Chapter 9

Perspectives

OLIVIA

Fitz is such a bastard. He gets so much pleasure from bossing me around. I am tired of being treated like a child and being told what I can and cannot do. His demands are getting more plentiful each day:

"Livy, you can't go outside of a two-mile radius of the brownstone."

"You can't drive to Princeton alone. I am busy with work this weekend so you'll have to wait."

And finally this morning…

"It is settled, Livy. No masquerade party."

This last demand is the straw that broke the camel's back! So that is why I was on a run this morning. The run that led to this mess. If he wasn't such a stubborn ass, I wouldn't have run, literally, into trouble.

Before I met Fitz, I was the one who called the shots. I love him, but he is seriously making me doubt some things about our relationship or better yet, our living arrangements. Like maybe I need to live alone. That would give me back a measure of control. I could possibly go where I want. Each time I have ventured beyond his self imposed perimeter, he has appeared like some truant officer and transported me back to the brownstone like some disobedient child. After the second time I defied him, I left my cell phone at home in an attempt to evade him. After I drove to the New York Public Library, he met me in the parking deck elevator and escorted me back to the brownstone. That incident convinced me that he had bugged something other than my cell phone. I have racked my brain for the source. Was it my jewelry or other accessories? Periodically, when he has pissed me off, I have left any combination of belongings at the brownstone that could be used to track me. No matter the combination of things left behind, when I stepped outside that boundary, there he appears with his classic sexy smirk crooking his finger at me. I was mad, frustrated, and thoroughly turned on all at once. So naturally, I work out my frustrations with him against whatever surface we land on first when we get back to the apartment.

Cancelling Tim's party as I had envisioned it, a masquerade affair, had thoroughly worn out my patience this morning. Before he left for work, I asked him to make a list of all the people it would be safe to invite.

He responded, "Livy, baby, I never agreed to this party. It is a horrible idea that invites trouble. Helen told Tim that everyone initially thought I planted him as a spy. He squashed those rumors, but it would be easy for someone to start wondering about the validity of my connection to Tim. They believe the car accident guilt story, but it could be deconstructed piece by piece like any other elaborate lie. It would only take some bored agent to get a clue that something is off."

I countered with, "But, Fitz everyone will have masks on. I'll help keep the conversation going about current events or something."

He really angered me when he said, "You are the main problem. What if one of them tries to hit on you? I would have to step in. Who knows what would happen? It is not a good idea. We will have dinner with your parents as originally planned. Helen and Tim can get together by themselves, alone, without you looking on. It is settled. No masquerade party."

Unable to stomach his authoritative tone, I left him standing in the kitchen and proceeded to slam the bedroom door in his face after sneering, "You may be the Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation… but you do not direct me. Be prepared to sleep alone tonight."

He said through the door, "Seriously, Livy? You're withholding sex now? How long do you think that's going to last? You are not using your brain. This party is too dangerous, and Tim doesn't want it. And you are planning to invite Charlise and Lionel too…which adds more lies to cover up. They think Tim is working for me at a museum. How will we explain that? You keep doing these things to expose yourself, Livy. It's like you want to get caught."

I left him standing there talking to the door as I glared at myself in the bathroom mirror.

That argument was the last straw and I really needed the run through Central Park within his blasted two-mile radius. He was right. Withholding sex was not a strategic move. It was akin to shooting myself in the foot since my body would most surely not agree. I made the decision spend the night at Tim's, which I knew would teach him a good lesson.

It was such a beautiful morning. There weren't as many joggers as usual. I left my ear buds at home so my soundtrack featured the birds, the occasional human voice, and my own ragged breath as I pushed myself to jog briskly up a hill and down an unfamiliar trail. I wondered where this trail lead since I'd never gone this way before. I took it since it was never safe to take the same route every day.

I wondered what Tim was doing at that very moment. Fitz had forced him to take a couple of days off in honor of his upcoming birthday and because he practically worked around the clock…at work and then at home. Tim refused to take his actual birthday off. I was planning the party for Tuesday night, but now I had to regroup for a simple dinner. I made a mental note to ask Tim what night he preferred and then to call Mom and Dad to inform them of the change of plans.

I started to feel that runner's high where the pain subsides and you just want to keep flowed freely, but I could only use the back of my hand to wipe it away because I had forgotten my towel. I began to doubt the wisdom of taking that unknown trail. It was pretty dark back and secluded. I made a plan to turn around at that fork.

I began to think that Fitz was right about the party, but I wasn't planning to tell him that. I still had a problem with his control issues. We needed to find a happier medium. I was resolved to talk to him about it that night before I spent the night at Tim's. That was when everything went horribly wrong. I heard voices up ahead.

"Shut up, bitch. Scream and I swear I'll cut you're your head off!"

There was a man holding a knife to the woman's throat. He was dragging her across the path. I knew I had to intervene. I couldn't let him take her. I took a deep breath and headed that way.

QUINN

I had finally built up the courage to see Tim, but I needed to give myself a pep talk.

Quinn, you can do this. Take deep breaths, knock on the door, and smile. It's been months since we've argued. Maybe I should have called first. Liv confirmed he was at home. I was sure he would want to know what I had uncovered. He won't mind that I stopped by unannounced. This is Tim after all. All this extra analysis is just stupid. I know how he feels. I am with Huck. He is with…Helen.

An unfamiliar woman who looked to be in her 50s and dressed in workout clothes answered the door.

"Hello, young lady. How can I help you?"

Who is this? Is this the Helen Tate he is supposedly dating? Where is he?

"Hi. Is Tim available?" I peered over her shoulder and saw him. He was laying flat on his back on a blue mat. A big blue ball held up his legs. There was a brown wedge looking object beside him along with a variety of hand weights.

"Hey Lindsey, what are you doing here?" Tim craned his neck around at me.

He raised his torso up from the mat. He used the momentum to swing his legs from the ball. They dropped on the floor with a thud. He grimaced. Sweat beaded his brow. Looks like he felt his legs fall to the floor. But is that possible? His pecs and biceps have really grown. His muscles rippled under his sleeveless muscle shirt as he balanced on his arms to slide back against the sofa. He propped his arms behind him high up on the sofa and lifted himself up and back. Wow, Tim. Great upper body strength. I was staring. I should look away.

"I heard you would be home today so I stopped by. Am I interrupting therapy, Tim? I can come back." He smiled at me so I had to really look away this time.

The woman must be his therapist. She spoke. "Hi Lindsey. I'm Mary Randolph. Tim, Is this the young lady you talk about all the time who used to be your therapist? I understand now. Okay, Tim. I guess that is enough torture for today. Great session. I will see you tomorrow in my office."

She gathered her bag and her personal supplies. She kissed Tim on the cheek. "Great to meet you Lindsey." Why did she wink at me?

"Your therapist makes house calls? You talk to her about me? What do you say?"

"When I started seeing her she asked me about my former physical therapist. I mentioned you. You really should go back to PT and stop working for me. This is sort of a dead end job that changes by the day. Things have changed. I am here, close to Liv. I don't need your eyes and ears. I can look after her."

He was trying to get rid of me. I wanted to slap that arrogant grin from his handsome face. "I worked for you when I was your PT and I work for you now as your spy. Both have been a complete dead end. I'll keep plugging away, thought. I like my new name. Quinn is much more kick-ass than Lindsey. I am not the sweet, naïve, optimistic, Lindsey you met a couple of years ago. Working for you does have its privileges."

Maybe I hit a nerve. Maybe that is why he is looking at me with such a troubled expression.

"Quinn, you know I am not one for riddles, beating on or around bushes, or bullshit. Say what you want to say?"

Okay, I did hit a nerve. Yes, I have something to say. I love you. I don't care that you can't walk. I took this spy job so I could stay connected to you. But I cannot say that because you fired me the last time I professed my love. I know you love me too. You are such an ass.

"How's Helen?" I said, instead of the thoughts coursing through my mind or what I should have said which was to share with him what I had discovered.

"How's Huck?" Now that made me smile.

"What do you care, Tim? He fits your qualifications for the kind of guy I should be with. He can walk and his thing gets stiff."

Did I just say that to him? I don't care.

"Are we really going to have this argument again, Quinn?"

I wanted to sit down, but just stood there by the door.

"What argument? There is no argument. I fell in love with my patient. He fired me and then felt sorry for me. Offered me a job. The rest is history."

Why am I feeling so violent? I want to throw something, preferably at him.

"Quinn, would you mind sitting here next to me so we can talk about this?"

I hate that condescending tone of voice he gets.

"Don't do me any favors okay? I did have a reason for coming here today. I was researching—"

"Come here, please."

Let's get this little lecture over with. He should have been a professor, or a lawyer, or just an asshole in residence. I will sit down, but not next to him.

"Why do I get the feeling you are saying some not so nice things about me in your head and it is not because your face is giving you away. You have the best poker face and you play the eager, wet behind the ears, squeaky clean young girl so well. That is why you were able to fool Abby, Liv, and Huck, but you can't fool me. What's with all the snark?"

The sofa cushions strained under his weight as he slid closer to me. I could feel the heat generated by his workout radiating from his body. Yes the poker face was necessary so he could not see how attracted I was to him at the moment. I was not going to answer his question. I just stared at him. And he stared back.

When I couldn't maintain my glare, I said, "Maybe I should move on. You said we weren't right for each other because I deserved someone who was a whole man. Someone who could carry me in his arms…give me children…As much as I did not agree with you and even took this stupid job to try to convince you differently, deep down I loved you for it. But it was just an act. You have a girlfriend? Really? You have your FBI job and are really improving. What about me? What about us?"

"I don't have a girlfriend. My sister will see what she wants to see. I won't lie to you. Helen is attractive. She likes my company. We share some common interests, infomatics, gaming, surveillance, and SouthLAnd. Why are you concerned about my love life? You have your own to worry about. Huck?"

I refused to look at him when he spoke. He had a way of getting in my head that I did not like. I don't want to listen to reason. I want to hate him because he won't let me have him. I must leave. Huck? Did he just say Huck?

"It just happened. He is sweet and protective. He likes my company. We share some common interests, missionary, doggie style…"

Did he kick over that table?

"Tim, What are you—"

He pulled me onto his lap and started kissing me, really kissing me. Was this really happening? I needed to see his face, but he won't let me break the kiss. So I just enjoyed it, giving him as much tongue as he gave me. I wanted to ask him about the table, but I didn't want anything to stop this. Then I felt something hard against my thigh.

"Tim, what's that?"

I grasped his face and pulled mine back to stop the onslaught and see his face. He looked embarrassed. Never had I seen him with that expression.

"That is a little development that I don't really understand right now. Quinn, I think you should go. I need a shower. I need to do some work."

I stood up from his lap and began unbuttoning my jeans.

"Looks like a pretty sizable development to me. I'll help you understand it."

"I understand it, Quinn. I don't know how long it will last or if it is just a fluke.

I forgot all about my anger and watched him watch me undress until I was completely naked. I spun around.

"It likes me. Look. I think it has grown, but I think it needs to be free." I knelt before him. He honestly looked scared, yet another unfamiliar expression for Tim. I grabbed the waistband of his jogging pants and boxers. I pulled them down around his ankles. I stared at his manhood as it stared back at me. Wow. I couldn't resist what I did next. I covered the tip with my mouth and swirled my tongue around it.

"Shit, Quinn! What the hell are you doing?"

"I am trying to understand." I pushed him over on the sofa so that he was on his back. Then I removed his clothing from around his ankles and positioned his legs straight on the sofa. I straddled his hips and he cupped both of my breasts.

"When you were my PT I used to sneak glances down your shirt all the time so I could see these."

"Why do you think I was always bending over you?" I smiled at him. He smiled back.

"Quinn, I love you, but this does not change anything." His breathing was shallow.

"I love you. You love me. That has not changed. I'm going to claim what's mine. I'm not going to let you push me away again. You should understand that."

I lifted myself over him with the intent of sheathing him swiftly in one movment. But oh mercy, it was a very tight fit. My descent was agonizingly slow aided by my increasing wetness. I think he grew bigger as I took him all in inch by inch. I was holding my breath because there was no room for anything else. I raised my hips, but his hands held me in place. His short fingernails bit into the flesh of my buttocks. His jaw was clinched and he was looking at me with intense focus. I realized he was trying not to come by holding me still. I couldn't remain still. I braced my hands on his shoulders. This gave me the leverage I needed to lift myself up the length of him. He raised his head up and looked down where we where connected. He pushed my knees outward and I slid back down.

It was undeniable. He groaned so deeply that I felt it before I heard the sound. He had come, but I was not finished. He was not as hard as before, but he was hard enough. I rode him until he filled me completely again. I soon found my own release.

I don't know how long I lay there on top of him.

"Quinn. Quinn." I did not want to answer. I was not ready for any reasoned discussion even if I had some important news to share.

"Hmm." I stretched and sat up, knowing that discussion was imminent.

"Let's change places. I want to be on top."

ABBY

I never thought I'd feel this way, but I miss Liv. I missed the life I had before this disaster I lived now. I truly understood the meaning behind, be careful what you wish for. I had Harrison all to myself, thousands of miles away from Olivia Pope, I wished I could undo it all. What if I would have kept my suspicions about Liv to myself? I would be back in New York with my friends. Maybe I could be starting a new life Huck and Liv. Instead, I was living with a raving lunatic. All we did when we first arrived was fuck and fight. Now we just fought. The first time he screamed out Liv's name during sex, I cut him off.

It was interesting how one thing could push someone over the edge. For Harrison, it had been loosing Liv. For my mother, it was losing my father. He left her for one of his co-workers at the automobile plant. After that, Mom became mean and took it all out on me. How could she go from being a loving mother to a mean drunk? When people did things like that, how could anyone be trusted?

I'll get some peace and quiet today. I was off work and Harrison had disappeared. He left at least two times a week without telling me his whereabouts. Usually, I explode this beautiful city, but today I was intent on finding out what he was up to. I also wanted to call Huck to see if he had talked to Liv about me coming back to the states. I was wiling to do whatever it took. I know he was planning something to hurt Liv. If I could find some evidence, that would be my leverage. That's why I was on my hands and knees feeling under his bed. No, we no longer shared a room.

Why was his suitcase centered directly under his bed? I pulled it back, but it wouldn't budge. I squeezed further under the bed and saw that it was locked to the floor over what looked like a compartment in the floor. I resolved to pick this lock. After I got the necessary tools, I felt triumph as the lock gave way. I had moved the bed and was kneeling over the hole in the floor. I reached my hand inside and screamed as the biggest, hairiest spider I had ever seen scuttled out of the hole and beside my hand. It took me a couple of tries and a flashlight to venture back inside.

I pulled out a tin box and two books. I had to pick the lock on the tin box. Inside was cash and a passport for him only. The money totaled $10,000 to be exact. So he is planning to leave with out me? Pictures of Olivia, Fitz, and Tim fell out of one book. They were recent images given the date stamps. The other book was a ledger of sales. Somehow he is selling the art from OPs underground storage.

Someone had to be working with him to accomplish all this. I took $8000 and a couple of the photographs. I then tore out the page from the ledger. I knew I had to leave now. Since I had to picked the lock to his bedroom door and the door to the compartment under the bed, Harrison would know I had been through his things. After I put the room back as it was and closed the door, I left the apartment for good, not quite knowing my destination.

MELLIE

I wondered how I would feel when I finally was able to confirm what I already knew about Fitz. I thought I would feel better than I do now. I am close to getting a conviction in this elder abuse trial. One day I could be appointed Attorney General. I just fell empty. I shouldn't feel this way.

Joline really did her job well. I know the name of the woman Fitz was seeing and the identity of the man in the wheelchair. Timothy and Olivia were brother and sister. They lived in Fitz's brownstone together, the one Fitz never sold. Joline was not quite sure if Olivia lived there or with her parents, but I know. She lived there. Fitz just hid her well, I suspected. I wanted to talk to the brother first before I confronted Fitz with the news. Maybe I could convince him to tell me where Olivia lived exactly. He was in a wheelchair so he should be harmless.

I thought about letting Joline talk to the brother for me, but I need to feel him out first. I needed to talk to him myself, feel him out like I did with those suspects I ripped to shreds on the witness stand.

I took a couple of deep breaths and knocked on Timothy's apartment door.