Author´s note: Hello everyone, thanks fort he reading, the reviewing, the liking. :) My muses felt on a rampage today, so here´s an update I feel reeeeally rather good about, mwahahaha. Have fun.

Reneeharris49: Well, I´ll take that as a compliment, because I think making the emotions real is what makes a good story and I am glad to see it works for you. :) Yep, yep, Mellie again. Let´s see where this chapter takes her. ;)

Umusarah: Half sorry half thrilled here to cause you heartache. ;) Thanks for the reviews and yes, there are quite a few issues for them to deal with. Let´s see if this chapter gets them started on that…

Jennkyle: Heh, nope, I´d not want to be in Mellie´s shoes either. Thanks for the wishes, I had a good weekend. :)

IAMSCANDALLOVER:Thanks a lot for the compliment. :) Whereas I did enjoy season 3, I can still see where you are coming from. I am trying to give the characters the depth of emotions that I think they deserve but while I am writing often find that too many things in season three went unexplained with regards to the characters´ reactions and actions. Hope you´ll keep enjoying this. :)

Clio1792: Yes, and I think somewhere, somehow they do realize the "us", it´s just difficult for her to see through all the wreckage. Hehe, I sense some criticism in fixcal irresponsibility in this review. I am sure the Republican in Fitz would be aghast. ;) Thanks for your thoughts and review. :)

Cleo: Hehe, yes it is and they will need some time for this…Hope you´ll like where this chapter goes. ;)

Guest: I am not sure how this review relates to the chapter… help me out there?

Jourdan: Well, thank you. :) I really hope you´ll like the new chapter, great to see readers enjoying themselves. :)

LoreneMichelle: Yes, I am sure she did turn to Jake. Because that´s what the show suggested which makes writing a season 4 idea kind of tricky because you have a lot of stuff to sort out, thank you Scandal writers. :P Hope you´ll keep enjoying. Thanks for the review. :)

Chapter 17 - Control

„Mellie…"

The word was barely more than a whisper, a breathed mutter of realisation as he looked up at her, his head starting to spin in the direction it had just managed to steer away from when he had held her, his Livvie, in his arms, minutes ago. What the hell…?!

The evening had taken several turns for the better, the worse and the painful, mostly the painful. First he had once more found that, despite his stubborn insistence that it wasn´t so, he didn´t have complete control over his emotions these days, because that was the only reason he could see in following Mellie, circumventing most of the Secret Service for that, because for that moment, back at the White House, after all that had happened and most after….that phone call…had happened, he had felt like he needed something, anything to save his dignity, any small victory to take out on someone. Andrew had seemed a perfect target. It would have felt so good…

And then there had been her…the woman he wanted to see most and least of all, who had once more torn his heart in two by just simply appearing out of nowhere it seemed and the confusion, the painful joy of seeing her again had clouded his understanding of what was going on, so he had been unable to make the connection between Liv´s presence at the hotel and Mellie´s. It had not mattered all of a sudden why Liv was back, only that she was. It had not mattered how much it hurt to see her, to hold her, to talk to shout at her, to fling at her all the things that had been stuck in his throat and heart ever since she had left…that she had left him when he needed her most, that she had been cruel, that it had hurt to realize she was with…Jake…and all those unspoken, unuttered things that had driven him to the brink of insanity on top of losing his own flesh and blood mere weeks ago…no, none of that had mattered, he noticed, because even arguing with her meant that she was there. Even though she had said she doubted there was something such as them, even though she had this weird notion of needing to fix things in the strangest ways possible when it was about them. Oh he could understand her, partly he could. Her need for perfection and order, her longing…but he had begun to doubt over the last weeks whether she still returned his feelings the way he knew she used to. And this evening, talking to her, had not given him the reassurance he had needed. It had soothed him, but not healed him, leaving the thorn, the tormenting question why she had come back. Why now? Why play this game or was she even playing games? It wasn´t her to play games. Not with him. She wasn´t Mellie.

And then, all of a sudden, the conversation had taken an even stranger turn when she had connected the dots, when she had understood that he had not come for her, but for Mellie, even though it wasn´t so. He hadn´t come here for Mellie, he had come here for his pride, to restore some sanity and take back some power that others had so often suggested had been slipping from him, drained from him. For a moment, staring at Liv, he had not understood her sudden bewilderment and the pain in her eyes and then it had clicked. She believed that in the time she had been away there had been renewed bonds between him and his wife…maybe through the shared grief, maybe through the now open trauma of rape between them…It made sense, that fear, and at the same time it felt like an insult for all they were, for all he and Livvie were and had ever been; this crazy, dangerous, insane, completely twisted problematic and wonderful love. But before he had been able to wrap his thoughts around this delicate insult, she had jumped up, drawing her own conclusions about his presence, obviously believing he had bonded with his wife again. Seconds later there had been the photograph. He had never seen it before but he had realized at once what it was. And her words had provided the rest.

"I…came back because I realized I was selfish when I…when I saw this. But … it was not just a cruel joke to send me these. The person who sent them wanted me to come back. And I can tell it wasn´t because that person likes me too much to have me be away."

"Mellie…"

The pieces fell into place, making his blood rage. How could she, why would she…? But it was so, so Mellie. The things she had flung at Liv, the times he had been standing between the fronts while Mellie would probably have wanted nothing more than attack, destroy…blinded by her own twisted, weird notion of loyalty and marriage that meant all the glory for her but none but that, it seemed… yet still…when she had needed Olivia, she had been all soft words and cooing and smiles. When she had needed Olivia she had known how to use her…and she had used him as a bait to make her come back. To make her…function. So that she wouldn´t have to appear to the world as the First Lady of a powerless presidet. Power…the word drifted through his mind. That woman would sacrifice anything for power. He got up. Liv followed him with her eyes, her gaze flickering.

"Fitz…?"

"I need to leave." His words were tense and it pained him to see she took this entirely against herself as she got up, eyes now nearly panicking. "Fitz I didn´t mean to…"

He held up a hand, touched her shoulder, she froze. How could he make her understand, he wondered. How could he make her understand that these two women were driving him insane, that he was mad at both, but that he was so much more mad at his wife? Because he didn´t quite feel like letting her in on all his feelings, feeling he needed to keep some to himself to…protect himself. He felt so hurt.

"Please Fitz I…don´t leave…"

They both knew this was a strange thing to say. This was a middle class hotel, there was only one agent outside and he was the leader of the free world. He couldn´t just decide to go wherever he wanted…but the words were more than that. Please don´t leave from my life was what she said. Please don´t turn your back on me. I am scared to never see you alone again If you step through that door. He couldn´t bear the pain in her eyes, it nearly choked him. He opened his mouth, closed it again. "I…I need some time, Livvie." His voice sounded hoarse, almost helpless. "I…give me some time."

She was close to tears, so afraid he could tell, nearly shaking and, confused, hurt and mad as he was he could still not fight that protective instinct and once more closed the distance between them, hugged her close, pressed his eyes shut as if to try and …he didn´t know. Comfort? Soothe? Reassure himself? When he broke the embrace, he saw she was crying. He could feel his eyes sting. He was not in control of himself. He should set things in order, one by one, sort things out more rationally than he was able to but..couldn´t. Affection, he could feel, affection for her, was sweeping wildly over the anger he felt for her…drowning out, almost, the more intense anger he felt for Mellie. But that anger was there…it needed to be dealt with before anything else. He felt himself reach out and gently wipe away her tears with his thumb. He could tell she was biting her lip not to sob. "Give me time." He said. It seemed almost a mantra that he kept repeating, reminding himself of what he needed right now. Time. Time to think and get his world in order. Time to deal with things. "Give me time, sweet baby…." It seemed almost like whispering sweet nothings to soothe both him and her but knew these words meant so much more to her, to them. He knew he had to leave, leave now or plunge himself into an even greater mess. The way she was looking at him was threatening to break him so he broke eye contact and looked down where he was still clutching the photograph. "I need to borrow this…" he said, dully. She only nodded.

His thoughts were in a blur when he left, affection staying in the room with her, rage taking over as soon as he left, taking long strides that made his agent hurry to catch up.

Mellie had returned to the White House in a mix of emotions, but deciding with that strange ability to appear upbeat and sweep bad things under her emotional carpet, to feel good about this evening. What had she expected from that woman anyway? Surely not a welcome with open arms. Olivia Pope, despite her pretending so, had never understood the finer workings of power and sacrifice, of compromise and smiling at those that could be useful for you. So she had been yelled at, but she had yelled herself but in the end, Melody Grant was sure, it was Olivia who had had the shorter end of the evening. It didn´t seem like she was on too good footing with her friends these days, because as Mellie knew, she had left all of a sudden, giving them a heads up (something Fitz had never gotten but yet she claimed she loved him?!) but no more than that. Stating the facts and leaving, what a selfish thing to do… Therefore, she was certain that Olivia Pope´s return to DC was to be a bumpy ride. Friends mad at her and, as her sources told her, that little agency of hers on the brink of dismantling. Plus, the woman had been in a foul mood which might mean one thing: Olivia being back surely meant that no matter how desperately low and hurt Fitz felt..if he knew, they would have talked already, over the phone. Suddenly Fitz snapping at the Joint Chiefs made sense, quite some.

Sitting on a comfortable sofa in the east sitting room, facing the big, round window, Mellie smiled. That call could not have gone well. It would explain why his whore had not indulged in any proud, smug talk but nearly literally kicked her old. Oh yes, if things were bad, they be bad, but they better be worse between her man and that whore. All in all, a painful day but it could have gone much worse. Fitz was probably in his private study or down in the Oval, mulling over things like he should and hopefully, finally putting an end to this strange infatuation of his once and for all. A few scratches were a small price if this affair could finally be put to rest, if he finally got it out of her system. Where would this man be without her to realize this whore was no good for him. A distraction, a whirlwind of unpredictability that had long enough destabilized a man that was hers, Mellie´s and that had more important things to do than sort out yet another emotional mess. Some people did not have any sense of reason…

Yes, Mellie decided, It felt good just sitting here, licking her wounds but knowing that this time she would come out of this victorious.

And suddenly, so inappropriate for that high, good feeling of victory…the bang of a door. She jumped, turned.

"Fitz!" She sounded reproachful, he had startled her and it made her angry. "Where have you been, what are you even wearing?" He looked upset as he strode in, never pausing, determined steps towards where she was sitting in a way that intimidated her, almost scared her. He was wearing jeans, a shirt, he must have changed clothes after dinner and….where the hell had he been?!e waFitzsdasdasd

He stepped close, then past, then, with a sudden move that made her wince slammed something smack on the small and (like everything in this place) expensive coffee table. "Care to explain this, Mellie?"

She opened her mouth, still mad at him startling here, just storming in like that, closed it, looked at whatever the hell he had brought in. It was a photograph she knew all too well. It didn´t shock her to see it. Or maybe, the shock was just drowned out by anger.

"Where did you get that?" she snapped.

"You know where." he bellowed back. He was in a bad mood, no preamble, just going from zero to full blown verbal attack. She could tell.

She could feel the taste of victory be ruined by the bitter taste of bile rising in her throat. "You went to see her?"

"Well, thanks to you, Mellie, you led me there!" Every single one of his words was yelled and she matched her volume to make herself understood, connecting the pieces. He had followed her after she had left the White House? That was…good, she supposed. Not what she had planned because all plans were best if Olivia Pope was at her controllable distance, but..still. He had followed her, he still cared for his wife! Before she could respond, he was at it again.

"What the hell did you do, Mellie? Nothing is sacred for you, isn't it?"

She got to her feet, anger almost blinding her. "How dare you turn this against me?" she snarled. "You know the pain I went through? I made this sacrifice for you, Fitz. Can you…can you imagine any wife in their right mind going to lengths to get her husband´s whore back? Because that´s what I did, Fitz. I got her back. For you. So you can finally fucking get your act together."

She had been unable to stop herself even though she had seen how his lips had tightened and his eyes had blazed when she called that woman her rightful name, the word he despised her using.

"It´s all about this for you isn´t it?" he yelled. "All about the power. How the fuck can you be so cold Mellie, wanting me to smile after we just lost our son!"

"That´s not what kept you from functioning" she snapped. "What broke you was not that and we both know it!"

The tension was feelable in the air, two wild cats circling one another. Surely, the Secret Service was once more trying to awkwardly ignore the shouting…

He got closer. "No.." he shook his head, almost quivering with anger and for a moment she thought he´d strike her but no. He never would, that had never been Fitz. He never got close enough fort hat, kept his distance, shaking, trembling. "You…" he breathed. "all you want is things to run smoothly and you´d leave corpses in your path to get that, Mellie. You…talk of sacrifice but nobody is safe from your thirst for power."

"How dare you…"

"Defiance." He said, no, growled, interrupting her. "And then Jerry. That´s what won us the election. Crime. And betrayal. And you. Keep. Using. People." Every word now was pressed out it seemed, his face red with anger.

"Me?" she exclaimed. "Using people? After all I´ve done for you. After all the…the suffering I took for you?" She was mad with rage by now. How dare he turn things on her like that?

"Oh don´t play that card, don´t you dare." he nearly stomped his foot. Such a child sometimes, it made her even more furious.

"This photo stands for all of that, Mellie. You using me to get her back so you can use her to make your crazy world normal again."

She shook her head. "You´re crazy, Fitz…you´re losing your mind…."

"No." he responded, the first word now not being yelled. "I´ve never been more clear in months, maybe years." He paused. "And speaking of using people….you remember?" He did a step closer, she shrunk back, almost against the window. "You remember that time when you made up a miscarriage to get sympathy points? Huh? Or that time when you had a baby to get another bump in the polls?" He raised his eyebrows at her. How dare he…how dare he suggest? She was so angry, so shocked she couldn´t even speak. "Because…a mother at home at night…one would expect her to be with her children. Maybe. Especially the one that´s still a toddler."

She shook her head. "Don´t you dare to bring the children into this…." Her voice was a dangerous snarl.

"Oh, like you, you mean." he said. "Like the time you threatened to leave with him. Like the times you used him for photo ops…" Fitz paused. "Like all the other times you left him with the nanny whenever he wasn´t convenient."

She felt angry and even more so, desperate. "Oh and you´ve been the perfect father?"

He shook his head. "No." he said. "But at least I never claimed I was." And with that he turned.

She could feel herself panicking, losing control. "Where are you going Fitz?" Her heart was beating fast, painful. She hated situations like these she noticed, situations where he was so damn unpredictable. He turned, raised an eyebrow at her. "The Oval." he said. "and unless you want me to turn your crappy scheme against you and leave, you´ll have moved into another bedroom when I´m back. I think I´ll be about two hours."

She just stared at him. "Oh, you wouldn´t" she snarled. "you would never just leave all of this, because no matter how weak you are at times, no matter how…childish, you need this. You need the power and you know it."

There it was again, that good feeling, that glorious feeling of triumph. She knew she was right and there she stood, head held high, waiting to read the realization of that truth in her eyes. But he, Fitzgerald Grant III just had the nerve, the impertinence to give her a childish smirk and a nonchalant shrug, his following words uttered in a brazen, infuriating calm: "Think you want to risk it? Watch me."