Bang! Bang! {Part XIII}
"You better hurry up because I plan on using up all the hot water and today's schedule is exhausting," Olivia calls over her shoulder. The steam from the shower creates a cloud around her body reaching up to her shoulders.
Fitz pulls open the glass door and reaches her in one giant stride."God…you are beautiful," his astonished voice proclaims. I still cannot believe this my reality. She turns to face him and he slides his large hand down her slippery body until he reaches his favorite destination…her juicy folds. He leisurely explores his playground and watches her eyes roll to the back of her head. He bites down on the tender skin of her neck.
Liv's wet hand reaches down and strokes him twice before guiding him to push in to her quivering center. He lifts her up entering the warm tight space reserved just for him. "Yes," she exhales. "I need all of you," she gasps before rising up and grinding down setting a sensuous pace.
Karen adjusts the tablet to live stream Fox News setting the volume on low. Gerry hands Teddy a honey covered biscuit. "How much time do we have?" he questions.
She takes her seat and makes air quotes, "The shower is still running," her face distorts in disgust.
"So at least forty-five minutes," he nods, "What is happening?"
"Not too much…different interviews with different governors. No sign of her yet. Maybe she won't do the interview since we cannot be there. We aren't doing it on purpose," she shares.
"She will not see it that way. You are either with her or against her. You have study group and I am not disappointing my tutor group," he replies.
Karen looks at her brother with new eyes, "Those kids are that important to you?"
"Hell yeah…they are freakin' amazing with nothing. No one really believes they can make it but Rashad," he explains.
"Soon to be valedictorian-Rashad," she confirms. "I still cannot believe you two are friends."
Gerry nods, "After he handed me my ass; which I completely deserved, I decided to take Dad's advice and listen. He is on scholarship…takes two buses to school…puts up with racist brats and snobs all day. If he makes time for these kids I damn sure better."
Their conversation is interrupted by Steve Doocy's voice, "We are pleased to welcome our forever First Lady Mellie Vaughn," he introduces the segment.
"Shit…Fuck," they utter at the same time.
Baby Teddy responds, "Yea," clapping his sticky hands together.
Fitz hands rest on Olivia hips while she completes his Windsor knot and adjusts the dimple of his tie. "Okay Mister…what is your goal today with the Governor's Summit?" she looks up with a loving smile.
"Make sure they are with me on the domestic spending budget to force the congressional vote," he responds dutifully.
"Right…and what do we not talk about?" she continues to question.
"Foreign policy…specifically what I should be doing about our soldiers still held hostage. No matter how badly those neophytes need to be schooled," he replies.
"Exactly, because they do not get free press from the biggest, baddest man in the game. If they want to debate…file the forms…declare their candidacy and step into the arena," she states with passion.
"Damn straight," he smacks her ass.
They move into the living room gathering files and policy papers. "Gerry, Karen…you ready to go?" Fitz calls out not looking up.
They walk into the room slowly, "Uh-huh...Uhm…can we talk to you guys?" Gerry introduces.
Olivia responds, "What's up? Did you get breakfast," she raises her head to look them in the eye. Her gut tightens. Something is wrong…really wrong. She nudges Fitz with her elbow.
He looks over at her before turning his head toward the teenagers. "School?" he questions. They shake their head. "Money?" They continue to shake their heads. He sighs, "Your mother."
They nod and focus on their feet. Olivia retrieves her phone, "Harrison…I need a Mellie update with at least three counter punch options," she hangs up. She observes their slumped shoulders and pained expressions. "Do not worry…It's handled."
The President of the United States enters the Treaty Room to meet with the Chairpersons from the Democratic and Republican Governor's Associations as well as their leadership counterparts in the House and the Senate. "Ladies and Gentleman, so glad to meet with you this afternoon," he greets shaking hands before taking a seat. "I invited the pool reporter and photographers to join us for the first fifteen minutes," he explains. Each politician turns and smiles toward the small, bare bones journalist crew. Fitz speaks to the room, "Our goal for our session is to reach consensus on domestic spending. I reviewed the proposals from the House and Senate but as a former Governor I know the state perspective can only improve the final legislation."
All the elected officials from the Democratic-side of the aisle nod in agreement. The Republican officials do not respond. Finally the RGA chairperson speaks, "I have a different goal…one with greater significance. I recommend that we discuss how Governors can order the deployment of their National Guard to rescue our soldiers still being held hostage," the Governor of California throws the meeting into chaos.
The cameras flashes increase and the pool reporters begin shouting questions:
Have military operations been authorized? How many troops are being requested? Has new intelligence been recovered? Mr. President when were you planning to inform the American People?
Fitz eyes narrow to slits. He takes in his longtime former political partner. He wants a shot at varsity. I hope he's wearing a cup. He nods, "I understand the sentiment. Any patriotic American wants our men and women in uniform home safe. Unfortunately, to have that conversation a minimum level security clearance is required. The governors would have to be excused; thus, you do not meet the qualification to participate in the discussion. Further, swift military action requires weeks of planning to verify the intelligence, practice operations and coordinate the logistics of equipment and resources. Governor Nichols, I appreciate the enthusiasm; however, you cannot compare the executive orders you sign deploying the California National Guard as part of emergency services for earthquakes and wild fires to what I execute as Commander-in-Chief of the finest military the world has ever known," he responds with a challenging tilt of his head.
The tension in the room rises and every participant looks and waits for Gov. Nichols response. "So the country is supposed to wait while you focus on raising our taxes and planning your wedding," he snaps back. I have got to get him on his heels.
Fitz jaw tightens before he smiles, "Not at all. If we can return to the focus of this meeting I will explain during the final press conference to the citizens that I was voted to represent how the tax increase will increase the operational capabilities of the armed forces so that they have the best equipment and resources to bring our soldiers home. As far as my wedding to the love of my life…most people in the know are aware the date has been postponed until this international crisis is resolved." He turns to the other meeting participants, "Is everyone ready to get to work?"
Early evening
Laura Ingraham's staff rushes around the studio preparing for the exclusive with the former first lady. Mellie waits patiently at the anchor desk for the make-up artist to finish dusting her face and the production assistant to finish attaching her microphone pack. She runs through her talking points in her head: create doubt about the administration's foreign policy. She is interrupted by the host, "Mellie, I am sorry but our interview is cancelled."
Mellie's eyes widen slightly, "Cancelled…I do not understand. I spoke with your producer at length to make myself available. I was told you were interested in my inside perspective," she pushes.
"I was…I still am; however, when the President decides to offer an unscheduled press conference every network participates in the simultaneous broadcast. I am sure we can find another day or time if our interview still has relevance once we hear what POTUS has to say. I do apologize…I am needed for a panel at the anchor desk," she offers before exiting the studio.
Late night
Cyrus' red face stares at the two defeated political buffoons seated in his study. He takes a deep breath before he begins a monologue that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt will turn into a rage induced rant. "I gave you each specific tasks…simple…basic political brawl tactics and you both failed. Mellie, you have a brand…Southern belle…maternal…Harvard Law graduate. Yet, you could not get your own children to participate in one interview. You compound that failure by completing the interview alone which only invites the question of why your children are never with you even when you are in Washington, D.C." He shifts his eyes to Nichols. "And your dumb ass challenges the Leader of the Free World in the White House in front of reporters which allows him to point out everything you do not know about the job and further how your role as a governor has left you ill prepared for the Oval," his voice raises.
Andrew and Mellie stammer over each other trying to defend their actions, "I used the pre-scheduled interview to demonstrate my policy positions and my political skill," she defends.
"And by confronting him I gave other politicians the opportunity to challenge his inaction as well."
"Did any of that work? No, Grant made you his bitch," he points to the person on the right. "And your insight," he uses air quotes, "Were the standard GOP responses every other talking head provides. "Thanks to the both of you we took ten steps back."
Freshly showered Fitz lays sprawled on his stomach with Olivia tucked tight against his back. Her fingers rake through his curls slightly scratching his scalp releasing all the stress and tension he accumulated during the day. "The good news is we know who the other primary challenger will be," he finally speaks.
"The bad news is she is going to make this as difficult as possible for the kids. Hopefully, the warning shot of their joint interview in tomorrow's Washington Post will give her pause," she responds.
He rises up slightly and opens one eye and looks over his shoulder. Really…
Olivia laughs, "Don't ask me why I said that…the article will cause her to retreat for the time being," she clarifies. "Smart move with the evening press conference to announce the successful legislation; Nichols looked like he was passing kidney stones standing next to you."
"Yeah, that was a bonus. The important part was blocking her additional media appearance." The ringing phone breaks their conversation. He reaches over, "This is POTUS…the intelligence is confirmed…launch the operation…on our way to the Situation Room," he hangs up.
Liv rolls off his back and grabs her cell, "Abby…move the press briefing up one hour. Our soldiers are coming home."
