Hi, there! Here you have it, chapter eight, in full as promised. I'm actually quite excited about it this chapter. I think of all the Scandal characters, Cyrus is certainly the most fun to write because he's so dynamic, yet so unyielding in his character. It's fascinating! Anyway, this chapter delves into Cy's perspective on the days leading up to Olivia's death. Enjoy, and don't forget to review in that little box down there!

Conversations on One Thing

Sometime in the Future. Post.

Cyrus wasn't fond of being a teacher. There was so little thrill in it all. He was always a firm believer in those who cannot do, teach, so needless to say, this wasn't in any of his game plans. But after Fitz resigned, after Olivia died, everybody had keep it moving. This was him, keeping it moving.

He stood in front of a class of sophomores at Georgetown giving a lecture on social sciences. "And in spite of the fact that we privilege and pride ourselves on being the greatest example of democracy perhaps in the entire world, voter turnout in this country is shockingly low. Why is that? Or first, let me ask you, what percentage of Americans voted in our most recent election? Give me a guess. Come on, don't be shy, no wrong answers,"

"Eighty-eight."

"Nope."

"Seventy-three."

"Wrong, where are you pulling your answers from," he laughed.

"Forty-six percent."

"Yes, yes, Mrs. O'Halloran. Less than fifty percent of Americans voted in our most recent election! Less than half. Do you what that means? How about I take seventy-five of you let you decide the fate of this classroom. At this point, that is our democratic process. And it's shocking isn't it? For the number to be so low. Tell me why."

"Well, Americans have lost their faith in politicians. Every scandal, every lie to surface, more and more people err from the democratic process-"

"I don't know. I don't think it's so much that the scandals or even the media deters people from voting. Nowadays, politicians can't agree on anything. Democrats and Republicans, liberals, conservatives, it all flies over people's heads. From the people's eyes, we aren't seeing anything being done in our legislature, so we don't care. We don't vote. I know for a fact that my parents didn't vote last year, not because they didn't care, but because they didn't see a viable candidate in Sally Langston or Hector Rodriguez."

" When it comes down to it, though Americans don't like Washington, and most of us don't like who we vote for in the end. We don't trust our politicians."

"Why? What do you think is the fundamental reasoning behind that distrust?"

"They're crooked, Professor Beene. They lie."

Panic settled, alarms rang in Cyrus' ear at the words.

Suddenly the room was spinning, faces were mixing into one another. He looked at Tyler bizarrely, and he felt disoriented. It was happening again, another vertigo. The bell rang, and Cyrus was overcome with the feeling of falling. He rushed back to his office. Closing the door and locking it, Cyrus collapsed onto the floor. He was fading from consciousness, but he could have sworn that he was seeing ghosts permeating through the walls.

They're crooked, Professor. They lie.

Cyrus often wondered, what did the world know? How much had been revealed from the gleam in Cyrus' eye? How much of the dirt from his filthy past be dug up?

May 18, 2012

The first time Cyrus saw Olivia pregnant, he didn't notice. She was seven and a half months along. She was showing, but in her outfit, you couldn't tell unless you looked closely.

"We have to stop meeting like this." Olivia said, as Cyrus came to sit next to her on the bench. She wore a lightweight blouse that hid her swollen tummy, and a dark-rinsed denim. Her top was so clever, in fact, that Cyrus did observe her pregnancy at all.

"We always meet here. I kind of like it."

"It's getting stale."

"You look," his eyes onced her over, "different."

"How so?"

"Good. You look good."

"Thank you, Cy. So, how's our guy?"

He looked at her, mouth agape. "Our guy? He's distant. He says he's ready for four more years, but his eyes don't always match his mouth. He doesn't seem to want it the way he did before. He lacks the will, the drive.

"But King Cyrus is making him do it anyway," she said defiantly.

"Oh please, we never force Fitz to do anything he doesn't want to do. He's a grown man. He's a President for Christ's sake."

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Am I wrong? Speak up, Liv," Cyrus demanded.

"No, you're right. He is perfectly capable of making his own choices. And so am I," she said, putting a hand over her belly, sighing deeply. A sad, thoughtful look played in her eyes.

"Now, what are you talking about?"

She turned to Cyrus, "I want to see him."

"Your timing could not be worse."

Smiling ruefully, she responded, "Well, I don't really think it can wait."

"It'll have to. Listen, Liv, it's a no for now. I have to keep him focused. I have to make sure that Fitz has everything he needs, including a clear head. I can't let you see him, not yet."

"Cyrus, please," she insisted. "I think it'll be good for us to see each other. To clear the air. It'll be fine. I just need an hour with him, tops."

"An hour? Is that all it takes these days," he said, looking to her knowingly.

"We'll only talk."

"'Only talking' will turn to only kissing, then the other stuff, then before you know it, he'll be trying to pull out from the race, so he can run off into the sunset with you," he explained breathlessly.

"I wouldn't let it go that far."

"Right," he snorted, "As if you had anymore self-control than he did."

She gave him the most innocent of puppy dog stares, and she never broke eye contact. She needed to see Fitz, she had to tell him about the baby. She owed him that much.

"Fine. Fine, I'll arrange it."

She kissed him on the cheek, and squeezed his shoulder. "Thanks. You won't regret this, Cyrus. You really won't." She gathered up her things from the bench and turned to walk away, but before she did- "Oh, and best to not tell the President I'm coming."

"You know he's not big on surprises, Liv."

"I'm hoping he'll like this one," Olivia retorted with a wink.

Looking back, this was the moment when Cyrus should have recognized, should have seen that Liv was different, changed somehow. He wasn't focused enough to notice her well-hidden stomach, her swollen fingers or her bright, pregnant glow. He wasn't focused, so he missed the signs. Maybe, just maybe, if he had found out she was pregnant then, at the right time, things could have turned out much differently for Liv, for them both.

/

May 19, 2011,

It was 10:46 pm. Olivia had only stepped into the White House sixteen minutes before, and she was leaving in tears. Being Cyrus, he had waited outside of the Oval Office like a good watchdog. He was mostly on the lookout for Mellie who could have made an appearance at any moment, but didn't. He had barked for Lauren to go home early that night. He was prepared to wait all night for them to talk to say whatever needed to be said. But now Olivia was leaving with tears rushing down her face.

There was only a lot of shouting. Cyrus couldn't make out what either of them were saying, but it wasn't pleasant. There was a lot of thumping and thrashing. Not the sound of passionate lovemaking, but something else. Something angry.

He was sure he could hear Fitz scream, 'I don't know what you want me to do.'

And Olivia may have shrieked back, 'You don't have to do a damn thing,' before leaving.

The door flew open from the Oval Office, and without looking Cyrus' way, began to speed down the hall. He got up to follow her.

"Olivia, wait a minute. Hold on. What's-"

"Nothing. I should never have come. I don't know what I was thinking." she clutched the coat she was wearing tighter to her stomach before turning away to leave.

Cyrus was almost relieved to find that they hadn't the reconciliation that Olivia had hoped for. Nothing had changed, Fitz apparently still couldn't stand to be in the same room as Olivia. He thought, just for a minute that everything was right with the world.

He walked back to the Oval with caution, "You've done a good thing tonight, sir."

Fitz cheeks were flushed and he held his head in his hands. "Excuse me?"

"You don't need the distraction. The whole Olitz firestorm is chaos, remember? I love Liv as much as you do, but the timing wasn't right. You did good tonight, Fitz. For once," Cyrus poured the President a glass of scotch for his nerves, poured one for himself, too. Though, he hated scotch. "You want to tell me what all of the buzz was about?"

Fitz sighed heavily before knocking the drink back in one big gulp, "I should have just quit all of this when I had the chance. I had an out, but I didn't take it because I was afraid. And now-"

"And now, sir?"

"Now, it's too late to run from this Presidency. I'm trapped."

The next night, Olivia was at OPA closing another case. She sat at her desk mindlessly as all but Huck had gone home already. There was no knock at the door.

"What exactly did you say to him the other night?"

"You should go home. Get some sleep."

"I can't. You know I can't sleep, not when it seems that everyone around me hasn't a freaking clue how to open up and share what the hell is going on."

"This doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Oh, the hell it doesn't. You said something to him, something to shake him up and now he's all hapless and confused."

"This is why no one tells you things, Cyrus. You get so emotional. Neither of us wants you to die. Take a breath, breathe some for Christ's sake."

He leaned over the desk, poking his face as close to hers as he could manage."Don't tell me to breathe. Don't tell me to take breaths. Somebody is going to talk, and tell me what the hell she said to the Leader of the Free World last night. Because whatever she said to him, whatever she did has him all loopy, and not thinking straight. Tell me. Tell me now. I want to know what the hell you said to Fitz last night." His face was beet red, and it the veins in his neck were big enough to pop.

"Cyrus,"

"TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU SAID."

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw Huck standing in the doorway. She gave him a nod signaling that she was alright and put her attentions back onto Cyrus. She stood up slowly, mindful of her belly and put a soft hand on her stomach. Cyrus watched her with horror. Her lips quivered.

"I told him that I was having his child. That I didn't want him to do anything, but that I thought he deserved to know. He deserved to find out from me. I owed him that much."

"And I can assume, you're-"

"Keeping it, yes."

He nodded his head and looked through her like he was processing a vision, "And when the press gets a hold of this story, of you?"

"If that happens, I'm prepared to face the music. Fitz should be too."

"I had a feeling this was how this ride was going to end: with the President's whore running the car off the tracks. Congratulations, everything you wanted served up on a platter."

"I don't want anything from your administration, and I cannot even believe that you've said that to me just now."

"Bullshit, you're all alike. You all want something. Money, fame, houses, cars, shared custody, book deals, interviews, Christmas', birthdays, countless kisses goodnight. What are you asking for? What do I do to keep this quiet?"

"I'm not some cheap slut that you can buy my silence from. I'm not disappearing or going away and neither is this child. I. Do not. Want anything. From you. You can go home."And just like that, he was dismissed, ties cut, immunity over.

Before leaving, though, he did mention this, "Let me be clear, Olivia, so that you know exactly what I mean. Your little confession has given me the green light to go nuclear on you, and I have the full force of the White House behind me. Fitz is strong and if steered incorrectly, he could be a bullet aimed straight between your eyes. You have no idea how big this target on your forehead could get, and believe me, I will not hesitate to put you down like the prize-winning bitch that you are. We are done. You are done. Consider this whole charade over."

When he left, Olivia finally felt that she could breathe again and sank back down into her chair.

Huck stopped Cyrus on his way out. "Out of my way, son," he huffed

"Cyrus Rutherford Beene, aged 59, works under President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III as his Chief of Staff. Well known fact, Cyrus Beene has fought valiantly by the President's side for years. Not so well-known fact, he lives in Georgetown with his daughter and much younger husband, James, right? He's a journalist, which can't be easy to live with considering even lesser-known fact: Cyrus Rutherford Beene ordered a hit on Amanda Tanner in '09. She was pregnant with what she claimed to the President's baby. Her car was found in the river, apparent suicide. Yeah, I'm thinking not so much, right? Had your boy Charlie carry out the deed? Oh yeah, yeah I know Charlie, for we go way back. I kill people for fun, too, you know. I get paid, sure. But it was mostly for fun, and I was good at it.

I'm saying all of this to say of course, that I know you, Mr. Beene. And if I dig hard enough I might even get to know more, like where your little girl goes to school or which car in your driveway you like to take to work every morning. I already know where you live of course, so I already know where you sleep. You don't threaten that woman in there," he said pointing toward Olivia's office. "And if you even think on making good on any threat, I will saw you in half while your family watches, understand?"

Cyrus took a beat to calm himself down. Then, without flinching, he said, "You're a good puppy, Huck, loyal. But, I wonder how loyal you'd be if you knew the truth about Olivia Pope, and how you came to be here?"

Huck stepped aside to let Cyrus pass, and Cyrus smirked, "You have a good night."

So, there it is. I love this chapter, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. Many thanks to my followers and those who have reviewed. I can't thank you enough for the encouragement!