Disclaimer: Terry chemistry and American Politics inspired this story.

Quote: Horizontal hostility may be expressed in sibling rivalry or in competitive duelling which wrecks not only office tranquillity or suburban domesticity but also some radical political groups and, it must be sadly said, some women's liberation groups… [It is] misdirected anger that rightly should be focused on the external causes of oppression. – Florynce Kennedy, American civil rights attorney, political activist, and feminist.

Media analysis of the debate

Democrat Pundits

Talking Head 1: "That was a beautifully orchestrated pas de deux."

Talking Head 2: "They did it in one take. Next stop Broadway."

Talking Head 3: "There was just enough spice between the two women to show their differences but that they were willing to put those aside to work together."

Talking Head 1: "What did you think of Mrs Langston's message that the best man for the job is a woman?"

Talking Head 3: "With Mrs Langston's record, I doubt that she would fit her own job description. Her Veep candidate, Mrs Grant is a relative unknown for us to judge her abilities. She does have a solid reputation as a crisis manager, but that involved putting out spot fires for private clients who could afford her top-tier fees. We don't know how well her credentials would stand up when she has to deal with national crises."

Talking Head 2: "That's right. They did make it sound like we've got a raging blaze on several fronts, a lot of issues that needed to be fixed, but can a fixer who was paid to protect the reputations of the rich and famous be the best woman for the job?"

Media analysis of the debate

Republican Pundits

Talking Head 1: "Well that was a fine Dosey Doe between two accomplished dancers."

Talking Head 2: "But did they take a step too far to the left? Unless Mrs Grant plans on nationalising industries, the Fight for $15 or doubling the minimum wage, will burden businesses. There'd be no new jobs if employers had to increase wages for their existing workforce."

Talking Head 3: "Shows Mrs Grant's inexperience. The states are setting their own minimum wage laws without the need for Congress to step in. Mrs Grant herself was an entrepreneur before she threw her hat into the political rat race. I doubt she'd have wanted some Suits on Capitol Hill to decide what she should have charged her clients."

Talking Head 1: "There was no mention of China. A strange side-step when you consider that China is planning to spend 8 trillion dollars in 68 countries as part of its Belt and Road Project. Is it just me, or do you think Mrs Grant would like the good ole US to be part of that initiative?"

Talking 2: "If it's dressed like a chicken, and clucks like a chicken it ain't always a chicken. The Belt and Road plan, aimed at resurrecting China's historical Silk Road trading route, is a smokescreen. You know they mean to take us down as the world's only superpower. And we're talking about a one-party nation that doesn't believe in democracy, controlling the world"

Talking Head 3: "A one party nation, where 92 per cent of its population identify as Han. And a country that doesn't have a Bill of Rights…"

"Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room?" Fitz whispered after Olivia had walked off the stage.

"That I'm a Republican?"

"That Sally tried to kill you!"

"She said she didn't."

"We're taking her word as fact?"

"Until I can prove she did, yes."

"Olivia!"

"Fitz!" Olivia was suddenly in his face, or rather, up against his chest. "I'm feeling pumped!"

"You… " He stared down at her, slowly absorbing her expression, his ears reddening with the realisation of what she meant. Then he grabbed her hand and hurried them along the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Olivia snuffled a laugh, glancing over her shoulder as she trotted along, trying to keep up with her husband's long strides.

Fitz didn't respond, opening doors at random until he found a storage room for musical instruments. "Watch the maracas." He lifted her over the scattered wooden shakers on the floor.

"You say the sexiest things," Olivia giggled until he cut her off with a kiss.

"You going to vote for Sally?" Huck asked Tom standing to attention next to him.

"I'll vote for Olivia."

"It's a two-for-one deal."

"That's the inconvenient truth."

The two men lapsed into silence.

They stirred out of their stupor when Karen skipped up to them. "Have you seen Mom? Sally's looking for her."

Tom and Huck looked at each other and shook their heads in unison. "Nope. No. Haven't seen them."

"Oh... yeah, Dad's gone missing too."

Tom eyed Huck. "You let that cat out of the bag."

"Kids are really smart," Huck mumbled, looking straight ahead.

"Are they in there?" Karen looked towards the closed door that had Huck's attention.

"Man, this kid can read you like a book."

"Zeke wants to recruit her."

"I'm still here, and I can hear you. And you didn't answer my question."

"What question? You asked a question?"

"We don't know the answer to the question."

Karen looked from one to the other. "Okay, I'll wait here until I get an answer."

Both men exchanged a look, and tried not to smile.

"We've still got it." Olivia clung to Fitz's shoulders, as he kissed the sweat on her brow.

Fitz chuckled. "I'll have to work out more as I see Closetgate featuring heavily in my future. I just need to convince Sally to let you to do a lot more public speaking."

"Closetgate?" Olivia smiled. "Shouldn't it be Music-room-gate?"

"Closetgate sounds better." Fitz kissed her lips, before sliding her down to stand on her feet, holding her steady as she tried to locate her shoes among the maracas.

"Remember our first campaign?"

"Not something I'd ever forget," Fitz said gruffly, holding Olivia's hand over his heart as he kissed her again.

It took some time before were more or less dressed, except for Olivia's panties which Fitz had ripped off, and now lay in tatters in his jacket pocket, Olivia smoothed down her hair and brushed a speck off Fitz's sleeve. "Are we decent?"

"Nope."

Olivia laughed, taking one of his hands and weaving her fingers through his, before reaching for the door. They both paused in the doorway at the sight of Huck and Tom staring impassively ahead, without making eye contact.

Next to them was Karen grinning from ear to ear. "Mom, Dad, what were you doing in there?"

There was a muffled snort from Huck which he quickly turned to a cough, when Tom turned to look at him.

After a brief glance at Olivia, Fitz said solemnly, "It's classified, Pumpkin. Mom and I were discussing state secrets."

"Nice try at a save." Olivia said as she stepped out of the girls' toilets and met Fitz on his way out of the boys'.

"Think she bought it?" Fitz asked.

"Not for a second."

"Didn't think so."

Two Men in a Club

"The private enterprise angle has put a dent into the Grant woman's socialist message."

"Got people talking about her clients, what they did, and what they paid."

They clinked glasses and smiled.

The Cosh Brothers

"The China angle is working its magic."

"It's early days. The Grant woman has a way of diffusing the situation. Reckon, that's why they paid her top dollar."

"She can talk all day long but we still have a trick up our sleeves."

Media Update…

Female news anchor: "Well the latest poll indicates some surprising results."

Male news anchor: [Laughing] "That's an understatement. Our Republican candidates for the White House, have taken the great leap forward. Mrs Sally Langston and Mrs Olivia Pope-Grant are gaining ground on front-runner and Democrat for President, Mr Edison Davis."

Female news anchor: "We know the polls can get it wrong. Historically, many candidates, with the majority of popular votes, didn't get to be President of the United States. But that's not stopping the two Republican women for the White House as they begin a mini-campaign tour of the Swing States today…"

Sally and Olivia hit the campaign trail…

Question from a crowd gathered in a barn: "Are you going to double the minimum wage with this Fight for $15 nuisance? Because I can tell you right now that I can't afford to pay my workers any more than I do right now."

Sally: "We're not campaigning to raise the Federal Minimum wage. A vote for the Republican ticket will not be a vote to raise either your taxes or minimise your profits. The Republican party is the party for business we support lower taxes, deregulation, and the free market. I stand for job creation."

Interruption from a man at the back: "Those jobs are done by migrants like me and we get paid nada!" [Two burly ranch hands appeared by the man's side, flashed a pair of badges, and attempted to drag him outside].

Olivia: "No! Let him speak!"

Interrupter [shaking off the men still holding him]: "Mrs Grant, I heard that Iowa farmers got $1.3 billion in federal subsidies, but they are not paying us. We are forced to sue our bosses to get backpay and decent housing. This is not fair! We earn less than minimum wage. But getting paid nothing is worse."

Olivia: "My slave ancestors would agree. The average farm worker's wage hasn't changed since 2009. Yet, migrant workers paid $1.1 billion in personal income tax in 2017. I get that not all of them were farm workers but we must understand that you only pay income tax if you get an income. And employers cannot take tax-payer subsidies with one hand, without honouring basic worker rights established under Federal law with the other. That shouldn't be a stretch for any Republican voter to grasp as the Republican Party is also the party of law and order."

A reporter in the front: "Mrs Langston, the state of Iowa also gave more than $200 million in tax credits to Apple for a data facility that created 50 jobs. Do you think that's a good return on investment?"

Sally: "What Iowa does is Iowa's business."

Outside the barn, Sally turned to Olivia. "People can't live on what they earn because they want to keep up with the Joneses. We reward entrepreneurs."

"We reward them with corporate welfare – tax credits, bailouts, state or federal subsidies. It's like having a wealthy parent to call on when you need help, except 'rich Mommy or Daddy' is the tax payer, who isn't getting any breaks because it's a crime to be poor in this country."

"Olivia, it would do you good to remember which side of your bread is buttered."

"I butter my own bread."

"That is naïve. Even with your husband's wealth, the kind we need to win an election depends on far deeper pockets than you or I have."

"We can't bring in the change we need, by maintaining the status quo."

"We won't fix what ain't broke."

"It's broken, Sally. It's been broken for a long time. And we can't fix it by listening to those who benefit from a system that is broken for an increasing number of Americans."

After Sally had walked off with a straight back, Fitz circled his arms around Olivia.

"You are a star."

"I'm glad you think so." Olivia sighed.

"Come on, let's take a walk."

Olivia drew back to give him a cheeky grin. "A walk?"

"Mm… a walk… a little on the wild side."

She chuckled reaching for his hand. "Let's go!"

Several minutes later, Olivia stared at the undulating fields of corn before them. "I don't see a closet anywhere."

Fitz chuckled, tightening his hold on her hand. "There is a lot of corn."

"A long way off from here to there."

With impeccable timing, an old farm truck drove up with Tom at the wheel and Huck in the passenger seat, and a huge bale of hay in the back.

"Need a ride?" Tom asked.

"On a bale of hay?"

"The view is better from up there," Huck said solemnly. "And we promise we won't look."

Olivia leaned into Fitz. "Should we trust them?"

The two men smiled.

"With your life." Fitz chuckled. "But it will be one heck of a bumpy ride!"

Sally and Olivia continue the campaign trail…

Question from a reporter touring a factory with the candidates, in a Rust Belt state: "What's your position on the Chinese treatment of the Uyghurs?"

Sally: "I support, unequivocally, Republican Senator Marco Rubio's Uyghur Act which aims to sanction the Chinese government for any human rights abuses that include torture, abduction, detention without trial and the cruel treatment of Muslims minority groups in China."

Interruption from a worker in a hard hat and safety vest: "What's your position about the Muslims tortured and detained without trial in Guantanamo Bay?"

Sally: [ignores question]

Olivia: "Are you asking if it's okay for one government to torture and imprison a group of people without trial, while condemning another? [At the man's nod] No, all governments should be accountable under the Nuremberg Principles. None of us want to live in a world where life, liberty and freedom is threatened because you are a minority or you take minority view. Or because the person in power is prejudiced against your community. China recognises 55 ethnic minorities and Uyghurs are the second largest Muslim minority after the Hui ethnic group. And I am concerned about reported human rights violations from the northwest autonomous region of Xinjiang where the Uyghurs have been fighting to become a separate state since 1931. At the same time, the Chinese government has a zero-tolerance policy on terrorism by extremist groups that have chosen violence as the means to achieve their ends. A position that the Bush Administration shared, in relation to Al Qaeda."

Another reporter: "Mrs Langston, do you agree the end justifies the means?"

Sally: "Depends on the ends we are trying to achieve."

Clouds gathered as Sally and Olivia were driven to the administration building where their campaign buses were parked, ready to take them back to their respective hotels.

"Sally, you don't believe torture is justified?"

"I do."

"It's a violation of human rights! And ineffective for gathering intelligence. Torture is more likely to create terrorism, than stop it!"

"Olivia, we must put the fear of God in the hearts of our enemies. That is the end that justifies the means."

"Did you two have another argument?" Fitz asked, seeing Sally walk towards her own bus with a cursory goodbye.

"She believes we should put the fear of God into our enemies, through torture."

"Try talking about the weather next time. Or the latest fashion trends." Fitz opened the umbrella and drew Olivia under it, as it began to spit. "On a serious note, if you've changed your mind about being Deputy Evil Incarnate, we can get on that bus and go straight home."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"Livvie, I'm okay with whatever you decide. I love you."

On the Grant campaign bus

"Do you think Mom will have another girl?" Karen asked, holding Gracie up to the window to watch Olivia and Fitz kiss under the umbrella in the pelting rain.

Jerry, who'd been trotting up and down the aisle with a giggling Teddy on his shoulders, paused to peer over her shoulder. "You shouldn't say things like that. You know Grandpa Pope doesn't like us talking about sex."

"I heard that, young man!"

"Oh, leave Jerry alone, Rowan."

"You hear that, old man?"

Ignoring them all, Karen told Gracie. "Wouldn't you like another sister, Gracie? You would, wouldn't you? There are way too many boys in this family."

"How much longer do you think they'll be?" Peter looked up from his tablet.

"Until we get another girl in the family." Jerry called from a few seats down.

On final day of campaigning, the arguments started early when Sally made changes to their schedule and advised Olivia afterwards.

"You want to us do a live television show, then have supper with one of your donors?"

"One of our donors, Olivia. The man would like us both to win, on the Republican ticket."

"And this show was on the news, after a guest died while planking."

"That was a long time ago. They changed the concept, host, producers, everything."

"I don't feel good about this."

"Olivia, we need young people to vote – that's the 'make or break' demographic in this election."

"Do we know how many young people, who watch this show, actually vote?"

"They will after we show them our 'fun' side."

"Sally, you don't have a fun side."

"Olivia, let me surprise you."

"Remind me again," Quinn breathed out a noisy sigh as they tried to look inconspicuous behind a potted plant. "Why are we following Sally as she tries to find the 'perfect red dress' to wear tonight?"

"I told you something doesn't smell right."

"This is boring and I'm feeling a bit peckish."

Without a word, Abby handed her packet of gum. "Chew on that."

"Not what I need, but I'll take it." Quinn grabbed the packet before Abby could whisk it away. "What's she buying now?" Quinn mumbled through a mouthful.

"A wig."

"A wig?! Lemme see! She's buying a wig that looks like her own hair!"

Abby fished out her phone. "Liv needs to know about this."

"Why would Sally buy a wig?" Olivia tickled Gracie under her chin.

"Maybe they'll be setting your hair on fire. They do some really outrageous things on that show." Fitz peered through his reading glasses at the laptop screen, scrolling through reviews of past episodes. "Let me call the show."

After a brief discussion, Fitz turned to Olivia who was burping Gracie after her feed. "They won't set your hair on fire. Or tar and feather you."

"That's a relief."

"Still doesn't explain why Sally was buying a wig."

"One of life's great mysteries," Olivia murmured vaguely, mopping Gracie after she burped a mouthful of milk.

When they got to the production studio, Sally smiled, giving Olivia's fitted jeans, tooled leather jacket and cowgirl boots a once over. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've been doing rodeos since you were in nappies."

"Not a patch on you, Sally." Olivia returned the smile, as she complimented Sally's similar Western-style outfit, then glanced at Sally's head, but her hair looked real.

Fitz and the kids, similarly dressed, were ushered into a private room near the main studio, equipped with a snack bar, wide screen television and arcade games.

"I could live here." Jerry grinned, plopping himself on a wide leather couch.

"Feet off." Fitz swept Jerry's feet off the end of the couch, as he phoned Felicia at the hotel, to check on Gracie and Teddy, and to get an update on Peter's chess game with Rowan.

"Peter's lost a knight," he told Karen, who was twirling on the tips of her boots watching her skirt flare out.

"He might still win, but I don't think so. Grandpa Pope is hard to beat."

"You got that right."

While Olivia and Sally were getting camera-ready, the show's producers introduced themselves, adding, "The program will run pretty much as we discussed last week, Mrs Langston."

Last week? Olivia let the words sink in.

"BTW, we have a sell-out show tonight. Fastest run on tickets we had in a while."

To prove the point, Sally and Olivia's entrance was met with whistles, applause, and a stamping of feet from a packed audience.

"Whoa! Whoa!" The Stetson-wearing host held up his hands. "We don't want to bring the roof down. Ladies, that's the finest southern welcome we've had on this show. I'd say you've got some fans around here."

"Let's hope y'all vote!" Sally called out.

Even before the teleprompter flashed, several signs went up, reading, 'Vote Langston and Grant!'

"I reckon we've got the youth vote covered in this audience. Now...before we side-tracked... I'm going let our guests know our plans for this evening. Sally, Olivia, we know politics is a rough game, but you've weathered many a political storm. On the campaign trail, we've seen you two work together. What we really want to see is how well you work against each other – in order to win. Are you game?"

Sally rubbed her hands together. "I'm on it like a duck on a June bug."

As the audience laughed, the host turned to Olivia who'd been rather quiet. "Olivia, would you like to add to that, in your best Southern accent."

Olivia smiled. "Well, my daddy did say that if you can't run with the big dogs, you better stay on the porch."

Laughter erupted with several wolf-whistles, as the host said jovially, "Did your Pa really say that?"

"No," Olivia dropped the Southern accent, "He said there'll be no dogs at the wedding, when Fitz and I got married."

"I reckon, he was talking about Olivia's old flames!" The host winked at the audience.

"No, he was talking about the 4-legged members of our family, real doggies."

"Marry me, Olivia! My Pa will let you have dogs at our wedding!" A male voice yelled from the audience.

"Mine too!"

"We better get started before there's a stampede for your hand in marriage…" The host paused, interrupted by shrieks of laughter. He turned to the source of the furor at the same time as the camera, connected to the giant screen in front of the audience, panned over to Fitz striding into view.

Fitz looked stern under his Stetson as he went straight to Olivia, bent her over his arm and gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the lips.

When he let her up for air, Olivia snatched his hat off and fanned herself. "Oh my!"

"Say you're mine! And only mine, Livvie! To all the eager young beavers in this audience!"

"Oh Fitzy, I am yours, only yours! Always and forever!"

She held the hat up as cover, as Fitz came in for another kiss.

The crowd went wild, and it took several minutes before the production crew could get everyone to calm down, and for Fitz to be led off the stage, much to the disappointment of his newly-acquired fan base.

"That kiss was hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch." The host fanned himself with his own Stetson. "Okay, okay. I'm being told that sexy time is over, we really need to get this show on the road before the riot police come banging on the studio doors!"

"Sally looks madder than a wet hen!" Quinn peered through the binoculars from the back row.

"You ain't Southern, stop talking like you are." Abby hissed.

"You're doing it too!"

"I sure am," Abby admitted.

They turned their attention back to the stage as the audience began chanting: "Three…two…two and a half… two and a quarter… ONE!"

"Your first event is...to catch a live hen that has escaped the hen house!''

Both women gave the audience a hilarious time by chasing outraged, squawking hens, but Olivia managed to catch hers first by throwing her jacket over the bird and transferring the struggling bundle, ruffled feathers and all, into a cage while Sally's hen ran off backstage.

The second event had the audience laughing the moment real cows with bells around their necks, were walked in. Sally grabbed the wooden stool and steel bucket to begin her milking task with gusto, while Olivia stared at the cow's udder and scratched her head.

A couple of audience members who tried to sneak over and help, were shooed back. But when Karen tiptoed out and hissed, "Mom! Mom!" the production crew pretended they couldn't see Olivia sidle towards Karen and sidle back, with Karen tiptoeing behind her, towards the cow.

In minutes, Olivia yelled, "Finished!"

"What?!" Sally jumped up, nearly knocking her pail over, then huffed at the sight of Karen holding Olivia's hand, "That's cheating!"

The host had to admit with reluctance, "Olivia, you lose this one for … uh… delegating."

"But the kid was faster!" The audience yelled, among the booing that broke out.

"Yeah, but the kid is not officially in this race. So, kid," the host went down on his knee before Karen. "Got a name?"

Karen nodded. "I'm Karen, and this is my Mom." She smiled at Olivia.

"Your Mom send you to work on a farm, instead of sending you off to school?"

"Oh no. I had another Mom and she sent me to stay with her parents who had a ranch. I used to help with the milking. That's how I know one end of a cow from the 'udder'."

"Give the kid a point! She's a little cutie!"

The host held up his hands, "The Grants maybe stealing this show, but they ain't stealin' a point!" He refused to budge as the boos crescendoed, but neither Karen nor Olivia seemed fazed as they hugged and parted ways.

"Mom didn't grow up on a farm. How is she supposed to know all this?" Jerry grumbled backstage.

"That might be the message - to highlight her inexperience..." Fitz said softly.

"You think someone would pull sneaky shit like that?"

"Hell yeah."

During the ad break, the audience calmed down when the production crew tossed T-shirts, caps, and other show paraphernalia into the crowd.

Then it was time for the next event - to pin a tail on a cardboard elephant. Olivia managed to pin the tail first, with help from the audience. Sally, confused by all the yelling, pinned the tail on the elephant's trunk.

"Grant wins the game! No, wait… we've got another event? Sorry, folks, getting ahead of myself. We still have one more event to go!"

Olivia decided to let Sally win the next one - which turned out to be Tug-of-War - even before the rope was placed between them. But she continue the charade for a bit, and was about to let go of the rope so Sally landed on her backside, when another pair of hands grabbed the rope behind her and Jerry gritted, "Don't you dare, Mom!"

Instantly, Sally released the rope. "Olivia, you're cheating again!"

"No, she's not!" Jerry yelled back. "You're heavier than Mom! You have an unfair advantage over her!"

"The kid's right. The Langston woman is heavier than Olivia."

"But Olivia Grant is younger!"

The host put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, cutting through the arguments breaking out in the audience. "The final verdict is in! I do declare you are both winners!" He reached for their hands and held them up in the air, like they were prize fighters in a championship boxing match. The audience continued to yell at each other...

World News…

'…Security was called in to break up a fight on the set of a popular American game show, after one guest accused the other of cheating. The guests in question - Republican election hopefuls Mrs Sally Langston and Mrs Olivia Pope-Grant - were taking part in a Tug-of-War which descended into a War of Words. According to our sources, it all began when the Grant children joined Mom, to help her win. A move that didn't go down well with Mrs Langston who accused Mrs Pope-Grant of cheating. A spokesperson for the Republican Party, said the argy-bargy was all in good fun but is the honeymoon over? That will be the topic of discussion on Tony on Insight Politics tomorrow morning…'

Back at the hotel…

Olivia had been standing in the shower, eyes closed, listening to the water hitting her shower cap, when she heard the door slide open and felt herself be gathered in a warm hug.

Fitz kissed her gently. "Jerry's right, isn't he? You were going to let Sally win."

Olivia sighed. "I felt sorry for her. I have you and the kids, and she's…alone."

Fitz stared at her for a long moment, his face softening. "Liv, you didn't choose her life. She did."

"I know."

"But…"

"I wanted her to win… at something."

Fitz turned off the tap, reached for a towel to wrap around Olivia before picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom, tossing the shower cap off as he went.

At another hotel…

Sally Langston smoothed an imaginary crease on her red silk dress, checked her hair was not out of place, and retouched her lipstick.

There was a tentative knock on the door. "Ready, Mrs Langston?"

Camera, lights, action. Sally smiled to herself. Now the real show would begin. She opened the door and walked into the sitting room of her hotel suite.

A young man in ripped jeans and a Death Star T-shirt smiled nervously. "Thank you for letting me be part of your campaign, Mrs Langston. I'll be voting for the first time in this election."

"We're counting on you," Sally patted his arm. "We need every vote to make the best women win."

The man fidgeted. "Um... you'd think Republican politicians would make it easier for college students to vote, but they are shutting down college voting booths in a lot of swing states."

Sally paused in the act of checking the audio and video equipment set up in front of a gold-embroidered brocade armchair. "I have some classified information that I will share with you. Edison Davis – the Democratic candidate – has a very unfair advantage in this election. There are people, very powerful people who want him to win at all cost."

"The Illuminati?" He said in a hushed tone.

"I can't name names. But it's a well-known fact that college students vote Democrat, and all we want is to level the score."

The young man stared at her, then he turned to the equipment. "I've set it up so you can record your message at the press of this button by remote. But if you're not sure, I can stay back and help."

"I can assure you, I'll be fine. I will leave everything with the hotel manager for you to collect tomorrow morning."

Thanking her, the man left.

Sally waited a few minutes after the door had closed behind him before she reached for the hotel phone and told the desk, "Please have the courier ready to collect the package in ten minutes."

Then she walked backed to the brocade armchair, took a seat in front of the camera, hit the record button on the remote and began speaking…

"Why can't I go?" Jerry asked when Olivia and Fitz came to kiss the kids goodnight, and to check if Rowan and Felicia needed anything.

"It's an adults only party," Fitz explained.

"I'm nearly an adult."

"'Nearly' is not adult."

"I could pretend to be Huck or Tom."

"No," both men said in unison as they waited for Olivia and Fitz, outside the main door.

"Goodnight," Olivia gave Jerry a kiss on the cheek. "You're in charge."

"As deputy," Rowan added.

"You guys are no fun."

"Yep, greatest party-poopers in town." Fitz agreed.

Sally handed the package to a bellboy to take down to reception.

The courier came through the service entrance, as Sally left through the front doors held open by a couple of doormen, heading for a waiting limousine.

"I don't want to be late," Sally told the driver, who helped her into the backseat.

"We won't be, ma'am."

"We're going to be late," Tom said.

"Not if I can help it!" Huck careened around a corner, narrowly missing a fire hydrant.

"Better late than dead," Fitz whispered in Olivia's ear, as he held tightly onto her.

"Huck! Slow down! We don't want the cops after us!"

"Smile," Abby hissed. "We have to look the part of two single ladies on a night out."

"At a Marina bar and lounge."

"Hey, all the rich guys hang out here."

"Rich old guys and their young lovers."

"Have you been here before?"

"Abby!"

"What? It's a genuine question!"

Minutes later, as Huck parked in front of the marina, Olivia got a call.

"Where are you?"

"We're parking the car."

"I'm on the boat. We're waiting for you to get the party started."

"That must be the boat," Fitz gestured towards a superyacht sparkling in the distant waters, the sound of music drifting towards them.

"Looks like the party has already started," Olivia muttered.

On one of the piers, a motorboat was waiting to take them to the yacht. At the gangway, the security guards on the dock stopped Huck and Tom. "Our instructions are to let Mrs Olivia Pope-Grant and Mr Fitzgerald Grant onboard. No one else."

"We go where they go." Huck jutted his chin.

"If we don't go, they don't go," Tom delivered in a milder tone.

One of the guards stepped away to check on his phone, then walked back and nodded at the others.

Rowan walked into the sitting room to find Jerry seated in front of the chessboard.

"Feel like a game?"

Jerry shook his head. "I can't sleep."

"Me neither."

"It's big bad world out there, Grandpa Pope."

"I know, Jerry, but if you want your Mom to go back to the White House, you have to let her handle things her own way."

Jerry let out a noisy sigh.

"Come on," Rowan gave him a wry smile. "Let's watch the news. There's sure to be some disaster that will take your mind off this campaign."

"Sounds like a massive party," Fitz didn't sound enthusiastic, as they drew near the huge boat. "Sally said there'd only be a handful of guests."

"I'm surprised Sally is in the mood for all this," Olivia said slowly, seeing a woman in a red dress waiving at them from the bridge deck.

"She did say she wanted to surprise you. Looks like the surprises will keep on rolling," Fitz murmured, as the motorboat, or tender, swept into a floodable marina at the stern of the yacht.

The tender sped away after dropping them off. "Someone's in a hurry." Tom watched the motorboat race through the water.

"Something doesn't feel right," Huck said softly.

"I was thinking the same thing," Olivia agreed.

When they made their way to the main deck where they'd seen Sally waving, but it was deserted.

"Helipad, basketball court, swimming pool but no guests."

"Or crew."

"Where's the host?"

"With Sally?"

"Where's Sally?"

As if on cue, Olivia's phone rang. It was Sally.

"We're waiting for you in the cinema. I made a video that I'd like to present to our host and his guests who have donated very generously to our campaign."

Following Sally's directions, they entered the large cinema which was in darkness except for a spotlight on a red-headed woman seated in front. As they entered, she stood up in her red dress, turned and smiled.

Rowan was dozing in front of the television - two talking heads discussing the latest polling results, playing on screen - when an interruption brought him sharply awake.

"…we interrupt this program, to report the tragic news that Republican Presidential hopeful, Mrs Sally Langston, and her vice-Presidential nominee, Mrs Olivia Pope-Grant, are missing. The two women, and Mr Fitzgerald Grant were onboard a luxury superyacht owned by a Russian businessman, when it exploded on the high seas. Texas water police report that no survivors have been found among the debris…"

Rowan quickly switched off the television, but it was too late, Jerry had woken up at the opposite end of the couch. Then hearing a sound behind them, he turned to see Karen standing in the doorway to her room. She began to sob...

A/N : Thank you for your kind reviews, and thank you also for your well wishes. I hope you all are staying safe and well. These are dangerous times, not only do we have lunatics in politics but also a deadly virus.

References for this chapter -

Uyghur Human Rights Policy Act (Wikipedia) – thank you, Clio for the question.

Xinjiang conflict (Wikipedia)

Migrant farm workers still face issues in Iowa (wcfcourier dot com)

Iowa farmers: $1.3 billion in subsidies (The Gazette)

Column: Iowa's handout to Apple illustrates the folly of corporate welfare deals (LA Times)

How migrant workers pay taxes (koat)

China's $900 billion New Silk Road. What you need to know (World Economic Forum)