Chapter 3
Fitz sits at his desk furiously signing document upon document when Andrew enters the Oval unannounced.
"Mr. President..."
Without even acknowledging Andrew, Fitz continues signing as he grits his teeth (an action that perfectly defines his jawline).
"Must I remind you what's at stake here, Mr. President?"
"I DON'T need a reminder. I'm holding a press conference. Tomorrow."
"Tonight."
"Excuse me?"
"Tonight. 9 p.m."
Fitz still has not looked up to acknowledge Andrew's presence in the Oval. He continues to sign document after document, even more furiously than before; piling them up in a disorderly fashion.
"I CAN'T JUST...we're still discussing military options."
"You're standing on that podium tonight and you're either declaring war against West Angola or you're resigning from this Office. Only two choices, Mr. President."
The mocking tone with which Andrew spoke his title did not go unnoticed by Fitz. Fitz places his pen down on the stack of papers on the desk and with anger in his eyes he looks at Andrew.
"Why are you doing this? ...Never mind, I don't think I'd understand any reason you'd give. ...What happened to you? To us?" Speaking more to himself now, he asks... "What is it with all the "friends" in my life? You're all the same...Maybe it's me. Humph, Olivia tried to warn me about you. I obviously trust all the wrong people. Betrayal always comes at a price, Andrew."
Andrew has no response. He just stands there, a touch of regret in his demeanor. But the feeling vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"9 P.M. Mr. President," is all Andrew had to say as he left the Oval Office.
Fitz hangs his head, sighs, and trembles as he peruses the room. Without another moment of hesitation he puts on his jacket and walks out of the office, the pile of documents threatening to slip at any moment. He walks through the corridor like a soulless man. All 57 employees of the male persuasion greet him with, "Mr. President", but to Fitz they may as well be bolts of lightning. Everything and everyone around him is moving so fast and he seems to be the only one stuck in the same place. When he finally arrives to where he wants to be, everything stops. His closet. He finds himself in the closet of his bedroom, staring into the mirror. The creature standing before him is a shell of the man he wants to be... An honorable man, no lies, no games, no pretending. Standing in front of his tie collection he wonders, which tie is it exactly that screams failure as a husband, a father, a man, and a president? Tucked in one of the cubicles he sees and carefully picks out his Navy sweatshirt. He holds it to his face and plummets to the ottoman. The months of pain, years of lies, a lifetime of pretending catches up with him and he sobs. He sobs into the sweatshirt; a celestial sound seeping through, not quite human, freakishly terrifying and excruciatingly gut wrenching.
/
5 years ago. Camp David. Pre-State of the Union Address.
Fitz and Olivia are enjoying their walk in the great outdoors. She's in her running clothes, he in his Navy sweatshirt and track pants. They aren't running though, ...Fitz hates running. They're at Camp David though, so he doesn't need to pretend like he likes running. Tom and Hal are somewhere close, furtively watching them through the corner of their eyes. It's not cold, it's not chilly; it's breezy, the sun hidden by the whispy cirrus clouds. No cherry blossoms yet but the buds are bursting to bloom.
"I know that's the platform you ran on but it's not all about what YOU want, Fitz. Being President means that you have to think about everyone, prioritize, greater good...blah blah blah..."
"Oh, and you're such an expert on being President, huh?"
"More than you, Sir. I took a whole course on it. My life, 10,000 hours and counting."
Fitz chuckles at her comment and unconsciously takes her hand, "What am I to do with you Miss Pope?"
Olivia disentangles her hand from his and furtively glances around their surroundings.
"Don't do that here." She says.
"Why not? There is no one here but us."
Olivia continues to look beyond the trees.
Fitz continues, "You mean Tom and Hal? They get paid to be present but not be here. Don't fight me here, Liv. Not here. Do you know how many times I see you in hallways, or in some room with some person of whom I always wind up being jealous...and all I want to do is this..."
He kisses her so passionately, she is left breathless. He can clearly see the effect he has on her which immediately puts a proud little smirk on his face. In an attempt to regain composure, Olivia declares, "Fitz, we need to be productive."
"I thought we were being productive." He leans in to kiss her again but she manages to dodge him this time.
Half laughing, "I'm being serious here...let's talk about what being President means to you. A State of the Union address is not about the economy, how many wars we are in or will be in. It's about assuring the American public that they've elected a trustworthy leader, decisive, strong; someone who'll protect them. It's about... well, it's about showing them your heart."
"Then I just need to show them you."
Olivia smiles but she stops him with a gentle tug on the arm. The look in her eyes lets him know that she's not going to let this one go.
"You know what being President means to me, Liv. I want to help people. That's why I ran. I don't want to be my father, disgracing the Office with dirty politics or Machiavellian maneuvers. That's not who I am or who I want to be. I want to bring integrity back to the Office. Work across the aisle. Cater to all constituents. Do better. To me, being President means people first. All the people, even the ones who didn't elect me."
In a gesture of realization, Liv raises her hands and says, "There's your speech."
"Ha! This is why I need you. You can't ever leave me, Livvie. What if I'm faced with an impossible situation and you're not there? How will I ever make the right decision? Without your constant nagging and proding? You're the only person who knows me. Who truly sees me."
"I'm not ever going to leave your side. I'll always be with you, whether I'm physically here with you or not. But you have the strength inside of you to break through whatever you're faced with. I've seen it. In the way you were with your father..., with Mellie! Of course it's going to be up and down, that's life. But you're the President. You make a bad decision? Tough! The clock turns, life goes on, Mr. President."
"Now you're just teasing me. You know I like it when you call me that."
"I do know that, Mr. President." This time she kisses him, curl-erecting deep. Tom, always the model of decency signals Hal to look away.
"Take off your sweatshirt."
"What?"
"Don't ask questions, just take it off."
Fitz obliges. Olivia lays it on the ground. She begins to recklessly undress which pleasantly surprises Fitz. Already half naked, she lies on top to the sweatshirt.
"Make love to me, Fitz. Right here, right now. I'm done fighting you. Not here. Never here. Whatever happens, I want you to remember this moment and know that my heart will always belong to you and I will always be with you."
Fitz tumbles down to his knees almost in prayer at his incredible fortune. He unbuttons her jeans and slides them off with ease...practice makes perfect. He caresses her thighs. His mouth finds hers. She greets his mouth with her tongue and he welcomes her's with his own tongue. While her insides throb at the sensation of his hard erection pressed against her, their tongues swirl to their infamous dance. After a few moments their noses graze. He smiles. She smiles.
"Whatever happens?" Fitz questions.
"Whatever happens!" She declares.
Olivia nibbles on his trembling underlip engendering a delightful grunt out of him. Her petite hand unabashedly finds its way inside his track pants, eliciting even more grunts with her skillful, rhythmic motions. She glides her other hand to his behind and sensually removes his pants. With a firm hold on the cobra, Olivia directs it into her, giving Fitz free reign to foray. From pure pleasure and delirium, she digs her nails into his chiseled back while nibbling on his ear. She glides her hands down to his buttocks, pulling him closer to her, encouraging him to push even harder, ...much much harder.
"Fitz...Fitz...Fitz...Fitz..." The sweet susurrations of a Gone-girl.
/
Fitz continues to weep with his head down, buried in his Navy sweatshirt. He weeps for all the times that he could not, and for all the times he will not be able to. For Olivia. For Gerry. For his country. For himself.
A hand touches his shoulder, "Fitz." He looks up, tears clouding his eyes,
"Livvie?" A tear drops and he realizes it is not his Livvie. It is Mellie. Staring down at him with one of the most pained look he has ever seen on her face in all of their 20 something years of marriage.
/
Press Room
"Is the President declaring war on West Angola?" The reporter asked.
"The President will address that himself, tonight." Abby answered.
"What's the hold up?"
"There is no hold up, Terry. There are strategic considerations."
"Is the President going to address the riots in Missouri?"
"Thank you, that's all the time we have."
/
Oval Office
Standing with Abby, looking at Huck and Quinn, Fitz asks,
"You both know why I had Abby bring you here?"
"Yes, Sir. We are aware."
"We need all hands on deck. Frankly, I don't know who to trust anymore but Olivia calls you her people. We need to find her and we don't have a lot of time."
"We already have a couple of leads, Sir." Huck stated.
"Good, I want no expense spared. Whatever you need."
"Mr. President, I..."
"It's okay, Abby. I already have Cyrus and Ethan covering for you. Go with them. Olivia needs all of us."
Abby smiles in gratitude at his foresight.
On their way out of the office, they encounter David Rosen in the doorway. David and Abby eye each other awkwardly. Fitz walks towards David with his hand outstretched, "Thank you for coming Rosen! You and I have a lot to discuss."
Door closes.
/
Olivia Pope & Associates, offices
As the trio enter the offices, Abby takes in her surroundings and is filled with sorrow.
"I haven't been here since Olivia...since Harrison... What happened to us? We used to take care of each other. We used to show up. Now, we're pretending like we have choices. We don't get to do that. We don't get to run. But that's what we've all been doing. Look where we are; where Olivia is! Where is she?! None of this would have happened if we'd been Gladiators. Over a cliff. Do we even know what that means anymore? Liv left, Harrison died, and we stopped. I stopped. We were selfish, we didn't show up for each other. I didn't show up." Looking directly at Huck and Quinn, "I'm sorry. It was on me. I should have investigated Harrison's death. Huck, so should you have. We fell down on the job. What happened to us? We used to be Gladiators. Now, we're..."
"Bitches? That's what you were going to say, right? Quinn asked. "I don't think so, Abby. We're people. With real issues. There is no shame in taking care of ones self. That's what we were all doing. We weren't Olivia's little army..."
As Huck throws Quinn a wicked look, "We owe Olivia our lives. She saved us. All of us. Now it's our turn to save her. She needs us."
"You're right." Abby agrees. "Olivia needs all of us. But we also need each other. We're the only family we have. We can't just throw that away. Olivia loves us. She'd never hold moving-on against any of us. But she's broken. She has been since "Daddy" showed up."
"Are you saying you're coming back?" Quinn asks.
"No, I can't abandon the President. He chose me. We're way past me coming back. I'm saying we should call more. We should...hang out or whatever. We're family. Family doesn't abandon. I'm just sad it took something so tragic for me to realize that."
Huck and Quinn exchange a knowing look between them.
"We all had our issues but we can't dwell on that. The President said we don't have much time. We need to find her."
"Agreed." Both women.
Huck and Quinn show Abby what they have thus far.
/
7 P.M., Oval Office
The only calm in the eye of the storm that is Fitz's life, is the scheduled play time with Teddy.
Cyrus peeks through the door, uncertain and apprehensive about whether or not he should confront Fitz at this moment. He vacillates between walking away and entering. His mind made up, he walks through the door.
"Mr. President..."
With annoyance, "Not right now, Cyrus."
"Mr. President, Sir, you can not go up to that podium and declare war on West Angola. This is insane."
"You know what is insane, Cyrus? My own party blackmailing me. Vermont getting further and further away. Me here in this place. Olivia gone, again. A lot of things are insane, Cy. Still, time doesn't stop. It never stops."
"Sir, ...please..."
"I don't need your speeches about how I'm ticking or how I'm failing my country, Cy. I am aware. I am fully aware. My mind is made up."
"But..."
"That will be all, Cyrus. ...and Cyrus? Thank you. Thank you for everything."
Cyrus can't believe that this is what everything has led to. Defiance, all the back-alley brawling, the nitty-gritty morally bankrupt stuff. James dying. Having to marry a whore. Everything to be undone for the love of a woman. He thinks he understands. He doesn't want to understand. The moral bankruptcy was always meant to remain in the shadows; for the greatest good. He hangs his head in defeat, succumbing to the fact that the ends have to justify the means, at least in this case. She was his girl too.