Thank you all for the positive feedback. I normally don't write this kind of thing, so your words were extremely encouraging.

Chapter 2

"Dad?!" Olivia says in a way that's more of an exclamation than a question.

And there is that look that he gives her, the one that says, What have you gotten yourself into this time? But he knows. He knows too much and she does too. "I always told you one day you'd need me," Rowan says a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. So smug. So...knowing.

"I don't need you. I've never needed you," Olivia says as she reaches for the door handle and braces herself for the onslaught of press once she exits. She closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath and then another, her hand pulling oh so slowly at the door's latch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She lets go. Sits back, crossing her arms and feeling like that little girl he'd abandoned all those years ago. The one who was left all alone with that woman who reeked of the strange mixture of rubbing alcohol and spicy must, and later the streets because her father, the man who was supposed to love and protect her, had yet one more mission to complete.

She reached her breaking point, eventually. Tired of being left hidden in the shadows because with his job, he wasn't supposed to have a family. Left hidden because work was more important. Left hidden with a kind woman, a kind woman who patched up the damaged who came through her doors at all times of day and night, a kind woman who was not her mother.

"What do you want?"

"Is that any way to treat your father, who just saved you by the way."

"You didn't save me and I repeat my initial question, what do you want? We both know you never do anything unless there's something in it for you. Unless it can benefit you in some way. But we also both know destroying lives is what you do best."

The car lurches forward as the driver says, "Where to, sir?"

"The Compound."

The Compound, as Olivia understood it from her research, is the place where B613 secretly operates. Highly secure, highly secluded; the perfect place for Rowan to take her. They couldn't be traced by a novice, he'd make sure of it. But, she has someone who's better than a novice and the minute he realizes she's lost, Huck, she knows, will start looking for her and will find her.

"Are you taking me there so you can kill me?"

"Kill my own daughter? That would be a little extreme, even for me."

Olivia rolls her eyes.

"What's that for?"

"Because just last night, you sent someone to kill me. If it hadn't been for Jake-"

"Jake? Is that what he told you? He was there to save you?" She could hear the laughter beneath his voice. He always did that. Like he was smarter and she was just a naïve little girl who didn't understand anything. "I sent someone to bring you to me. He knew that. That's your problem, Olivia, you always see the best in people and I've told you time and time again, we're all bad. My question to you is why on earth would you believe someone who slept with you as part of a mission and lied to his Commander and Chief? You are smarter than that."

Olivia's mind begins to spin again, replaying the past several weeks in her mind. She and Jake bumped into each other at a coffee shop. Was he following her then? He worked for her father, and Fitz, was he playing both of them, and her too? How long was he watching her? Who is he? More importantly, why in the hell didn't she listen to her gut?

"We're here," says Rowan, pulling her from her thoughts.

The streets are lined with media trucks and reporters, clamoring for a glimpse of the "Presidential Mistress". Those words have replaced her name, one once so pristine, now soiled by the outing of their relationship. As Tom inches closer to OPA, Fitz recognizes the enormity of the situation. This isn't something she can solve alone, or her Gladiators can fix.

"Pull around back," Fitz says to Tom, "see if it's any better there."

It isn't. The entire building is surrounded. "What now, sir?"

This is all so wrong. He asks himself over and over what would Olivia do? "Go inside and get...Huck. Get Huck and tell him I'm out here."

Tom gets out of the car and walks toward OPA, ignoring screams for his attention from the press. He feels sorry for his boss. Finally, he was happy and the other shoe dropped. He climbs into the old elevator and nods his head toward the elevator operator.

"Where to?"

"Olivia Pope and Associates." The elevator operator sighs heavily. He's never known what they do, but nothing good is ever happening when people step foot in that office.

Tom steps off the elevator and looks around. Everyone is in motion, so distracted, no one notices him as he steps into the conference room. He stands there for a moment, taking it all in.

There's Quinn, typing furiously on her computer.

Harrison, telephone glued to his ear. "It's still going straight to voicemail."

Abby, studying a series of pictures taped to the window.

Huck, standing off to himself, hands behind his back, wide stance, frowning.

Tom clear his throat and everything stops instantly. Huck snaps out of his daze and looks Tom dead in the eye. "Which one of you is Huck?" Tom asks, knowing almost instinctually the very intense man standing off to himself is exactly who he's looking for.

"Me."

"I need you to come with me."

Harrison walks closer to Tom, invading his space as he appraises the stranger. "Look, I don't know who you are or where you came from, but we're dealing with an emergency, so whatever this is, whatever you need him for, is going to have to wait."

"It's okay. I'll go." Huck doesn't say another word as he walks past the other Associates and leads Tom to the elevator.

"What the hell was that about?" Abby asks, not really expecting an answer. She won't admit it, but Olivia and Huck's closeness bothers her. She knows it's silly, that they're all a team, but she's never been able to break through the impenetrable wall that is Olivia Pope.

Harrison too, feels this kind of distance between Huck and Olivia, and the rest of the Associates. Like Huck is on a higher plane and no matter what they do, no matter how hard they work or how many cases they help solve, they will never been as close to those two as they are to each other.

With Harrison though, it's different. He and Olivia go way back, way, way back and one would think he'd have the upper hand. That's not the case though and instead, he's treated like the little boy who doesn't need to know too much. She saved him all those years ago, more than once, but she'd never let him repay the favor.

Quinn is different. Quinn is just thankful that with the help of Olivia Pope, she's finally discovered who she is. Discovered how great she can be. So this whole thing with her name being leaked, her disappearance and now Huck being summoned to places unknown, has made her more determined to save her boss.

Huck slides into the car. He looks at the President. And waits.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know." Huck always knows where Olivia is. Long ago, he installed a tracking device on her phone for her own protection. He never had to use it until today, when no one could reach her. According to her phone, she is still at home. In reality, she has gone off the grid. "I thought she was with you, until I saw her on the news, leaving her apartment."

Fitz runs his fingers through his hair. There was a part of him that hoped her team had her hidden away somewhere safe, but he knew, deep down, that wasn't the case. He sighs heavily.

"I've been to all the places she may have gone. Made some calls. Nothing. We're trying to track down the car."

Fitz nods, not really hearing what Huck is saying.

"We're tracking her bank accounts. Credit cards. Nothing."

Fitz tries to focus; tries to think. Olivia wouldn't have just left him again, not like this. She's an expert at manipulating the media, so this is something she would face head-on. He lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Sir, there's something you should know."

"What is it?"

"B613, the program I worked for before I met Liv, the program that Charlie worked for, well, there was another guy. Jake Ballard, I saw him with Liv a couple of times. He was supposed to be protecting her and, I'm still looking into him, but he is a member of B613. He didn't know I was. I think the program may have something to do with her disappearance and if they do, we'd better find her fast."

Fitz nods as Tom turns and looks at him. It's the unspoken language they've developed over the years. It says, It's time to go. Fitz hurriedly writes down a phone number and gives it to Huck. "If you hear anything, if you need anything, call. That's my private number. I'll have some of my guys look into B613."

Olivia enters The Compound and looks around. It looks like someone's home. Nicely decorated, muted colors, peaceful. It's meant to give one a false sense of security. But, if you dig deeper, go through some of the secret passages, you'll find what's real. And if you find that thing that's real, uncover any secret, you'll likely never leave alive.

"Have a seat," Rowan instructs, as he pours each of them a glass of water. He measures it very carefully, as the mind games begin. Give her just enough to whet her whistle, talk to her until her voice is raspy, and the water is gone. Talk to her until she needs more, then withhold it until she gives him the answers he's seeking. She knows the game and knows how to play it well.

She stands. Arms folded across her chest. Hating him.

"Always so stubborn." He takes a seat and then looks up at her. "This is all your fault, you know. If you had just left him alone, this never would've happened. Now, we have to clean up your mess. How do you propose we do that?"

No response.

"Look, we're in the same boat here. You're exposed. Which could expose me and blow my entire operation."

No response.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice." Olivia remains rooted to the spot where she's standing, staring daggers into him. "The easy way, is to construct a different narrative. We find where the leak came from and destroy the source. And, we can change the narrative. Let's see, no, there was no affair. You were enamored with the President, made up some lies about having a relationship with him, lost sight of reality and we can get a doctor to corroborate the story. You were off your medication for some sort of personality disorder. We send you away for treatment and that's it. Now, it may destroy your career, but it saves your boyfriend's legacy. Or, we can do this the hard way and this time, we'll get the job done."

Olivia's eyes widen as the dots connect in her mind. B613 was the ultimate force behind the assassination attempt against Fitz.

"Yes, you're right," Rowan says, reading her thoughts. "Now, the choice is yours."

Cyrus paces back and forth in his office, sweating lightly from the exercise of thinking. This isn't what he bargained for. When he met Fitz, he saw someone who was, sure, a little rough around the edges, but someone who could be shaped, molded, convinced to do whatever necessary for the good of the republic. A kind of manchurian candidate for the "new" Republican Party.

That Fitz was long gone and it's taken awhile for Cyrus to realize it. The man he could control like a puppet is no longer his to control. It was as though an arrow had pierced his soul and this perfect politician, good looking, intelligent, charismatic, had lost his mind to love; lost his soul to Olivia Pope.

Olivia. She was his prized pupil. How many times had he told her that? They were exactly alike, he and Olivia. Unemotional. Anything for the job. Students of history, of political science, of the human condition. If he could be honest with himself, her one weakness is the ability to see the good in people and scratch away and peel back the layers until she gets that person to see the good in themselves too. Where he wants to control people, she wants to heal people.

Cyrus is not an honest man. Perhaps not even honorable. What he saw in Olivia Pope that day he saved her was her fight. There she was, this tiny girl of 13, carrying herself as though she were ten years older, telling that man, "Of course I'm legal." But, he saw through that. Saw her eyes, the fear; she wasn't a girl of the streets. Didn't belong there. Was new to it with her pristine black clothing, pressed slacks, spotless sneakers. She was a curious sight, and when he saw her, he couldn't turn away as he had so many times before. So, he grabbed her, pulled her along with him and told her to "Shut up and follow me," when she protested.

It was the beginning of their lifelong friendship. The day he began to mold her and create the perfect, symbiotic political mind. Beautiful, intelligent, charismatic. Soulless, or so he thought until she began showing signs of weakness. The weakness known to most as the human condition.

He is lost in his own thoughts when the door opens and Fitz appears. Looking rather haggard. Looking like hell. "Any word on the leaker?"

Cyrus shakes his head. "We're working on it. Right now, all we've got is an anonymous source."

"Anonymous source? Not an anonymous White House source?"

"No."

Fitz has that look that's familiar to Cyrus. The wheels are turning and they're now on the same page. Both having thought Mellie leaked the name, but without the words White House before "anonymous," it seems unlikely. Then again, Mellie can never be completely ruled out. She's clever. Fitz seems to switch gears. "Get me everything on B613."

"No, you don't need to know anything more about B613. No one does. You need to devise a plan to stop the bleeding. Have you even watched the news today?"

"No, nor do I care. You will get me everything on B613 and you will get it now."

Cyrus throws up his hands in defeat. The uncontrollable Fitz. The one who won't be manipulated. So, Cyrus will do as he's told. For now. As he picks up the phone, but turns to Fitz before dialing.

"What, Cyrus?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Cyrus dials a number as Fitz leaves, headed down the long, lonely hallway toward the Oval Office.