Olivia actually manages to sleep until six. She switches on the news while she brushes her teeth. Apparently sometime over night, Adam Carlisle finally arrived back in DC. There are several shots of him being bombarded outside of Reagan National by reporters. Olivia studies his face—handsome, Carlisle's age, sandy brown hair just beginning to go gray. He, like his son, looks like he hasn't slept at all. While taking a shower, she absently thinks about what sort of explanations she can give to the husband and son when the senator finally rejoins the land of the living.

Olivia takes a detour on her way to work, deciding to swing by Carlisle's house and scope out the situation. She parks on the far corner and observes the scene through binoculars. The police tape has been removed but there are still a couple of squad cars parked along the cul-de-sac. She can see no sign of either Adam or Lucas, though she knows that by now they'd both be home. She does, however, see three journalists skulking around in parked cars far less surreptitiously than she.

Quinn is already in the offices when Olivia gets there. The coffee maker is on and Olivia can smell bacon.

"You cooked?" she asks, finding Quinn in her own office typing away on her laptop.

"God, no. If the building is not on fire, you know I didn't cook. That was Becca."

"Becca," Olivia repeats, arching an eyebrow. "Quentin has been here all night?"

"She popped out for a few to get a couple of groceries. And to buy the senator another change of clothes, but she hasn't gone home, no."

Olivia moves further down the hallway to peer into Harrison's office. Carlisle is curled up on the couch, body nestled atop Quentin's reclining form. Quentin's eyes are open and she is stroking Carlisle's hair. The author catches Olivia in the window and wiggles her fingers in greeting. Next to her, Quinn sighs.

"They are so sweet."

Olivia agrees; she's developing diabetes. The fact that they are playing house is at once both troublesome and entirely adorable. "They can't stay here," Olivia murmurs. "Rosen could pop up at any time. Anyone could, really."

Quinn hums contemplatively. "They could use my apartment for the time being. I mean, I pretty much have been living here the past week."

"Hmm." The wheels in Olivia's mind are turning. "Anything new?"

"The senator's husband flew home from Maui. He got in about nine last night, went straight to the police station. Lucas came in via Amtrak and beat him by a few hours. Carlisle's parents are arriving from Buffalo today; wheels down at eleven-thirty."

"Good. Keep an eyeball on them. Anything new with the car?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Nothing as far as I know. Huck and Harrison were here late last night, combing through the footage."

Olivia's fingers twitch at her side. They're losing ground. She glances back at Carlisle and Quentin and decides to tackle this first. "If Carlisle isn't awake by the time the others show, wake her. We've got some things to discuss."

On her way to her office, Olivia pops into the kitchenette and steals a piece of bacon. When Abby, Huck and Harrison arrive, Olivia calls them, Quentin and Carlisle into the main board room.

"We're going to have to move you, Senator Carlisle," she begins without further ado.

Carlisle glances around the room. "I don't understand."

"The people investigating your case are thorough, Senator. One of them is very familiar with my methods and the way I handle my clients and he could show up here at any time. This was only intended to be a stopgap measure; we need to find somewhere off the grid for the next few days. Problem is," Olivia continues, leaning one hip against the edge of the table and folding her arms over her chest, "I don't know exactly where to put you."

Carlisle lowers her eyes, considering the problem. So does the rest of Olivia's staff.

"A hotel is out of the question," says Harrison. "Her picture has been all over the news. We can't risk someone recognizing her."

"And delightful David Rosen knows where we all live, so stashing her at any of our places is moot at this point," Abby points out. "Not unless we wanted to play hot potato with the senator."

"We need somewhere as safe as it is unknown," Quinn adds. "In case the blackmailer tries to attack her again."

"Should we take her out of the state?" Huck suggests. "I know a couple of people in Boston who can be trusted."

"I'm not leaving DC," Carlisle says with a shake of her head. "The vote is in—"

Harrison leads towards her. "Senator, I think it might be time to consider the fact that you might not be able to be here for the vote."

Carlisle lifts her chin. "I will be here, Mr. Wright. Blackmailer or no, I will be here."

Harrison gives Olivia a look. So much for being the charming one.

"Do you think Stephen and his wife could do it?" Abby asks. "God knows he owes us a few favors."

"Not secure enough." And Olivia didn't want to put Stephen in danger. He left, free and clear. She isn't going to drag him back.

Quinn twists to look back at Olivia. "The White House. Could your—connections there help?" Her voice is only a touch timid. Progress is progress, Olivia supposes.

"Anyone in the White House who could help has to go through the chief of staff," dismisses Olivia.

Quinn looks around hesitantly. "Isn't he your friend?"

"He's my arch nemesis, Quinn," Olivia says flatly.

The brunette blinks. "I'm confused."

"It's Thursday," Harrison says with a pat on her wrist.

"I've also got a man in Fairfax," interjects Huck. "Ex SEAL. It's not ideal, but he could keep her safe."

Carlisle buries her face in her hands and groans. "This is utterly ridiculous."

Quinn taps the table. "Maybe a hotel and we just smuggle her in. You know, hide her face like they do with celebrities."

"We can't risk it," Harrison insists. "We need—"

"Me." Everyone turns to look at Quentin, seated calmly next to Carlisle. "She could come to my house."

Silence. Olivia looks between them and shakes her head. "No."

"Why?" Quentin demands.

"I'm not putting you in danger," Carlisle tells the author firmly.

Olivia motions to Carlisle. "That, and your house is not secure."

"No one knows where I live, except my family, my agent and a few select friends. The information's never been published."

"That's not going to keep an enterprising individual from finding out," drawls Huck.

Olivia leans down on the table towards Quentin. "The blackmailer already knows that the two of you are involved. It isn't safe for you."

"Then how am I any safer with or without her there?" Quentin inquires and she's got Olivia there. She looks at Carlisle. "I'm already in danger just because I'm in those photos, but I haven't received any threats. This person doesn't want me, they want you. Let me help you, Linda." Quentin raises her eyes to Olivia before Carlisle can brook another protest. "Hire protection if you want to, search my home. But I think this could work and it's certainly the best option out of every one you all have presented thus far."

Olivia surveys the room. Her instinct tells her this is a bad idea for a myriad of reasons, not least of which is keeping Carlisle and Quentin together. But the suggestion has merit and it is the best option for the moment.

Pulling out a chair, Olivia lowers herself down to look levelly at Quentin. "Rebecca, if you do this, you become my client. You will have to do everything I tell you to and follow all of my instructions to the letter. No arguing."

Quentin gives a nod. "Understood."

"Before I say one way or another, I want a look at your house. Harrison and Abby are going to go over every inch of it to make sure it's safe." Olivia leans back. "Go pack. We'll be done in a few minutes."

Quentin has to take Carlisle's hand. The senator looks beyond troubled, but says nothing as they both exit the room. Harrison pulls the door closed behind them.

"I don't like this," he mutters.

"You think I do? We're coming up on twenty-four hours of nothing," Olivia snaps. She takes a cleansing breath. "The footage from the rental company. Anything?"

It looks like it kills him to do it, but Harrison shakes his head. "The quality is terrible. We cleaned it up as best we could but we can't make anything out beyond the fact that it's a man who jacked the car."

Olivia clenches her jaw and looks to Huck. "And the car?"

"Hasn't turned up yet," he says quietly. "Every license plate search, every traffic camera, toll booths—nothing. We only know that car hasn't left the state."

"Which means it could be on the road or at the bottom of the Potomac." Rage ignites her. Olivia stands, sets her hands on the table and sweeps the contents off if it in one, swift movement. Folders and paperwork and empty mugs of coffee go flying and clatter to the floor. Quinn flinches. "No mistakes, no more messages from the blackmailer! What the hell does he want from Carlisle?" The room is silent. Olivia doesn't look at her team. Instead, she reaches for her blazer. "To hell with it."

They watch her agitatedly do up the buttons. Abby speaks first. "Where are you going?"

"Our last good lead was that damn car and the footage from the rental company. Both have yielded nothing, so I'm trying a different angle."

"What angle?"

Olivia sweeps the hair out from under the collar of the jacket. "I'm going to see Cross."

Huck takes a jilted step forward. "Olivia—"

"This is not a good idea," Harrison interrupts.

"The meter's running and we've hit a dead end."

Abby shakes her head. "Liv—"

"You and Harrison are going to get Senator Carlisle and Quentin set up. You search that place from top to bottom, every nook and cranny, the perimeter—everything. I swear to god, if you get even the faintest sense that someone's been there or that there are eyes on the house, you bring them straight back here and we'll think of something else."

"Fine, but Cross—"

"Abby, don't argue with me. Go, I want them there before Carlisle's parents land." Olivia watches them leave, both visibly dragging their feet, before turning to Quinn. "You sit in front of those televisions, you make calls, you scour the Internet. Anything new about the family crops up, you call me, understood?"

Quinn nods rapidly and darts away, leaving Huck in the room with Olivia. She squares her shoulders.

"I'm coming with you," he says with an unusually definitive edge in his voice.

"No, Huck. No, you aren't."

"Cross is dangerous. He has a history of violence, and you approaching him alone…"

"I'm not planning on provoking him," Olivia says and on some level, she's certain that Huck knows she's lying to him. "I need a sense of him. We're running out of options, Huck."

"Let me come with you," he says, and now it sounds like pleading. Olivia shakes her head.

"I put Abby on the bench yesterday because she was compromised, Huck. Please don't make me do the same to you." She can see the line of Huck's jaw tense, but knows it's not from anger. She moves closer to him. "I went to Billy Chambers alone and that was an actual confrontation."

"It isn't the same thing," dismisses Huck.

"Why?"

"You know why," he says sharply, eyes burning. "Olivia, I'm asking you." Olivia remains silent. Huck stares her down but he's the first to lower his eyes. He does so with an almighty, defeated sigh. "Take my gun, at least."

"That…that, I will do."

"You keep your phone out," says Huck quietly. "You keep it out and keep me on speed dial. If you get a bad vibe, or if anything happens, you call me, Liv. I will come for you."

Olivia searches his face. She doesn't say anything because she doesn't need to; Huck knows. She squeezes his arm and nods towards his office.

When she's on the bridge crossing the Potomac, Olivia calls Cross's job.

"Joe & Joe Plumbing." The receptionist sounds more than a little busy.

"Yes, I was wondering if Addison Cross is working today."

"Nope. He has a shift tomorrow morning; you can leave a message if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary. Thank you." Olivia terminates the call and heads into Rosslyn proper.

Cross's street is bland and unremarkable, lined with identical single floor houses with small yards and three foot metal fences. Olivia parks her SUV a few houses down the way and waits, working out a game plan in her head. There is a truck in his drive and Olivia is certain he's home and most likely alone, given that he has no family. The street around her seems quiet and left undisturbed, the exact opposite of Carlisle's cul-de-sac.

There is movement near the front door and Olivia zeroes in on the small porch. Cross is stepping outside in a pair of worn overalls with an old-fashioned water pail in his hand. Olivia watches carefully as he takes the four steps down slowly, one at a time, balancing all the weight on his left foot as he goes. Then, he moves to the edge of the yard and begins dusting a small plot of flowers with the water.

Olivia kills the engine and slips the strap of her bag over her shoulder, far heavier than it normally is with the weight of (one of) Huck's guns. She is too frustrated to be properly anxious.

Cross looks in her direction when she slams her door. As she approaches him, he straightens up.

"Hello," Olivia says, adopting a sheepish grin.

"Good morning, ma'am." He has a thick southern accent, the good ole boy tint native only to Virginians. If he had been wearing a hat, Olivia thinks he may have tipped it towards her. "You all right?"

Olivia smooths the hair out of her face. "I'm—actually, I'm stuck. I'm trying to find a street called Melville."

Cross's brow furrows. "Can't say I've heard of that. You sure it's here in Rosslyn and not in Georgetown, across the river?"

"Pretty sure my friend said she lived in Rosslyn. She just moved out here and is clearly not good with giving directions," Olivia says ruefully.

"Clearly," Cross repeats with a chuckle. "Whelp, did you try callin' her?"

Olivia holds up her Blackberry, screen darkened. "My phone's dead. I really hate to impose, but could I ask—?"

Cross smiles and it is perfectly pleasant. "Of course, ma'am, of course. Come on in." Cross holds out an arm to beckon her forward but when Olivia approaches, he doesn't try to touch her. "I'm Addison, by the way. Everyone calls me Addy."

Addy, Olivia thinks, mentally raising an eyebrow. "I'm Olivia. Thank you so much for this."

"Aw, it's no trouble. The closer you get to DC, the more complicated things get. Watch your step, now."

Cross's house is clean and quaint, with few trappings and clearly broadcasting his bachelor status. His kitchen is very small and there is a kettle on the stove. "Phone's right behind you," he says, turning up the gas on the range. "Would you like some tea?"

"Sure," says Olivia, not planning to imbibe a single drop. She watches Cross out of the corner of her eye as she dials the number to her own cell phone, safely on silent. "Damn, she's not answering."

"Try again in a few minutes," Cross suggests. "Do you take milk and sugar?"

"Just milk. Thank you."

"G'head and make yourself comfortable, Miss Olivia." She lowers herself into the chair, eyes pinned on Cross's back. "So you're paying a visit to a friend?"

"Mmhmm. She's having a baby shower this afternoon." The lie rolls off her tongue with practiced ease. "I wanted to arrive early to help set up."

"Well now, that's nice of you. Is it her first baby?"

"Third, actually."

Cross gimps across the kitchen, kettle in hand. "Third baby. Wow. I envy your friend; I always wanted a house full of children." Olivia is certain to look attentive when he glances at her from over his shoulder. "But things didn't quite work out for me. My own fault, really." He pours the tea neatly and then hands her the mug. "You have any kids of your own, Miss Olivia?"

"No." She pauses and decides to offer him a small truth. "But I want them, someday." She notices him wincing as he pushes away from the counter. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some help with that?"

"Aw, don't you worry about this old leg of mine. It's an injury I got back when I was young and stupid. I get around all right. It's only real bad at night." He settles into the chair opposite of her and blows to cool his tea. "So what is it you do, ma'am?"

"I'm a lawyer."

Cross whistles. "Very impressive, Miss Olivia. I never did have the smarts for school. But I'm handy; can fix most anything."

Olivia sips at her tea, not really drinking, and forces herself to think about Cross pinning down a college student and lowering himself on her. The two images war in her head and Olivia is beginning to realize that she should have trusted her gut all along.

An idea comes to her. "Do you keep up with the news, by chance? I've been on the road for the last few days but I caught more reports about that missing senator in my hotel room last night. Do you know if anything new has been discovered this morning?"

Cross lowers his tea. "Oh, Senator Carlisle? Nothin' new since last night." He shakes his head and contemplates his mug. "It ain't right, a woman bein' dragged out of her house in the dead of night. I'm keeping her in my prayers."

Olivia stares at him and licks her lips. "You're a religious man, Mr. Addison?"

"Oh yes ma'am, very." He looks up. "God saved me. I was headin' down a bad path when I was a kid and ever since I found Him, I've been trying to turn my life around. I go to church every weekend, and on Tuesday nights for Bible study."

Olivia nods, and then pushes back from the table. "I guess I should try my friend again." This time, when she dials her cell, she pretends someone is on the other end. When she hangs up, she schools her expression into triumph and turns to Cross, who's smiling. "Crisis averted. Seems I took a wrong turn a few roads back."

"Good! Let me walk you out." Once they are on the porch again, Cross gives her a nod. "Drive safely, Miss Olivia. Tell your friend that I'll be praying for her and for that baby of hers."

Olivia climbs into her SUV, watches Cross gather his pail again, then throws the car in reverse. She waits until she's a few blocks away, parks again, and takes out her cell phone.

"Where are you?" Even though there is a tinny quality through the cell phone, the tightness in Huck's voice is clear.

"Mulberry and 3rd. Take Cross off the list."

There's a beat of silence. "Come again?"

"Cross isn't responsible for this. I think…" Olivia takes a breath. "I think he's being framed."

"What?"

Olivia opens her mouth to reply, but her phone chimes. She pulls it away and sees an incoming call. "Huck, hold on. I need to take this," she says before switching over. "Hello?"

"Is this Olivia Pope?" The voice is young and female.

"Depends."

"Miss Pope, my name is Alissa Townsend. Do you remember me? I work in the US Attorney's office as David Rosen's assistant." Olivia's gut clenches. Fuck. "I'm calling on his behalf. He would like you to come in for a meeting this afternoon, if possible."

"I'm busy," she says, fingernails digging into the steering wheel.

"He said you would say that. Mr. Rosen would like you to come anyway. One o'clock sound all right?"

"No."

"Wonderful," Alissa chirps. "Thank you, Miss Pope. Have a good day!"

Olivia stares at her phone for a moment before remembering the other line. "Huck?"

"Olivia, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Fine," she says with false cheer. "Have Abby and Harrison called?"

"Yeah, everything's still green. It looks like Quentin's place will fit the bill. Olivia," Huck repeats. "What about Cross? What did he do?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Olivia's mind jolts back to ten minutes previously, his every movement and word and gesture still clear in her mind. "It wasn't him, Huck."

"How do you—?"

"I know." Olivia runs a hand through her hair.

"Olivia. What is going on?" Huck's tone is even.

"He limps," says Olivia. "He limps hard. He couldn't even put all his weight on his right leg and says it's worse at night. Climbing through a broken window without slipping, mounting a woman on the ground—there's just no way."

"He could be lying."

"He'd have no reason to, not to some random stranger he invited into his home for tea."

Huck lets out a breath. "You went into his house? Alone?"

"Focus, Huck! He limps and it's an old injury, probably something that happened in prison. He goes to Bible study on Tuesdays, which would put him there the night Carlisle was attacked. When I mentioned Carlisle, there was nothing, nothing but vague concern and a promise to pray for her. He didn't do it, Huck."

"And you think somebody is making it look like he did," Huck hedges. "Liv. Cross was there at the courier's office."

"I know."

"Are you saying that he was just a proxy? Something to throw us off the trail this whole time?"

"I don't know," she admits. "But this isn't right. This whole thing isn't right. Cross may be playing some part in this but he did not attack Senator Carlisle."

There is silence on the line while Huck processes it and Olivia wills him to understand, to see what she sees. There's something missing, something they're all missing, and they're running out of time.

"Tell me what you want," Huck says and Olivia closes her eyes.

"Okay. Okay, I need you to reverse gears. Everything we have on Cross, go over again, but this time look at who he associates with. Co-workers, members of his church, friends—everybody. When I come back to the offices, I want it to literally look like six degrees of separation in there. Find me someone with a motive, someone who knows Cross well enough to make this work. Get me an alibi, something to prove he was at Bible study the night Carlisle was attacked."

"Davis. Oliver Davis, the other one at the courier," Huck clarifies. "We looked into each of them and all their connections, but the one thing we didn't look for—"

"—is a connection between the two of them," Olivia finishes, heart pounding. "Huck…"

"I'm on it. I'll get the others up to speed when they get back."

Olivia slowly lowers the phone. The footage of Davis and Cross replays in her mind, the two of them coming from different directions, entering and leaving mere seconds apart. It didn't occur to her before to consider the possibility that they could be more than individual suspects. They could be accomplices.

She turns the key in the ignition and speeds back to DC.

"Hi, Miss Pope," Alissa Townsend says in greeting. "Mr. Rosen's taking a call right now. Have a seat."

Olivia bites the inside of her cheek and moves towards one of the chairs in his waiting area. Bastard did this on purpose. She studies his assistant. Olivia has seen Alissa Townsend before, but she has never really stopped to take a good look at her. She has to be in her mid-twenties and a law student and she's already bearing the markings of standard Rosen grooming. Poor thing.

"So what does David have you do?" Olivia inquires.

"Anything that strikes his fancy," Alissa replies without looking away from her computer. Her fingers fly across the keyboard.

"Filing? Data entry? Brainstorming?"

"All of the above. Also, runs to Starbucks. It's a full service job."

Olivia nods. "Did he feed you a line about up-and-comings having to pay their dues?"

Alissa's fingers pause. She peers around her monitor to look Olivia in the eye. "And if he did?"

"Well he lied. He just likes the toadying." Olivia fishes in her purse and extracts one of her business cards. "If you ever get tired of fetching his soy milk lattes, come by my office. It's a Candyland for anyone who has an eye for the law. Even up-and-comings."

Alissa takes the card gingerly, as if half-expecting it to explode. "Are you giving this to me because you're honestly interested or are you just trying to stick it to Mr. Rosen?"

Olivia tilts her head and smiles. "Can't a girl have her cake and eat it too?"

Alissa returns the smile and contact is made. Somewhere behind the waiting area, a throat clears. "Olivia? Stop trying to seduce my assistant and come in here, please."

Olivia stands and brushes imaginary lint off her trousers. "Candyland," she repeats solemnly before heading towards Rosen's office.

She finds him with his legs crossed and feet propped up on his desk, phone balanced between his shoulder and cheek. Both of his hands are occupied trying to open a fun-size bag of Ruffles.

"Yes, very good sir. You'll have it on your desk by Monday morning. Yes, you too." Rosen lets the phone slide down his shoulder, catches it deftly and places it in its holder. The Ruffles bag pops open and he nods towards the chair in front of his desk. "Olivia. It's been too long."

"Oh, not nearly long enough," she says airily, sitting down.

Rosen pointedly takes a large bite out of a chip. "Come on, you haven't missed me even a little bit?"

"This may come as a shock to you, but my time is incredibly valuable and I don't waste it sitting around thinking about you."

"You ever thought about a career in movies?" Rosen asks lightly, popping another potato chip into his mouth. The non sequitur almost gives her whiplash. "Set production and design. You've got a real knack for it, between this and the Gideon Wallace thing."

Oh. Of course. Olivia recovers quickly enough to arch an eyebrow. "If I switched careers, then I'd be depriving you of my company and I know how that'd break your heart."

"You know, I was going to tell you how I found out the scene at Carlisle's house was fake but now, I don't think I will." Rosen slides his feet off the desk and rocks his chair back into an upright position. "You're losing your touch, Liv."

The theme of the week. "What is it you want, David?"

"The same thing I always want: the truth. Justice. And I can get them with the full power of the law behind me."

"You don't have the law behind you, not this time. All you have are flimsy suspicions and nothing concrete to back them up and you are officially crossing into wasting-my-time territory so again, what is it you want?"

Rosen studies her face in silence. Then, he licks his lips and tilts his head, adopting his patented going-in-for-the-kill-expression. "Have you met the stepson yet? He's had to take a leave of absence from school. Senator Carlisle is his hero and the only mother he's known since his biological mom died when he was a kid. I know you caught that bit on the afternoon news circuit."

Olivia is slightly insulted that Rosen assumed that tactic would work. "As Senator Carlisle is my client, it's in my interest to reunite her with her family."

"Maybe we could hold the reunion at your offices?"

"And that would be conducive if Senator Carlisle was actually there, but she isn't."

"No, she wouldn't be. Not now. But I know she was and I know that wherever she is, you're doing your damnedest to keep her safe. But you're running out of time." Rosen stands and looks around. "I want you to savor this moment, Olivia Pope, because it will probably never come again. But…I want to help you." Olivia stares at him. Rosen rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and sucks his teeth. "I know. Strange, huh?"

It takes Olivia a minute before she can jerk herself out of her stupor, but when she does she dips her hand inside her bag, finds her Blackberry and hits the button for speed-dial.

"Beene."

"You son of a bitch," Olivia snarls. Rosen's eyebrows jump.

"Well hello, Miss Pope. Fine day, isn't it? All sunny and blue. Damn fine."

"What the hell did you do, Cyrus?"

"What ever are you talking about, walnut?"

"I am standing in the office of the US Attorney's equivalent of Robin Hood and he's offering me his bow for Carlisle!"

"I do love a good pair of tights," says Rosen conversationally.

"Shut up. No, not you, Cyrus. You will tell me right now what you did and—"

"My concern for a prominent senator led me to make sure all resources that the government is afforded be used in getting her back. And seeing as how the US Attorney's office was trying to play poker without a full deck—"

"How much did he tell you?" Olivia demands. Rosen purses his lips and Olivia swears to god, if he smiles right now she will slap him.

"You and Rosen play nice, now," Cyrus says just before the jarring dial tone sounds. Olivia resists the urge to throw her phone through Rosen's window.

"If it's any consolation, I'm about as excited about this as you are," says Rosen.

"It's not any consolation and there is no this. I have a client and a case to get back to."

"We have a client and a case. Technically. Hey, I tried to level with you earlier," Rosen states, holding out his hands.

Olivia grits her teeth. "I didn't know you were so easily bought."

"Oh I'm not," replies Rosen. "My boss is, though, as much as I hate to admit that. But there was no auctioning off this time. There aren't any laws being broken."

"Conspiracy against the American people?"

"Carlisle's in a makeshift witness protection program," Rosen says.

"Seriously? That's what you're going with?"

He shrugs. David Rosen shrugs. "There are a total of three people in this department who know what's going on. My superior, her superior and me. It's going to stay that way. And no, not because of anything coming out of the White House, so don't even look at me like that," Rosen adds when her expression twists. "The less people know about this, the better we can work."

"And this doesn't ruffle your righteous little feathers, working under the table?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" Rosen takes a few steps closer to her and leans in conspiratorially. "I'm not as much of a white knight as you think I am."

"Yes you are."

Rosen blinks, straightening. "Yeah, okay, so I am. But we're on the same side this time, Olivia. No resistance, no counterpoint, just simple cooperation. I want to see Senator Carlisle back in her seat as much as you do, and I want whoever's behind this brought to justice. Let me help you. Or," he continues slowly, "I can go back to my boss and tell her that you refuse to cooperate and we should put the full force of the office into investigating Senator Carlisle's disappearance ourselves. Which would just make both of our lives more complicated at this point. Your choice: you and me and a relatively fuck-up free arrangement, or the US Attorney's office being crammed down your throat."

Olivia considers Rosen. She is seething inside. "You're enjoying this."

Rosen does smile, then. "I see why you like it so much. It is fun, having all the chips."

Olivia wants nothing more than to turn on her heel and tell him to bring it, but one doesn't work in politics without learning how to set aside pride at some point and as much as it kills her, she finally nods.

"My offices. Three o'clock."

"Why not now?"

"Because I said three o'clock," she snaps. "You are helping, not running the damn show."

"Whatever you say, boss," Rosen says with less sarcasm than she would have given him credit for and the fact that he seems to be reasonable and acquiescent about all this just burns her.

Olivia stalks out of his office. She swears she can hear him laughing before she rounds the corner.

The clock is just chiming two when Olivia returns to Pope & Associates.

"Give me an update on the turtle doves," Olivia calls as she strides inside.

Harrison's head is the first to pop out from his office. "Abby and I got them settled in. Swept the place twice and found absolutely nothing. They should be okay for a few hours at least, till we can get someone in there to keep watch."

Abby appears at her side, startling her. Olivia wishes she wouldn't do that. "Where have you been? Huck said something about Cross being innocent and that he and Davis may be working together?"

"I was summoned and we'll talk Cross later," Olivia replies summarily, slipping her blazer off. As she passes by Huck's office, she beckons him to follow her.

"But Cross—"

"Abby, I said later. Quinn! My office!"

"You were summoned?" Harrison repeats. "Summoned by whom?"

"Batman. Quinn," Olivia says, finding the brunette hot on her heels, "all those files I gave you on the senator's family? I need copies of them within the next hour. Abby, I need you to do the same with everything you dug up on Cross and Harrison, same thing with your files on Davis. Huck, anything incriminating in your office—actually, anything incriminating on this entire floor—I need you to shut down or stash away."

Olivia tosses the blazer on the back of her chair with one hand and her purse on the desk with the other. She turns to find four pairs of eyes peering at her from the threshold to her office. "Now?"

"What's going on?" Quinn asks plaintively and oh yes, Olivia definitely needs to keep her away from Abby.

"In about an hour, we're going to be having a meeting with an agency outside of this one on the Carlisle case."

"And when you say outside agency, you mean David Rosen?" inquires Abby incredulously. "He can't just come in here and demand—"

"No demands were made. Fifty-eight minutes, people."

Nobody moves. "We're working with David Rosen? Willingly?" Harrison clarifies.

"The vote is the day after tomorrow and we're no closer to figuring this out. The more heads we get in on this—"

"David Rosen," Abby says, eyebrows trying their damnedest to kiss her hairline.

Olivia, very pointedly, sets her hands on top of her desk. "Have I ever—ever—given any of you the impression that there were lengths I wouldn't be willing to go to, to help my clients? I have bent the law for you and I have broken the law for you," she adds, looking directly at Quinn. "Doing things our way has its advantages, but it also has its limitations. Having Rosen's resources behind us on this not only opens avenues we don't have access to but it also expedites the process."

"And muddies the waters legally," Harrison points out.

The simple answer to that, of course, is that all laws of the United States tremble before the might of one Cyrus Beene, but Olivia has to bite her tongue. "David and I have an understanding as far as this is concerned."

"Right. An understanding. Because that doesn't sound sketchy at all."

"Less mouth, more work," she says. When they still don't move, Olivia sighs and tries diplomacy. "Guys…level with me. It's just Rosen, not his whole office. There's nothing illegal about this case and if he can help…trust me."

Those are Olivia's magic words, they always have been. Huck, of course, is the first to nod. Quinn follows and, rolling her eyes, Abby takes off next. Harrison lingers.

Olivia searches for words to reassure him but Harrison just shakes his head. "Be careful, Liv."

Her purse buzzes. Olivia unearths her Blackberry and finds a text message waiting for her.

Wanna borrow my knee guards? -Cy

This time, Olivia does throw her phone.