To say that the press went wild when Olivia and the President arrived outside the North Portico to meet the English Prime Minister was to down play the reaction. The flash bulbs at no point in Fitzgerald Grant's life had never been this bright. Never flashed so fast…

"Are you nervous yet?" Fitz asked Olivia quietly, bending down slowly to whisper in her ear. He studied her for a moment. To observe her was to understand Olivia Pope. There was no trace of her that seemed nervous. Her beautiful and delicate shoulders were held back, her pretty face bore no trace of feasible expression other than a slight smile. She looked up at him and expanded her smile and winked slowly at him.

"Not a chance." She said quietly. She turned back around to face the flashing press corps, still maintaining that stoic Grace that took his breath away. But before he knew it, the sleek black limousine pulled up alongside the Portico.

Fitz smiled as the typical Protocol took place. He rarely held State Dinners at all, but this one was necessary. For Public Relation reasons of course, he knew this state dinner would be a night to remember. He had made the decision to invite Olivia to the dinner without having her accompany him to the State Arrival Ceremony as a clear statement. Olivia Pope was a private citizen, who happened to be his guest. His girlfriend. She was not a First Lady and was not to be scrutinized as such. But seeing how well Olivia was carrying herself with all the chaos surrounding them, he was thinking he might have jumped the gun on that one.

The limousine door opened to reveal the English couple. They were stylish and attractive, very different from his stuffy and old Labour predecessor. The current Prime Minister was a handsome Conservative, with noble lineage who had attended Oxford and Eton. He had a boyish charm and got along very well with Fitz.

After all, they had similar backgrounds, and the press for years had referred to his English counterpart as his twin. His wife, a member of Spanish aristocracy who had worked for years as a barrister in England was elegant, beautiful and exotic. She had been the talk of every G-20 summit, due to her love of haute couture and her deep intellect. Suffice to say, Olivia and the Prime Minister wife would get along great.

"Mr. Prime Minister, welcome." Fitz said warmly, greeting the Prime Minister with a warm handshake. The man smile broadly.

"Mr. President, good to see you, I must say, your date is quite the looker." He joked, patting Fitz on the arm. Fitzgerald then greeted the Prime Minister's wife with two kiss on her cheek.

"Mr. President, you look dashing as always." She said brightly, her 'r' rolling as they normally did due to her thick accent. Fitz observed Olivia greeting the Prime Minister. He could tell that Olivia was working her magic because the Minister looked absolutely charmed. His boyish cheeks were flushed as Olivia made a kind joke.

I had nothing to worry about, she's a pro. Fitz thought happily as Olivia and the Minister's wives exchanged small talk.

The night had gone off without a hitch. First they had entertained the English guests in an informal cocktail in the Blue Room. Olivia was having a great time. The Prime Minister and his wife were friendly, cultured and had a great sense of humor. She had bonded with the Minister's wife immediately, exchanging stories about traveling, shopping and the difficulties of work. She was impressed with the fact that despite being married to the Prime Minister, she still worked as an attorney.

"Well, it would be a little dull sitting in 10 Downing all day, drinking tea. And I'm Spanish darling; I don't have the immunity to it like my husband does." Olivia laughed. It was funny how much they had in common. Their dates, good friends already, carried on a lively conversation about sports. (Fitz thought soccer was useless, the Prime Minister disagreed.)

After much laughter, conversation and drink, they soon made their way into the gloriously decorated East Room, which was filled with round tables covered in fine linen table clothes, elaborate crystal centerpieces and beautiful china and stemware.

"Wow, this is beautiful." Olivia said to the President as they made their way to the receiving line to greet the incoming guest. Fitz smiled, shaking his head.

"Yeah it is, and I had nothing to do with it." Olivia laughed, shaking her head as the guest arrived.

Congressmen, diplomats and movie-stars greeted them. Fitz, the gracious host, was warm, shook hands firmly, kissed women on the cheek and turned on the charm. Olivia was polite, familiar with mostly the Congressional members through her work. But she kept her greetings more formal. Fitz also made an active effort to introduce her proudly to every one of the guest as, "his girlfriend." There was such a glimmer in his eyes when he did so, warming Olivia's heart. While most of the guests were thrilled to meet Olivia, some were not so excited.

Many members of the House, particularly Congressmen that Olivia knew belonged to the more conservative caucus were cold, distant some even ignored her all together.

"Here he comes." Fitz said grinning widely as Olivia shook hands with the UN Ambassador's wife.

Olivia looked down the Receiving line to see none other than Congressmen Thump, waddling down the Receiving line with his very thin, very blond wife. Of course, she forgot all about him.

Olivia could feel her blood boiling at the thought of him so close, but she breathed in deeply, maintaining her composure. No matter what he says to you, maintain the higher ground. She thought.

"Mr. Thump, great to see you." Fitz said warmly. But Olivia could see it in his eyes; it was not a genuine "Grant Charm" moment. His shoulders were tense and his brow was slightly furrowed.

"Mr. President, as always." Thump greeted smugly. "You've met my wife, Ingrid?" He said, his fat arm motioning for his stick figure companion.

Fitz nodded politely. "Of course, pleasure." The woman smiled tightly but did not extend a hand to shake Fitz's. But her eyes were firmly planted on Olivia, who stared straight back at her. This could get ugly really quickly.

The woman's stare was so intent, it was almost hawk-like. Olivia would not give her the satisfaction of reacting. So she did the only thing she knew to do.

"Congressmen Thump, a pleasure to see you again. You left so soon after our last meeting, but I can understand, you are a busy man. You where the proverbial, umm…pants of Congress, big ones, but it's necessary. No?" Olivia said in a sweet voice. She could tell that the emphasis on the word pants had shaken something in the man's head. His beady black eyes had narrowed with coldness. Jackpot.

But he did not respond to Olivia's greeting. He merely sneered at Olivia, his face taking on a blotchy red hue and walked on.

"Wow, I've never seen him look so embarrassed." Fitz asked curious. Olivia smiled. She had gotten them. And she had gotten him good. Thump was a man of pride and he would not take well to her embarrassing him like that. But she did not care. There was no way she was going to let the comment he made last time at dinner, go unnoticed.

"You know there are a lot of women who will have my head on a platter?" Olivia joked. She and Fitz were swaying to the Marine band's version of "Take Five." The whole room's eyes were on them. It was as if they were the only ones on the dance floor. Because being in the President's arms, not giving a care in the world was ideal and it was heaven. Staring into his glittering grey eyes was perfection. He smiled as he gracefully twirled her around and brought her back toward him.

"Yeah?" he asked flirtatiously. Olivia nodded, smiling widely and flushed at his intense gaze.

"Yeah. Because they will wonder, for one, who is this girl, and what is she doing dancing the night away with the President of the United States." A part of her, though on the high of being in his presence was still uneasy with Thump and his wife's reaction to her. A small part, in the depths of her gut knew that things were stirring along the horizon. But in that moment, she allowed herself to take pleasure in the beauty of the night, rather than the small slight of political enemies. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered.

"Number one, the woman dancing with the President is beautiful, charming and is Olivia Pope. And number two, the reason she is dancing with the President is because I asked her too."

The night had been long, the conversation immense, but all Fitz could think about when the evening had finally commenced and everyone retired was he and Olivia getting back to the residence. And luckily for him he was successful.

"Mm…" she moaned as he buried his face in her neck. The delicious smell of her silk skin was intoxicating. It overwhelmed him beyond belief. Her hair, curly locks pinned up in an up do, was beginning to come undone. He pulled the large clip out of her hair and let the smooth, glossy ebony coils cascade down her shoulders.

"God…" He moaned as she ground her lower body into his. He had wanted to take her. He wanted to ravish her. However, he was going to take his time. Fitz slowly unzipped her out of her gown, which revealed nothing about her smooth, dark skin, glowing in the moonlight.

"Wow, you're brave." He said huskily. But she giggled.

"It was a tight dress. I couldn't fit anything under it." She said seductively, turning around and lying on the bed. Her eyes were deep pools of lust, calling for him. Every ounce of her being set his body a light with a kind of desire that seemed too overwhelming to process. From her round, firm breast, to her smooth flat stomach, and then there was her toned legs…

"Well, that just makes things a lot easier." He joked back.

How many had it been? Olivia thought as Fitz and she moved in their erotic dance. She was close again as she rode hard on top of him, holding onto the mahogany headboard. It was too good, the sight of his handsome face, glimmering with sweat in the nights light was driving her closer just as much as him being deeply immersed in her aching and slick sex.

His eyes were rolled back into his head and he bit his lip, trying to refrain from making too much noise.

"Ahh…Ahh." Olivia moaned her eyes forcefully closing as that wave of heat began building in her lower back, spreading to each inch of her body. Her hips were bucking wildly; her hair was wet with sweat. She tried to hold on, prolonging her satisfaction but she could no longer stop herself.

"Fuck, I'm gonna…" but she would not finish her sentence. She tightened around his thick, long member, gushing like a waterfall, as he emptied himself, exhausted and overspent. The aftershocks came, rapidly, her body shaking with indescribable pleasure.

"Mm…" Fitz moaned content as she fell off him and onto the bed. Olivia's whole body was still in the throes. She could not even open her eyes, it had been too much.

She drifted off into a peaceful sleep, her head swimming with delight, wondering, how many times that night Fitz had brought her to the promise land.