Disclaimer: Shondaland/ABC owns these characters. But I've taken the Gladiator oath as a writer: #OLITZ4LIFE #JAMMMMmmmm
No Mellie or Joke: Public Service Announcement for any accidental non-Olitz readers
"So Klunkett's been arrested for ethics violations and contravening the Fair Campaign Practices Act. My, my, and that's all before breakfast," Hollis licked a bit of creamy mustard that had escaped his gettysburger onto his thumb. " I'll be guessing that the name Olivia Pope is giving you heartburn right now, Ms Langston."
Sitting opposite Hollis in the limousine heading towards Capitol Hill, Sally Langston cast a sour look. "Klunkett was dispensable. He had delusions of grandeur that I was no longer willing to entertain. Once I discovered that he was stealing money from the destitute, I knew he had to go."
Hollis paused in the act of taking another bit of his burgher, and chortled. "My, my. I do believe I have underestimated the lengths you will go to smite your enemies, Sal."
"I would bear that in mind, Hollis."
"Oh, you don't scare me, Madam Vice President. In fact, it gives me a fuzzy warm glow right down to my custom-made alligator boots to recognise a kindred spirit."
"We have nothing in common except a desire for power. The difference is that I desire it out of Christian goodness, while you are pursuing the seven deadly sins."
"Now, Sal," Hollis burped. "I am almost inclined to feel insulted, because sloth has never been one of my vices."
"Ah, a glimmer of salvation in the cesspit of your soul."
"Don't you worry about my soul, Sally. You'll need more than prayers to get to where you want to go. And I'm talking about them pearly gates of the White House."
"Hollis Doyle, I can assure you that I won't stop until I get my name in that particular Book of Life."
"Where'd he go?"
"He went into that men's clothing boutique."
"Right. Let's go," Abby grabbed Quinn's elbow and pulled her forward, but Quinn dug her boots into the snow-scattered side walk.
"We can't go in there! It'll be obvious we're following him!"
"Why would it be obvious? We could be going in there to buy a gift."
"A gift?"
"Yeah, for Harrison."
They entered the boutique, pausing when everyone turned to look at the two of them clattering their way in, on polished wooden floorboards. Then Abby hissed, "Don't look so suspicious!"
"Me?! That smile is so fake, even a toothpaste commercial would pass."
Before Abby could explode, a sales assistant glided towards them with a pleasant smile. "Ladies, how can I help you today?"
"We're buying a gift," Quinn muttered.
"A tie," Abby said. "Got any of those?"
The man winced, but kept his smile intact. "We have several. If you would care to come this way."
They were about to follow, when Quinn stopped abruptly and hissed, "The eagle is flying!"
Both the assistant and Abby looked at her strangely.
"The eagle we've been chasing," Quinn said fiercely, looking at Abby. "Flap, flap – out, out!" She jerked her head towards the door.
"Oh, that eagle. Yeah, sorry, that tie will have to wait. We've got an eagle to catch," Abby told the worried looking assistant, as she grabbed Quinn's elbow and dragged her out of the store. Only to come to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk, seeing James Novak standing there, waiting.
"Why are you following me?" he demanded without preamble.
"We're not following you!" Abby protested.
"Yeah, we went in there to buy a tie," Quinn asserted.
"So where's the tie?"
The women looked at each other, then Quinn said archly, "We couldn't find anything we liked."
"For your S&M party?"
"Yes," said Abby.
"No!" Quinn glared at her. "It was a gift for Harrison."
James studied both women with a cynical gaze. "Nice try. But I'm an investigative reporter, and I've been followed by professionals. The two of you aren't professionals."
"We're professionals!" Abby glared at him.
"Professional lawyers," Quinn stressed.
"So I'll ask you again why are you following me? Did Olivia put you up to this?"
"No! This is all Abby's idea," Quinn muttered.
Abby scowled. "What Lindsay meant to say is that we want to help you organise Olivia's wedding."
"Olivia's wedding? That's why you're following me?"
The other two nodded.
"So you want to give up your day jobs earning $1000 an hour, to help me organise a wedding for free? And Olivia's okay with this?"
"It's a surprise, and we're doing this in our spare time," Abby shrugged.
"Because we need hobbies," Quinn said blandly.
"How many weddings have you organised?"
"None," they both said, then Abby snapped, "How many weddings have you organised?"
"One."
"Got anyone helping you?"
"No."
"So you need our help, and we're here to help, seems like a done deal to me," Quinn shrugged.
"Yeah, done deal," Abby said emphatically.
The three looked at each other, then James sighed, "Well, I could use the help. There is a lot to get done and we've got so little time."
"Okay, so where should we start?" Quinn asked.
"Wait, I'm curious," Abby frowned. "How did you know we were following you?"
"You've been following me since I left Ella at Day care. I saw you on the Metro, then at the deli and organic market. And it's hard to miss the two of you when you're wearing identical deerstalker hats, and those sun-glasses when it's six-degrees and cloudy out here."
"It was kind of calming at the beginning seeing you pace."
"Like seeing fish swimming in a tank."
"But you're still doing it and we're concerned. What's going on, Liv?"
Arms crossed over her chest, Oliva came to standstill and looked at Harrison and Huck waiting just inside the doorway to her office, their faces creased with identical frowns of worry.
"I'm trying to figure out how I can be this person: juggling my job, my new role as the President's wife and the mother of three children, possibly four."
Harrison angled a look at her. "Wait... are you saying... has the stork paid you a visit?"
Olivia and Huck stared at him in confusion, then Harrison said carefully, "You know, this…" He cradled an imaginary baby in his arms.
"Oh! No!" Olivia laughed. "No, the stork hasn't visited! We're not going there yet. I was talking about Peter, Jerry's friend. He'll be staying with us during the holidays." She perched on the edge of her desk. "I'm just worried that I won't be able to manage it all."
"Liv, you're the fixer. You've handled dictators, gangsters, murderers and government spies. You can handle a bunch of kids."
"And the President. He likes you handling him."
Olivia and Harrison looked at Huck, he stared back at them impassively, then Harrison said, "You need to step back, Liv. You said you were going to, but you've been doing more hours since you made that announcement. So take the day off. Take the week off. Actually take as much time off as you need. We'll handle things around here."
"Yeah. Go home, Liv."
"I just feel like I... can't."
"You can." Harrison went to get her coat and scarf, while Huck got her bag and her phone. Then they bundled her out of the office. "See it's easy, now put one foot in front of the other and go."
"What if—"
"We'll handle it," Harrison said.
"Yeah, I got my tools here."
"We don't need your tools."
"I'm prepared for the worst."
"Even if the worst happens, we're not going to need your tools."
"Okay, I'm leaving." Olivia smiled, shaking her head as she headed towards the elevator.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Miss me?"
"No."
"No?!"
"Not since I got my blow-up doll as a replacement for my real fiancée who has become a figment of my imagination."
"Okay, just for that, I'm re-thinking telling you about my surprise."
"What surprise?"
"I'd tell you, but since you've replaced me with a blow-up doll..."
"I could never replace you. You are irreplaceable. Now tell me."
"Mmm... no."
"Livvie...! I'm crazy about you. I miss you. I spend half my day imagining you naked, I did that this morning, in the middle of the cabinet meeting."
"Half your day? What about the other half?"
"I imagine all the things I'll do to you the next time I see you naked, which will be summer, I know. Or spring, if I'm really lucky."
"Fitz! Stop trying to guilt me into quitting my job!"
"No. Now tell me about the surprise."
"Be at the Fort Dupont Ice Arena at three-thirty."
There was a silence, then he chuckled. "Was that an order or an invitation?"
"You tell me since you're the one issuing a lot of orders lately. I thought I'd return the favour – so you know how your minions feel."
"My blow-up doll doesn't mind me giving orders. She respects a man in command."
"Really? Then you better start dreaming about her too. Because it'll be winter, possibly 2020, before you see me naked."
"Ouch."
"Yep."
"So three-thirty at Fort Dupont ice rink, Ms Minion?"
"Winter 2035."
Fitz was still grinning over the phone call as he shrugged on his coat, preparing to leave for his impromptu date with Olivia, when his security advisors barged into the Oval Office.
"Sir, the Iranian President has sent word that he's willing to talk to you!"
"The Iranian President? The guy who has been avoiding me during his official visit here? The guy who even skipped the United Nations luncheon a few days ago so he wouldn't have to see me – that guy?"
"Yes, sir, that guy."
"Huh, guess those talks between John and the Foreign Minister really were constructive. So when's he coming over?"
"He, uh, wants you to call him. And, uh, he's on his way to the airport in New York."
Fitz gave a narrowed eyed stare until one of the advisors said diffidently, "Sir, the last time a United States President spoke to an Iranian leader was in 1979 – when President Jimmy Carter called Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi."
"I know. This is historic. I get that...Okay. Let's do this. And get Lauren in here. I need her to call Olivia."
Olivia shifted in the seat, looking at her watch, waiting in the Secret Service vehicle that had arrived to pick up the kids from school. She then sat forward, seeing them walk out the school gates; Karen eagerly dragging on Jerry's hand, while he looked bored.
The kids were halfway into the car before they saw her, then Karen yelled, "Mommy!" before scrambling onto Olivia's lap to give her a hug.
Laughing, Olivia hugged her back, then looked at Jerry.
The smile that had automatically lit up his face at seeing Olivia, had been wiped off by the time he took his seat beside her and asked with a quizzical frown, "Wait, who are you again?"
"Silly, this is Mom," Karen giggled, her arms wrapped around Olivia's neck.
"She feels like Mom," Jerry prodded Olivia's arm, then said, "Say 'aaah'?"
"Aaaah," Olivia obliged.
'And she sounds like Mom, but it's been days since we've actually seen her, so we can't really be sure it's Mom."
Olivia reached out to take his hand. "Jer, I'm sorry I've been working late the last few days, and I haven't seen you guys as much. But I'll do better, starting today. Promise," Olivia squeezed his hand and kissed Karen's cheek. "So forgive me?"
"Forgiven." Karen kissed her back. Only Jerry remained staring at her with narrow-eyed suspicion. "What's special about today?"
"Today is special, because I've booked a private session at the Fort Dupont ice rink and you have it all to yourselves for a couple of hours."
"I love ice-skating!" Karen cried gleefully, hugging Olivia again.
"Yeah, but Mom doesn't," Jerry smirked. "Wow. You really are trying to make it up to us, aren't you?"
"So are we okay?"
"Yeah," Jerry slid his arm around Olivia's shoulders. "If you throw in a couple of RibRitos, I'll be okay with you doing another couple of all-nighters at work."
A/N: So I've filched the historic conversation President Barack Obama had with Iranian President Hassan Rouhani in September for Fitz. (BTW, it truly pains me to keep giving this stellar moments to a Republican President, but you know I keep thinking of Fitz as a closet Democrat. Not that any actual Democratic President has caught the world's imagination as much as Barack Obama in my living memory). Anyway, if you're interested in reading about the real-life conversation, see U.S. and Iran Agree to Speed Talks to Defuse Nuclear Issue by Peter Baker, published in The New York Times on Sep 27, 2013.
Also the hourly rate was referenced from the article: Jill Kelley Retains High Profile Crisis Manager, Despite Reportedly Being In Debt by Elizabeth Flock, in US News published Nov, 21, 2012. Apparently Judy Smith can charge between $300-$800 an hour for her services according to that article, I figured that it should be about $1000 now, with inflation factored in (yes, calculated at South Sudan's inflation rates which according to Wikipedia is 79%).
BTW, thank you for letting me bombard you with my love of all things Politic – heh, heh… I am stockpiling soap boxes as we speak!
Aaaand THANK YOUUUUU SO MUCH for all your comments )))) *sniff* you guys are the best – and I would encourage every closet writer to break out on the Scandal FanFiction site. It will be a truly life-changing experience!