Seven minutes before three, Olivia's phone rings. She has to walk across the room and pick it up from where it lay on the ground near the window. Totally undamaged. Sadly.

The number is private. Olivia's eyes widen and she double checks the clock even though she's fully aware of the time. She shoves her office door closed and answers the call in a fierce whisper.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Well," he says slowly, "if I had to venture a guess…placing a phone call?"

Perfect, he's in a mood. Olivia runs a hand over her face and leans against the wall. "For Christ's sake, it's three o'clock in the afternoon."

"The sun's down in Beirut," he points out.

Olivia tilts her head towards the phone, unable to keep the pure annoyance out of her voice. "Are you in Beirut, Fitzgerald?"

"See, this is why I called. I knew when I saw Cyrus strutting around here smirking that something was up."

"You shouldn't have called. We don't do this, not in daylight."

"Yet you picked up anyway," he returns evenly and god, Olivia wants to rip his hair out some days. "What's going on, Liv? What'd Cyrus do?"

"Undermined my authority and stole Christmas from the Whos and before you even go there, because I know you will," Olivia adds with a quickness, "you do not confront him about this. This is between me and him and this has nothing to do with you so don't get in between."

"Me? Between you and Cy? Liv, I would sell tickets if I could."

"I'm sorry—why are you calling me again? Because if you're trying to diffuse something or make me feel less homicidal, you are failing spectacularly."

There's a pause. "Homicidal, huh?"

"I have a gun in my Marc Jacobs satchel."

"How very James Bond of you. Seriously, Liv," he continues, his tone transforming between heartbeats. "I've got people following the Carlisle thing, too. I know there's been nothing new. I know you're frustrated and that whatever Cyrus has done has only made matters worse. And I know that I'm breaking a cardinal rule, calling when the sun is still out. But I had to tell you."

"What?" she says warily, her heart dropping.

"That you aren't alone." And all the breath leaves her body in a silent whoosh. "You can do anything. You are the most amazing person I've ever known. You make magic for a living and you can do this, Liv."

Olivia runs her tongue over her top lip and ducks her head, shoulders going slack against the wall. "Okay. Okay."

"But I'd definitely ditch the gun. Even though the thought of you handling a gun is..."

"Sexy?" she offers.

"I was going to say scary."

"Liar. You are such a Republican."

"Be strong, sweet baby. I believe in you." Like always, Fitz lets the silence stretch for a second before he hangs up, filling it with all the little things they both wish they could say to each other.

Olivia lowers the phone and inhales. She hates herself for it but in that moment, hearing his voice was exactly what she needed. Olivia tucks her phone in her pocket and gathers her blazer.

Out in the hall her team has assembled, eyes collectively fixed to the door. The clock on the wall above the board room reads 2:57.

"Guys," she says, "it's David Rosen, not Kim Jong-Il."

"I could take Kim Jong-Il," says Harrison. "We wouldn't be getting in bed with Kim Jong-Il."

"We're not getting in bed with David Rosen, either."

Harrison snorts and casts Olivia a dark look. "Then why the hell do I feel like I should be wearing a feather boa?"

"Because you have unspoken issues and that's one of many?" Abby suggests.

Olivia nods at Quinn. "Anything new with the family?"

"Senator Carlisle's parents landed on time," Quinn says, shaking her head. "They're staying with her husband and stepson. Makes it easier on us, anyway."

"And I'm working on Cross," adds Huck. "I filled everyone in as best I could."

"Good," she says with a nod. "I'll explain more as soon as—"

The elevator dings. The five of them are standing stock still when Rosen pushes open the front door. His eyes dance over them all and land on Olivia.

"Permission to cross enemy lines, or am I to be shot on sight?"

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Just come in."

It takes them a little over a half hour to get Rosen up to speed. He listens attentively while they retrace their footsteps and go over each angle of what they found, pacing around the room and stopping every now and again to stare up at the board.

"So…Senator Carlisle is being blackmailed and the two potential suspects are Cross and Davis and they could be working with each other," he summarizes. "We have an APB out on a suspicious vehicle seen around Carlisle's neighborhood."

"Stolen from a rental company, yes." Rosen comes to stand next to her in front of the board. Olivia scratches her scalp. "There's someone behind this pulling the strings."

"Someone in Congress. That's what you were thinking, yes?" Olivia nods. Rosen considers the board for a minute."I could get background on all the Congress members who oppose the bill and cross reference them with members who actively dislike Carlisle."

"We don't have that kind of time," Harrison says. "Not if we want to get Carlisle back on the hill in two days."

"If Cross doesn't know anything, then Davis must. We need to talk to him," Huck states.

Abby scoffs. "Screw 'if Cross doesn't know anything'. It's too convenient—we need more from him too. I'm sorry, Liv, I trust your gut, but—"

"It never hurts to be thorough," Olivia finishes.

"Yes. Even if they aren't directly responsible for Carlisle's attack, they both have to know more. They might even know each other."

"Or not. They didn't arrive or leave the courier's office together, after all." Quinn points out.

"Yes, sweet pea. That's called coordinating and people who plan to break the law are usually good at it." Abby's tone is oily. "I still say they know each other."

Huck is typing away at his lap top. "I'm looking into both of them for possible connections but I haven't found anything yet. They live in completely different area codes and one is a white collar social climber and the other is a quiet, simple tradesman."

"There has to be something there," Olivia insists, staring up at the images of Cross and Davis. This is all taking too long and Harrison is right—they are running out of time. Olivia straightens up. "I want them both in here," she announces. "Huck, Abby—you two go after Davis. Pretend to be representing those he discriminated against with awarding loans. If he squabbles, tell him you can come back with the police and an arrest warrant."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rosen shake his head.

"Quinn, I want you and Harrison to bring Cross here," Olivia continues.

"What should we say to him?" Quinn asks.

Olivia tongues the corner of her lip and shakes the hair out of her face. "Say…Sarah Delaney. He'll come."

"So you're going to harass our only two suspects?" Rosen inquires baldly once Olivia's team takes their leave. "This is good strategy."

"The vote is in two days."

"Is it more important than making sure Carlisle isn't attacked again and that the photos of her and Quentin stay under wraps?"

"Not according to her, no. And as it's her I work for, hers is the only opinion that matters." He shakes his head again and Olivia sighs. "Looking through Congress for the mastermind could take weeks, David. Right now we have two people who we know will be able to give us information, with a little prodding."

"Prodding," he repeats with a sidelong look. Olivia rolls her eyes. "But you don't think it was Cross who attacked Senator Carlisle."

"No. Not unless Meryl Streep is coaching him with his acting."

"And do you have some basis for this, or is this another one of those Spidey-sense things?"

"He says he attends church every Tuesday evening and you and I are going to investigate this alibi, oh ye of little faith."

In the elevator, Olivia places a call directly to Quentin's cell phone. It takes a few rings for her to pick up, making Olivia's nerves bristle. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." Quentin sounds breathless. Olivia doesn't want to know. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Your—protection—seems quite dedicated."

"Are you watching the news?"

Quentin makes a sad sound. "Yeah. I can't get her away from it, not since word that her parents landed earlier. Anything new on your end?"

"We're working on a couple of things. We'll check in again tonight."

"Good luck, Miss Pope."

Olivia exchanges the phone for her keys as the elevator dips to the garage level. Rosen is hot on her heels as she strides towards her SUV.

"Who was that?" Rosen inquires innocently. Olivia studiously ignores him and clicks the button to unlock the car. "Just for future reference," he continues, pulling open the passenger side door, "the law enforcement officers of the DC metropolitan area are extremely competent."

"That's debatable," Olivia says with a snort, "but I assume there's a point you're trying to make?"

"Faking a kidnapping to protect Senator Carlisle was unnecessary. Beyond unnecessary. Superfluous even. Letting police and investigators in on what was happening would have been wiser and might have helped you in the long run."

"Oh, please," she drawls, shooting him an incredulous look. "Try to remember who you're talking to. Staging a kidnapping had to be done to flush out the blackmailer."

"I see." Rosen tilts his head. "How's that working out for you?"

Olivia, counting to ten in her head, turns the engine on and pulls out of the parking space.

"I'm serious here, Olivia. You went through all of this trouble and broke—"

"Bent."

"All right, bent the law—almost out of shape, mind you—to try to smoke out whoever's behind this and it hasn't gotten you anywhere. Which means whoever's behind this is too smart for your cat and mouse games."

Olivia is unspeakably close to letting out a stream of words in a tone that would make even Cyrus shrink back when Rosen's phone rings. He fidgets in his seat to get to his pocket.

"David Rosen." There is a long silence which Olivia uses to get her anger back under control and head out of the garage. When Rosen makes a spluttering sound, her eyes dart over to him. "That…you sure? And his name is—and he said…okay. Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes." She watches as Rosen drops the phone, looking somewhat stunned.

"Oh good, am I dropping you off somewhere?" she asks, barely able to contain her glee at this turn of events.

As they emerge from the garage, the afternoon sun strikes the windshield, bathing them both in light. Rosen looks especially pale. "Yeah. The precinct."

He really looks pale. Olivia is beginning to get concerned. "You're gonna have to start breathing here soon, David. What happened?"

His eyes close and his head drops just slightly. "A few minutes ago, a man showed up to the precinct to turn himself over to the police for breaking and entering a house. Says he's being framed for kidnapping."

Olivia's eyes dart from the road to Rosen. The smile creeps onto her face, impossible to repress. "Well, how about that. And what was this man's name?"

Rosen mutters something. Olivia leans closer. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I said his name is Oliver Davis and you are the most evil woman on the planet," Rosen snaps.

Olivia positively trills. "Fancy that."

"Olivia—just don't."

It really is cute, how he thinks he can order her around. "What was that you were saying about my tactics not working?" she asks sweetly.

"Shut up."

"Meow," Olivia says, grinning. She changes lanes. "Why don't you give Abby a call, hmm? I'd do it myself, but I'm driving. And call me boss again, I liked that."

"Give me your damn phone, Satan."

Olivia had registered on some level, when looking at photos of him, that Oliver Davis is a handsome man, tanned, with a perfect goatee and dark eyes. Casually attractive in an offhand sort of way, the sort of way that usually made Olivia do a double take.

Oliver Davis is not handsome now, sitting in an interrogation room in a rumpled suit that he's probably had on since yesterday, longish hair greasy with a sickeningly yellow pallor to his face.

"I broke into her home but I didn't kidnap her," he insists with wild eyes to the detective asking the questions. Olivia observes from behind the one way glass while Rosen talks with a colleague in the corner of the room.

"That's about the ninth time he's said that. Lies, of course," the colleague says in a matter-of-fact way.

Olivia manages to tear her eyes away from Davis to cast Rosen a pointed look over her shoulder.

Extremely competent my ass.

"Then where is she?" the investigator inside asks.

"I don't know," Davis moans, burying his face in his hands. "I broke in and I roughed her up a little but that was all! I left her there, I swear to god. I didn't take her. You have to believe me!"

"We don't have to do anything, Mr. Davis," the investigator snaps and Olivia resists the urge to bang her head on the glass.

"They aren't asking the right questions," she calls to Rosen. "I want five minutes."

"Absolutely not," Rosen says flatly.

"We're partners in this, remember? I let you play in my yard, you let me play in yours."

Rosen makes a wild sound. "Do you know how many times they could throw the book at me for even letting you in here?"

Inside the interrogation room, round two has just begun. The investigator bangs his hands on the table, making Davis jump. "You kidnapped Linda Carlisle!"

"I didn't do it!"

"Do you hold amateur hour here every afternoon or am I getting a special show?" Olivia asks of Rosen's colleague, who glares at her. She returns her focus to Rosen. "The only reason you have him in custody right now is because of me. Five minutes, then I'll take my ball and go back to my firm and focus on Cross."

"Do you know how long you are going to be in prison for the abduction of a government official?"

Davis is starting to cry. "I didn't do it! I swear, I swear on my life, on my mother's life, I had nothing to do with her disappearing!"

"Seriously, David," says Olivia, watching the show through the glass, "if he has a nervous breakdown and is too hysterical to tell us anything, I'm blaming you. While you're standing there, though, could you get me some popcorn?"

Rosen curses.

"Sir?" his colleague hedges.

"Out. And get O'Malley out of there, too. Now!" Olivia spins to face him. His expression is deadly serious. "At four minutes and fifty-nine seconds, you are out. Clear?"

Olivia waits a full minute after Investigator O'Malley leaves the room before moving. She pulls open the door to find Davis still hunched over in his chair, shoulders shaking. Olivia pushes the door closed behind her, pulls up the chair opposite and drops herself gracelessly in it.

"Hi, Oliver." A reddened face appears between twitchy fingers. "Seems you've gotten yourself into a bit of a jam." Olivia reaches for the pitcher of water and pours a glass.

"I didn't kidnap the senator," he whimpers.

"I know," she replies, pushing the glass towards him.

His eyes widen. "…w-what?"

"I know you didn't kidnap the senator. You broke into her house between ten and eleven PM two nights ago, crawled in through a window in her living room and attacked her."

"Yes," he moans. "But I swear, I didn't—"

"I got that," Olivia cuts in. "What I want to know is who sent you to attack her." Oliver stare at her. She can imagine that just behind the darkened window, Rosen's colleagues are probably turning to him with disbelieving expressions. "Because that's why you're here, isn't it? Whoever it is you're working for isn't very happy with you because it wasn't the plan to kidnap Senator Carlisle, only to scare her. And since she's turned up missing, your boss thinks you screwed up the job somehow and that can't make things good for you. He probably threatened you, threatened to expose all the underhanded things you've done at United Funds, discriminating against minorities and homosexuals. I'm sure he threatened your wife, too. Stop me when I'm getting warm, by the way."

Davis isn't yellow anymore, he's white as a sheet. Olivia waits. He licks his cracked lips, visibly shaking in his chair. "Levi Roman." Olivia has to be careful to control her reaction. "That's what he calls himself. Levi Roman. I don't know who he is."

"And how did Mr. Roman contact you?"

"Emails, at first. Then phone calls. He said he knew what I was doing at United Funds, that he had proof and he would ruin me if I didn't do exactly what he said."

"And what did he tell you to do?"

"He gave me an envelope. It just showed up on my desk."

Olivia frowns. "What was inside?"

"No, that's just it. Just an envelope. An empty envelope." He draws in a rattling breath. "I was to take it the courier's office south of Dupont and meet a man there who would give me the contents for it. So I did as I was told and sure enough, there was a man there—about my height, with a beard. He had a folder with him, a sealed folder. We put the folder in the envelope, sealed it and he addressed it while I wrote down the contact info Roman gave me."

Olivia leans forward. "What was the man's name?"

Davis shrugs helplessly. "I don't know, I've never seen him before. He was friendly enough, said hello and didn't ask any questions, just went about his business. He left first after we were done, told me to have a blessed day." Davis laughs a watery laugh. "It seemed so simple, so stupid. Go to the office at an exact time, leave at an exact time. I knew there had to be more to it, but I thought it was over with after that. Then, Levi Roman called me and said my work wasn't done."

"And he had you break into Carlisle's house?"

Davis nods, miserable. "Expressed clothing over to me while I was at the office, for god's sake."

"What did he tell you to do?"

"Just scare her. Knock her around. Call her a dyke." Davis buries his face in his hands again. "I'm so sorry. I could've lost my job and my wife has medical bills, we couldn't—"

"Have you heard from Mr. Roman since?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I had to call him after to tell him the job was done. And then, yesterday morning, when the news broke out…I was scared to death." Olivia can't bring herself to feel any pity for him. Davis sniffs. "I tried to go about my day like everything was okay and then…then I got an email, this morning. Two words: 'you're dead'." A hand shoots out and catches Olivia's wrist before she can wrench it away. "You have to protect my wife! You have to get her somewhere safe, please!"

The door behind her bursts open and Rosen is there, pulling Davis back. Davis, who is wailing with tear-stained cheeks. While a couple of uniformed officers get him under control, Olivia slips out of the room, catching her breath.

"You okay?" Rosen asks.

She nods. She isn't scared; adrenaline is rushing through her in waves. Finally, something. She's getting somewhere. "We need to talk to Cross. He might know more than Davis."

Rosen nods. "I can't bring him in. If what Davis said is true, we have nothing on him."

"I got it. I'll handle it."

"I'll keep at it with Davis. You call me after you talk to him and we'll compare notes."

"Will do," she says without arguing. She tilts her head in the direction of the interrogation room. "I'd definitely have someone keep an eye on the wife. Levi Roman must be getting desperate. And try to keep the press off the scent for as long as you can."

"No shit."

Before she even makes it out of the station, Olivia is dialing Quinn's number. "Did you get him?" she demands the moment she picks up.

"Yes, but he's not happy."

"Keep him there. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Quinn is waiting for her by the elevator when she arrives, smoothing down her steel gray pencil skirt.

"Abby and Huck say Davis turned himself in?" she asks, jumping to keep up with Olivia's lightning-fast pace into the offices.

"Yep. Where is he?"

"We put him in Harrison's office. He isn't saying or doing much. He's….eerily calm. Didn't fight or argue, just came with us."

"Good. Tell Harrison I need him to go through Davis's emails and look for anything from Levi Roman. Have Huck see if he can get a handle on security cameras in United Funds; Davis got two deliveries there from the blackmailer. I want you and Abby to go to Quentin's house and get them up to speed."

Olivia doesn't even bother to stop and get a look at the figure hunched on Harrison's couch before she pulls the door open. Cross shoots to his feet and his expression goes blank when he sees her. Recognition creeps in.

"You. Olivia?"

"Olivia Pope."

Cross is at a loss for words. He looks around and swallows. "You weren't lost."

"No. I'm a crisis manager and I was investigating you as a possible suspect for the assault and abduction of Senator Linda Carlisle," she says calmly, lowering herself into Harrison's desk chair.

It takes Cross another minute to digest this. "And," he says, "you couldn't have just asked me?"

Olivia snorts, she can't help it. "In my profession, that isn't the first idea that comes to mind. Any sort of direct questioning had to be done on my grounds in safety."

"So, you tell your staff to coerce me by bringing up painful memories from my past mistakes?" Olivia doesn't respond, but the level look she gives him says it all. Boo-hoo. Cross makes a bitter noise before sitting back down on the couch. "Any means necessary, huh?"

"I needed to bring you here and as you are a suspect, I couldn't tell you the whole truth. I used what I had in my arsenal."

"I didn't have anything to do with Senator Carlisle," says Cross. "Truthfully, I had never even heard of the woman until yesterday mornin'."

"The second part I believe. The first part, I don't. Does the name Levi Roman mean anything to you?" she continues before Cross interrupts. He shakes his head. "Last Saturday, you visited a courier's office south of Dupont Circle to have something sent to Capitol Hill."

A strange look comes over Cross's face. "Is that what this is all about?"

Olivia recovers her phone, scrolls through her camera reel and selects a photograph. She holds it out for Cross to see: a photo of Davis she surreptitiously snapped in the police station. "Did you meet with this man?"

"Yes," Cross says slowly. "I don't understand."

"This is the man who broke into Carlisle's home."

"I…God. I had no idea."

"Who gave you the folder to take to the courier's office, Mr. Cross?"

"Deacon Mosby," says Cross, brow furrowed. "It was a favor. He knew I was coming into town on Saturday to pick up some spare parts for work and he asked me to meet with his friend and send the envelope off for him."

"Mosby."

"Earl Mosby. But I don't think that he—"

"It didn't strike you as strange, that you were given the sealed folder without a proper envelope? That you had to meet someone at the courier's office to complete the delivery?"

"Well…yeah, but Deacon Mosby is a busy man. And sorta eccentric. I didn't think to ask." Cross leans forward. "You don't honestly think the deacon is—?"

"The envelope that you and Davis sent to the hill contained sensitive material that has been used to blackmail Senator Carlisle. You're an accessory to all of this, unknowing or not and until Davis turned himself in, you were the number one suspect. A history of violence towards women, a conviction and prison time served. If Davis hadn't gotten cold feet, the FBI would be knocking down your door right now. And given that when Davis attacked the senator, he pinned her to the floor and called her a dyke, I think it's a fair assumption to say that whoever is behind this intended you to take the fall," Olivia finishes, watching as Cross goes rigid.

His throat works. "I…"

"So you need to tell me just how well Deacon Mosby knows you." Olivia stands up. "I'll give you a few minutes to get your thoughts straight."

Once the door is closed firmly behind her, she yells for Harrison who comes skidding down the hallway, eyes the picture of panic. "What's happening? You all right?"

Olivia shifts her stance. "You guys know I still have a gun in my bag, right? Cross isn't a threat."

Harrison nods and catches his breath. "So….?"

"Earl Mosby. I want absolutely everything you can find on him now. And make a pot of coffee, would you?"

When Olivia goes back into the room, Cross looks no calmer. His hands are shaking, but he takes the cup of coffee graciously.

"I'd like to help you, Mr. Cross. I need you to be as honest as possible in order for me to do that."

Cross nods and takes a deep breath.

A/N: Thank you all for reading. Please drop me a review; I love feedback!