Chapter One
AN: Sorry, apparently my first update was really screwed up! I hope this works, just let me know if it doesn't!
Elevator buttons and morning air
Harvard Law School, 1997
Twenty-one-year-old Olivia Pope pushed open the door to her first class at Harvard. Her schedule, which she'd already memorized along with a map of the Harvard campus, was tucked away in her saddle bag. She'd worked hard to finish her undergrad at Georgetown in three years and worked even harder to score the highest LSAT score to ever come out of the institution to land herself a spot at Harvard Law. She knew she'd have to work twice as hard to maintain the respect of the professors and her peers. She was young, she was female, she was from a middle-class family, she was here on loans, and she was not white. She wasn't interested in making friends. She wanted connections to the business world, good grades, a couple of strong internships, a diploma, and to pass the Bar. That was it. Get in and get out. No muss, no fuss.
Determined to do her family proud, she paused in the doorway to assess the seating situation in her first class with Judge Randall. Criminal Law. Most of the students hadn't arrived, the professor wasn't even present yet. As she zoned in on a chair in the middle of the room someone knocked into her.
"Watch it!" She turned to see the person who had bumped into her.
The man, tall and lean with a mop of curly brown hair, looked down at her. "Sorry," he flashed her a bright grin and continued to move to the chair she'd mentally chosen for herself.
With a small huff of annoyance, she picked a seat a few desks over where a tiny brunette was already seated. Settling in with just a nod to the young woman, Olivia pulled out her book and a notebook.
Fifteen minutes into the class a loud debate was going on between the students regarding the case they'd had to read up on before school even started.
"You can't dismiss her just because she was a victim. She was also a witness. And yes, there were clear emotional and mental issues and traumas, but what she says could be important." Olivia argued.
"She was too close to the defendant. She was his girlfriend for crying out loud." Another shot back.
"Being close has nothing to do with it. Her story was destroyed by the police the moment she was questioned. She's unreliable."
Olivia's eyes landed on the latest voice of dissent. It came from the man who'd run into her and stolen her seat. Taking a deep breath, Olivia continued to make her point, "That doesn't mean the prosecution can't put her on the stand. They could still question her and"
"And what?" He snapped, 'What would they gain from that?"
"They could show that the story she fed the cops, who other than showing a mixed up timeline was never discredited, and show it was actually a way to protect Jones." Olivia explained sharply.
Judge Randall chuckled, "Well, Miss" he paused and motioned for her to say her name.
"Pope. Olivia Pope." She introduced herself, watching as most of the class recognized her name.
"Well, Miss Pope, it seems that you and Mr." He paused again.
"Grant, Fitzgerald Grant." The man responded. Olivia had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She'd heard Senator Grant's son was out of the Navy and going to law school on the east coast. She'd prayed for Yale.
"It seems that you and Mr. Grant both make interesting points. Tell me, even though we've already proved that Jenkins is an unreliable witness, who would put her on the stand anyhow?" Half of the class raised their hands. "And who wouldn't?" The remaining hands shot up. "Interesting." He paused, "Mr. Grant, rebuttal?"
SSS
Fitzgerald Grant saw the recognition in Olivia's eyes when he introduced himself. He recognized her name as well. He'd heard she was a prodigy. And he watched as that tiny prodigy dismissed him as nothing more than a pretty boy with daddy's money and a good head of hair. Still, she didn't back down from the fight and she didn't make it any easier on him. He liked that about her. He found her fire sexy.
Waiting around the corner from their classroom, Fitz snagged Olivia's elbow as she was leaving after class. "Fitz Grant." He held his hand out to her.
Olivia rolled her eyes, "Not interested." She tried to ease her way past him.
"It's nice to meet you, Olivia." Fitz continued undaunted, not moving. "Pretty good job in there."
Olivia let out a scoff, "Yes, because I'm looking for the approval of Senator Jerry Grant's son." She tried to step around him again, "See you in class."
Fitz side-stepped her again so he was back in front of her, "Actually, I was thinking you may want to have a cup of coffee. With me." He clarified. "We could go over the readings together, get the debating out of the way, and come up with a kick ass argument that"
Olivia cut him off, "Group work leads to me doing all the work." She paused, "No, thank you."
Fitz chuckled, "Actually, I'm a lot smarter than you're giving me credit for. One cup of coffee?" He requested. "If I seem like an idiot you can leave and I won't bother you again." He promised.
Glancing down at her watch, Olivia noted that if she didn't leave now, she'd be late for her next class. "Fine, tomorrow afternoon. 4pm. The shop in the Quad. Don't be late."
Saluting her, Fitz shot her a wink, "You got it, Livie."
SSS
Olivia realized ten minutes into her cup of coffee with Fitzgerald Grant that she had not only underestimated him and his intelligence, but that she would not be able to skate by during her three years here at Harvard without connections. The brown haired-blue eyed thirty-one year old from California who was sitting across from her drinking black coffee was a game changer. And based on the sparkle in his eyes, he felt the same way about her. Fitz Grant was refreshingly open and honest. He was smart and witty and driven and passionate. He was different.
When the coffee date ended with a plan of attack for class the next day and drinks before a party on Greek Row Friday night, Olivia knew she was in trouble. And she couldn't find herself to care.
SSS