Olivia turned around for the millionth time and examined her appearance in the mirror. To say her appearance was drastically different was an understatement.
Olivia's dark waves had been styled in a chic chignon, piled on top of her head while a few loose strands hung down her face. She was dressed in a forest green Marc Jacobs sheath and dark brown Tory Burch flats. Her makeup was a little more colorful than usual.
Gone was business forward fixer, hello First Girlfriend of the United States. She liked the look. Normally, dressed in suits and pencil skirts, she rarely had the time to look, well like a civilian.
Dear, looks like you were born in a suit catalog change it up a bit. Her mother used to joke.
She sighed deeply. She was a little nervous. It was amazing that in all of years of fixing, wheeling and dealing, she would be the one being interviewed. This was not as easy as she would like to believe.
"Ms. Pope, you are on in twenty. The President wanted me to know if you are okay." Ingrid Bateman, the thin and fashionable Social Secretary said, sticking her head into the dressing room. Olivia looked away from her reflection and turned around.
"Thanks Ingrid." Olivia said shakily as Ingrid breezed out of the room as fast as she came in.
Come on Liv, you got this. She thought to herself, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. Olivia moved to walk out the room. But before she did, she took one look in the mirror. The woman staring back at her, beautiful and well-dressed had the shadow of the young, terrified law student who feared failing her Torts final. Beneath it all. The pomp, the circumstance and the circus of her life, she was still Olivia.
"Was there ever a moment, when you thought, 'Maybe I should not get involved with this man?" The veteran reporter asked Olivia. Olivia smiled at Fitz, squeezing his hand lovingly. A part of her wanted to smack the reporter. What an inane question!
But the warmth of Fitz's large hand around her made all the absurdities, the hot lights, the camera crew, the fact that millions would be watching this interview, melt away.
"One would hope." Fitz interjected jokingly. Olivia giggled.
"Umm…I don't think when I entered this relationship, I was thinking about the consequences of it all. I acted purely on instinct, feelings." Olivia answered pleasantly.
However, she could tell the reporter did not feel comforted by her answer.
Here comes the tough question….
"So, you mean to tell me and the American people that it never once occurred to you how improper this relationship would seem to people?" The reporter grilled.
Improper? What the hell? Olivia felt the last shred of unease disappear. All the hand wringing had ceased. The nervousness gone.
"Why would anyone consider our relationship improper?" Olivia asked before Fitz could interject."
Olivia could feel Fitz staring at her. But she did not flinch. The reporter smirked, her ice blue eyes staring daggers into Olivia's warm brown ones.
"Well, for starters Ms. Pope, you are a lobbyist, with an extensive career and background dealing with politicians. I mean-
"I don't understand what the premise of the question is?" Fitz challenged. Olivia was slowly becoming irritated with the line of questioning….
The reporter shifted in her seat, a smug look of satisfaction spilling across her pinched features.
"I guess what I am asking, Mr. President, is why Olivia Pope? There are many eligible women you could have dated. Why date a woman who, most Americans feel is dating you because of proximity to power? It all seems rather convenient-"
"Mrs. Smith, you are a married woman correct?" Olivia shot sharply. The gloves were off. For most of the interview, she had been fine. Dancing around the awkward and evasive questions, deferring to Fitz when necessary. But this was enough.
The reporter looked scandalized. "Of course, what does that-"
"Your husband is a very prominent executive for ABC, are you with him for career opportunities? You are an accomplished journalist; would it be fair to attribute your accomplishments to your husband?"
Olivia could feel the shift in tone in the room. The pleasantries were no longer. The camera crew suddenly seemed more interested. Fitz had protectively placed his hand onto Olivia's thigh. It was as if he feared Olivia jumping out of her chair and attacking the reporter.
"Ms. Pope, you have to understand-"
"What I understand is that I live in the 21st century. And most importantly, I live in America. And while my relationship with the President has been inconvenient, I love this man, I respect him and I see him. Him for who he truly is. Not the power or the prestige. I see Fitzgerald for who he is and what he is. And if there are Americans out there that are uncomfortable with that notion, I'm sorry they feel that way. But I know in my hearts of hearts I'm in this relationship for proper reasons. And no one can tell me otherwise. "
Olivia said this with a cool calm, yet the conviction in her voice was unmistakable. She could feel Fitz's eyes on her, his hand squeezing her thigh with appreciation. She smiled at him and he smiled back.
"How do you feel about Ms. Pope's assessment, Mr. President?"
Fitz smiled with ease. "I feel the same way I felt the first day I laid eyes on her; and that is deeply in love. I understand that people will talk, and yes, my personal life is a bit usual than your garden variety White House occupant. But I, above all, am human. With needs, desires and love. Love for this woman, and love for this country. And if there are voters out there who don't believe in the conviction of us, of this relationship, then hell, there is an election coming up. Vote for the other guy."