Huck searched the net for clues while Quinn asked him endless questions. He didn't have any answers. Jake was making phone calls when Olivia walked inside OPA with her head low.

"Liv!" Jake yelled

"Are you okay? Huck asked.

"I'll get you an ice pack," Quinn said.

"I'm fine. Turn on the TV."

"What?" Quinn said.

"Turn on the TV. CNN, MSNBC, FOX any news station that is showing Fitzgerald Grant right now."

Huck followed Olivia's command. Fitz was giving an interview about climate change. Olivia moved closer to the TV.

"That's not Fitz."

"What?" Jake said.

"I don't know who that guy is, but he is not President Grant."

"Who did this?" Huck asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Olivia said, taking the ice pack from Quinn.

"Someone grabbed you and tortured you, and you don't want to talk about it!" Jake said.

"No," Olivia said.

The lights flickered in the office, and Olivia took her phone out of her pocket for the flashlight. She had a new text message. It was a picture of herself...with a message. Fitz says we have the same phone number, so I'm hoping that texting myself will reach you. It's far-fetched, but I'm out of options. Text me or call if you get this message.

Olivia's eyes widened, and she held her phone with trembling hands. It was real. This woman could be her identical twin. Instead of texting, Olivia walked to her office and pressed the call button. There was a lot of static. She ended the call and texted.

"I'm here. Who are you?"

"I'm you."

"Is Fitz with you?"

"Yes."

Olivia tried to send another message, but she kept getting an error not sent. She tried calling again, and it was static. The lights weren't flickering anymore.

"That was weird," Huck said.

"Yeah," Quinn said.

"So did the real president send you a text message?" Jake asked, sarcastically.

"I don't even know if he is okay, and you're jealous."

"Of course he's okay, he's the most protected person in the United States. It's not like he can steal the keys to someone's car and run away for the day."

"I think someone took him."

"Olivia, he's on TV."

"Right, so how did he send me a text message?"

"You know he sent the message before the interview."

"Take me home, and I don't want you to ask me any questions about Fitz."

"Why not?"

"Because right now, my life depends on certain information not getting to the media."

"Who took you Olivia?"

"I don't want you involved in this."

"What are you going to do Olivia? Beat up the bad guys without me?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm still trying to understand all of this. I don't know if Fitz is ever coming home to me. He might be stuck with her."

"Who?"

"I can't explain it. Take me home, please."

XXXX

"Now I'm certain you're following me."

"Well, until I can get back to my universe, you're the stand in love of my life."

"I don't like being second fiddle to anyone, not even myself."

"Have you found anything that can get me back to my timeline?"

"Yes and no."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I texted myself and your Olivia answered."

"Wow, you can communicate with Livvie?"

"I've tried texting her again, and the messages are not being sent."

"What did she say? Is she looking for me?"

"Yes, we didn't have a conversation. We know that we can communicate. That's it."

Fitz grinned. He was so excited, he pulled Olivia from her chair and swung her around in a circle. She squealed and laughed. Her arms around his neck, they made eye contact. Fitz didn't think. It was so natural to put his forehead to hers and kiss and then deepen the kiss. Olivia didn't break from him when he lowered her to the desk and lifted her dress. She spread her legs wide and kept kissing. Fitz was in a lust filled haze when he pulled the white lace to the side and entered Olivia. She moaned and pulled him deeper inside her. It was quick. No more than two minutes. Olivia clung to him, not wanting the contact to end.

"Olivia."

"You cheated on the love of your life with me."

Fitz stepped back and lowered his head before making eye contact with Olivia, "I can't stay here Olivia."

"Right, let's get back to finding a way to get you home."

"I like your hair curly like that," Fitz said, trying to lighten the conversation.

"I guess that's one good thing about working for myself. No corporate hair politics.

"Have you ever worked for the White House?"

"No, my friend Cyrus offered me a job on someone's campaign. I turned down the job. I never found out the guy's name. I would only be privy to that information if I accepted the offer. Otherwise, I would have to wait until he announced to the world that he was running for president. He changed his mind about running for president. Cyrus described him as a rich guy who didn't really want to be president. Anyways, my friend Cyrus and some of his close friends died in a boating accident on a vacation in Spain. I've been trying to find another way into getting a meeting with President Reston and more higher level contacts."

"What if that guy was me?"

"I don't think so. The media turned the accident into dog-whistle politics. I never heard the name Fitzgerald Grant until now."

"I'm sure the media is wondering where I am right now," Fitz said.

"Whoever sent you to this universe probably replaced you with a double."

"I hope you're wrong about that," Fitz said.