ending feuding. "I don't wanna hear this bullshit."

Their son gone, Fitz strolled over to Mellie with pure contempt stemming from him. There was not an ounce of sympathy he could summon up for her current predicament. She'd brought this whole sorry mess upon herself.

He soon found himself standing behind her. "You're so consumed with hatred and bitterness, you didn't think about the potential repercussions of your actions. You saw Gerry's reaction and I imagine Karen's will be the same. Your grandiose plan has blown up in your face." He laughed bitterly. "My father thought you were the ultimate prize. He kept droning on about how beautiful, classy, and smart you were. How grateful I should be, to have a woman with such breeding show any interest in someone like me. Because we had the money – by the bucketload - but we didn't have the breeding that guarantees access to the right people and places. He desperately wanted that blue blood of yours pumping through his grandchildren's veins. But for all your airs and graces, there's nothing you like better than getting down 'n' dirty for a gutter fight."

Mellie sniffed dolefully. She lowered her head in disgrace and attempted to concentrate on her lavish outfits. But the expensive silk and cashmere materials suddenly felt like ash between her trembling fingers. Due to her need for revenge, she'd lost Fitz as a political ally and now risked losing the respect of her children and their support. Her dreams for the future lay in tatters.

Tauntingly, Fitz leaned in closer, his lips millimeters from her ear. "There's nothing awesome or spectacular about you, Miss. Millicent Montgomery. As my late mother would say: you're all fur coat and no knickers."

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AN: I apologize for another ridiculously long delay in updating this story. I've become addicted to Netflix and also dithering about the structure and content of this chapter. Thankfully, the wonderful justafan51 was on hand to guide me through my procrastination and indecisions. Weeks ago, she proposed I get into Olivia's head and write from her POV, so I did. It gives me great pleasure to credit her for her insight and co-writing the Olitz meta-physically conversation.

So, Mellie's plan to upset the applecart has resulted in Fitz kicking her to the curb. It had to happen, and I don't believe anyone's sorry to see her sorry ass on its way back to The Hamptons.

Fitz is in dreamland with Karen home. But his world is about to take a mind blowing turn when Karen comes clean about her secret and gives him an ultimatum concerning Olivia and Camille.

Oh, BTW Romare Bearden's Morning Guitar hangs in the Rockerfeller Centre, NY.

Happy Reading Gladiators!