Author´s note: Things took a little longer this time but I´d guess a week to 10 days are what will become a rule of thumb for posting new chapters. The summer break is over and work is full back, it won´t work any faster.

Najee 79: I didn´t know about them changing Mellie´s full name . Agree on some of your observations here, they did change her around quite a bit, changing the potential she had into something more restricted even though I never really liked her. Brilliantly played but gah, the charater… On Fitz going harder on Cyrus: I wanted to create a contrast with regards to the Mellie scene in the chapter before this one. He yelled at Mellie so I decided he might be in the mood to turn on Cy in a different way mainly by showing traces of the same kind of sarcasm ad devil may care that Cyrus sometimes adapts when he is really annoyed with something.

Cleo: I felt it was time Fitz was acting up too, yes. On just walking into the Oval: I guess that´s not possible and I am aware of the dilemma but just assumed Cy would already have gained so much power that he´d be able to do that instead of spending chapter time on him needing to get through because if he can just do that he´d seem more powerful and menacing to Fitz who would then be given a nicer moment to shine while putting the manipulator in his face. But yep, seeing that the Secret Service would be pretty intense, I totally see your point. ;)

Jourdan: Thanks. And here you go. Enjoy. :)

Clio1792: I actually spent some time wondering, originally wanting him to get out and item that maybe he got for her just like she got him the flag pin but I couldn´t think of anything non cheesy yet significant. Thanks for the review. :)

Jennkyle: I´d pay to see their faces there. Let´s home something like this makes it into season 4 ;)

Sdia75: Again, lots of thanks for the interesting and detailed reviews and remarks. :) Oh they do have tons of chemistry. Interestingly or logically, this makes them really easy to write together. I can btw totally understand Fitz´ point of view as well. On things left unexplained on season 3: Some of the things characters did seemed to come out of the blue to me such as Olivia leaving in the end and some other things, i´d have to rewatch some to be able to say much more on this, but I sometimes felt there was a bit of a lack on exploring emotions and making them logical. Same goes for the whole Jake / Liv thing.

Laura: Thanks you very much for your kind words :) I thought so too, which is what inspired this fic, all the open endings and unconnected threads. I btw really like reading stuff like that someone just read the whole thing in one sitting. Thanks a lot for that. :) And I btw would have sent you a mail to tell you you´d have to wait a few days for the next chapter buuuut I couldn´t since you don´t have an account here. But here you go anyways, enjoy. :)

Casbru: Since I aim for a realistic depiction of emotions, I really take this as a compliment. Thank you. :)

Umusarah: Nope, he´s not in a joking mood there at all and that´s what makes it fun to write these chapters. Thanks for your nice words once more. Keep enjoying. :)

LoreneMichelle41: I cannot forsee all his actions in this fic, but I do not think he will. :)

Missy: Thank you very much, hope you´ll enjoy this chapter as well. :)

Chapter 19 – Off radar

She had given up on sleep hours ago, practically right after Fitz had left. She had taken a shower and then pretty much curled up in a somewhat miserable looking ball on her hotel bed, the television set left on more for comfort than for entertainment or a source of information, the news playing on a low volume while her mind was going this direction and that. She had tried to distract herself with it, but not only did the images of gun wielding masked men on pickup trucks, fighters of ISIS advancing further inland into Iraq, not exactly make for relaxing entertainment but also was it always easy to connect everything world news back to who she was trying to divert her thoughts from: Fitz. It made her wonder how he was handling this and whether her return and the forshadowing and aftermath had affected his way to deal with the crisis which at once plunged her back into the abyss of wondering whether it had been wise to come back. It had felt good, so good, to be in his embrace again, the familiar smell that was him, soothing, comforting despite all the things left unsaid, but didn´t the news just confirm what she had fled from? That her even being around him disrupted the usually calm, thoughtful force that was Fitzgerald Grant? That her being around him threw the man off balance which was an issue because he was not any man – he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But then again, hadn´t she vowed to herself earlier to stay away from such thoughts? Because somewhere, somehow there was the little girl in her, believing in harmony, hoping for the naïve dream of being with the man she loved and thinking away the wife, the presidency, B613 and everything else in her way and theirs. The little girl dreaming of a simple, perfect life with unfilled edges, unknown variables where so far it was just them that mattered.

Around four a.m. she switched off the television at last, noticing when she got ready for bed that she had immediately fallen into the old (sometimes reluctantly admitted) habit of having the phone Fitz had given her close at hand, on her nightstand. Glancing at it brought memories both fond and bitter, of nightly calls and closeness despite the distance and in that moment she yearned for the stupid thing to ring. There had been times where she had hated that phone and what it did to her, times where she had thrown it in the trash, where she had refused to answer it but right now all she wanted was for it to ring even though she knew it was unlikely. He had asked for time and she knew him well enough to be able to tell that he would possibly not call tonight. He had Mellie to deal with and it brought her an awkward satisfaction to know that this conversation would not be a cheerful one.

Somehow, somewhen her tired mind, exhausted from emotions and jetlag and pondering, found some uneasy sleep at last, sparing her more torment and when she woke up, her head pounding with a mild but unpleasant headache, she felt a little better even though the few hours of nightly sleep had brought her closer to a few unpleasant things at hand, things that would not be easy to deal with and first and foremost and that was what she had told herself she wanted and needed to do today was to confront her old friends at OPA…or who of them was left. That and find out what was going on with Harrison missing. She dressed in black slacks and a dark red pullover and took her coat and handbag with her to the hotel lobby, ready to face what would surely become a difficult day right after breakfast.

Entering the breakfast area which at this time of the day was inhabited by a few late risers only (it was really late for her standards, 9.30, but she allowed herself that due to the long flight), she spotted the very familiar face at once. He was sitting at the far end of the room, on a corner bench, back against the wall where he was able to survey the entire room. He didn´t raise his hand but she could tell he had spotted her as soon as she stepped in and she felt herself walk towards him and sat down, wondering whether or not to be surprised to see him here. But he had always been resourceful about these things…

"I guess I shouldn´t be surprised to see you here."

"Not at all. I was wondering what was happening."

"I just decided to come back, Dad."

She sat down on a chair opposite of him and placed her bag next to her on the floor, uncertain what to make of her father´s presence in this hotel. As she had said it didn´t really surprise her and it added one more person to the list that she´d have to deal with. On the upside however he was probably the only person who she´d not have to explain her absence to but quite the opposite – her presence.

Rowan Pope leant forward slightly, resting his upper body on his elbows as he interlinked his fingers, eyebrows raised in a slightly questioning way, head tilted to the side just a bit. "You were quite eager to leave." he said in that slightly reproachful way, not condescending, not quite, but the kind of tone he would use when he wanted to make her realize her own mistakes. "You know I was in favour of that. You know I think you´d have a shot at something healthier than this town…"

She looked straight at him, not feeling angry, not really, but determined to stand her ground. There had been a few too many fights the last 48 hours and with there being a lot more potentially around the next corner she was not intent on yet another. "Dad, I won´t discuss this with you."

"So what are your plans? You will just get back into your old routines and start where you left off?"

She gave the hint of a shrug. "It won´t be easy. I noticed my apartment is not exactly a place I can return to any more."

"When is it ever?" He ignored the reproach following her first remark and there was the trace of a smile on his face, but a wariness to it, like he was showing friendliness but not quite sure of it. She herself had a closer look at him. The last time she had seen him at the hospital, briefly after he had stubbornly dismissed himself from care. He was as stubborn as her…

"Dad, there are a few things I have to do. Things I have to do. On my own. I don´t want you to get involved."

"You cannot blame an old man looking out for a daughter."

"Look out is one thing. You know what I mean, did."

"I do." He lowered his head.

Silence fell. Liv wondered whether to get a coffee, noticing it was to get away to get some air to breathe, feeling her father´s presence at the same time constricting and strangely soothing. He was the first person not yelling at her. It gave her thoughts some rest. And they returned to her friends…halted…

"Dad?"

"Yes."

"A friend of mine has gone missing."

"Anyone I know or why would you tell me that?"

She leant back, gave him a long look. "Because I know you have your ways to get to know things. Just like you knew I was here. I thought maybe you could keep your eyes open. In case he hasn´t showed up yet. Maybe he had, maybe Harrison was already back. She was not the only one with secrets after all.

"Someone who work..s for me" she said, in the last second changing past to present tense. "Harrison Wright."

He frowned as if in thought. "You handsome black guy?" he then said with a wink

She gave him a look as if to warn him of remarks like that.

"29. Well dressed. Works for me."

"I think I remember him from when I was at your office. Bright guy."

"That´s the one."

"No, I wouldn´t know."

"Would you…"

"Yes."

A broken off sentence answered by a single word telling her about even though B613 had been dismantled old connections stayed. Making her think that if Harrison was truly gone and in trouble, her dad might be an asset to gather information. She herself was rather good at that too, not to forget.

"Thanks."

Once more silence fell. Silence during which Olivia wondered how to quickly leave. Her father had been the only she had trusted with her plans of running and leaving (apart from Jake but well…she had not exactly invited him) but she felt like there had been a lot of damage done. It was time she got to attempting to repair at least some of it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When Jake Ballard came to the first thing that came to his mind with a surprising clarity was that this was the second time in less than 24 hours that he had been knocked out deliberately. First the garage, the second time to pay for his remarks in front of Rowan Pope. When was the last time you checked, old man? After that Rowan had left the room, wordlessly, but not without giving the men behind Jake´s chair a curt nod. It had been all they needed. Rowan Pope did not like to get his hands dirty and there had not been any necessity for it. Not this time. Again.

Jake groaned as the headache set in, not slowly, but with the jabbing force of a bolt of lightning. He was curled up on the stone floor, a single pillar of dusty daylight shining in from above, veiled by bars. He could feel the coppery feel of blood on his tongue and lips and he could tell as well that the latter was swollen. He furthermore guessed that the blow that had probably knocked him off his chair and which was the last thing he remembered after minutes of "lighter" yet brutal punches aimed to hurt but not to let him pass out just yet had probably left an impressive cut on his forehead, just under his scalp. He could feel the dried blood even before, still groaning, he raised his right hand to examine the by now stickily dried up gash.

He tried to sit up. It was difficult. There was more than one spot on his body that was hurting furiously, protesting his feeble attempts to change position. The room was limited maybe a little more than a dozen square feet, more bordering on two if he was lucky… and judging by how his bones gave him hell he had been out cold on the hard, uncomfortable, chilly ground for quite a while.

"Hey!" No reply. He didn´t really expect any. There was nothing really that he could expect in all this mess. He had not planned to come back, he had planned to stay away, build a new life, get away from all the craziness and soul devouring commitment that had been B613... but it had not been his idea in the first place. It had been the idea of the very man who had had him beaten bloody only … what… hours? He hoped it was not days… ago. He remembered the phone call willingly.

"You know how things went, Jake. You know how things are. I feel good about her leaving, I feel less good about her doing so alone."

"I don´t think I have a place in this. I don´t think she´d want it."

"She needs someone."

"She told me she has someone."

"We shouldn´t debate on that." A pause. "There is no lack in means. There is a house and office building in Vienna and more than enough financial means to make a new start and a really good one at that. It´s an offer Jake and I´d like it if you took it. I sent you my ideas about a salary via email."

He had had it in front of him already, all the time. It had been what he had been focused on just like his mind was focused on the other man´s words and the possibility he offered, becoming more and more interesting by the moment. He didn´t trust Rowan. He would have been naïve too. He had already decided where the top secret folders would go to. He had arranged a delivery a few days from now and by then he´d have to be out of their reach. Rosen would not go public at once. He had a few weeks he figured until he´d have to worry for his own safety over there in Europe. And meanwhile the man he would betray would arrange for safe passage. His daughter was the cherry on top. A few weeks with her, then he´d have to get moving, go into hiding, make his own connection work to permanently change his identity. But step by step.

"I´ve seen it." He had said, still looking at the printout. "I am just not sure she´d accept my company."

"Try."

The phone call had ended there and hours later he had been over at Olivia´s office, confronting her. She had never asked how he knew of her plans to leave. She had not made it a big thing at all, but she had not asked which told him that she was in an emotionally fragile state. And things had worked according to plan. Rowan´s plan. And later, his. It had become more and more difficult then, in Vienna to get familiar with the though that this had just been the starting point, that eventually he´d have to move on, get safe, with or without her and the day they had had the argument over the photos he had not yet decided… so how in the world was it possible he was finding himself in all this again? Was it because part of him realsied that there was no escape from B613 after all? A part that wondered whether Rowan Pope still played a role in this which meant that if he was lucky he could still prevent this mess. The folders he had passed on to Rosen. Could still prevent the story from leaking before the connection was made? Of course that meant David Rosen was in the way, but he knew how to deal with such issues. Or was it because he had followed her back, quite simply. Because he loved her? Love was such an insanely complicated thing, he sometimes, quite often, wished he was unaffected by it, but was he? And why was he pondering such things, there was more important issues at hands right now than romance. Such as how to save his own skin.