Olivia POV

My eyes opened despite my subconscious protest, the light of day shrouds my room. I'm pinned to the bed by a pair of strong arms. His eyes are closed but I suspect he's awake, purposefully using his weight to hold me down. So I shift and he holds me tighter. I know that Fitz has trouble sleeping and it brings comfort knowing that my empty bed for two months brought relief to him when I couldn't be here physically. Fitz fell asleep before me last night, but I still didn't end up sleeping until the wee hours. I thought my nightmares were serious though I listened to Fitz apologize to his son through a dream and it broke my heart. I want to tell Fitz what actually happened but I can't bring myself to do it. And maybe that's selfish.

I play in his curls and then I ruin the moment by telling him it's time to break away from our fantasy. He asks for one minute and I won't deny him or myself that much because I don't know when the next time we'll have the luxury.

While my shirt and pants are on, Fitz sits at the edge of the bed shirtless, in his boxers. I slip my shoes on completing my outfit. He asks what I'm so deep in thought about and I shrug. My thoughts are all running together. I can't fix one problem without another rising.

"What can I do?" Fitz asks.

"Well given you only have-" I twist the watch face-up "thirty-five minutes until Cyrus gets in, you can start by getting dressed. He already thinks I'm planting seeds in your head."

"He had some words for me as well." He sighs "Although he doesn't understand the magnitude of the situation I have no doubt when he finds out there will be more than a speech about the great or good of the country."

"Just promise me you won't tell him unless it's the last resort." Fitz closed one arm around my waist pulling me to him while his other hand went to my flat belly. "Fitz I don't trust Cyrus, and the only way he's going to help us is if this doesn't affect your term."

"I get it. What I don't get is why Cy is so concerned about approval ratings? It doesn't matter much in my second term. And he doesn't possibly think I'm staying with Mellie while she makes her bid for the White House"

"It's your legacy he's worried about. He wants your footprint on the country to be noble and honorable. Not salacious and the butt of historians' jokes. He wants you to be Obama great, not Clinton tragic." I break our bond to put on my blazer. "I'm on his side when it comes to your legacy and if things could be different they would be. But we're here now." My eyes subconsciously fall to my mid-drift.

"Livvie, no one has to know right now."

"I told Huck," I say.

"If you trust him then I trust you." His forehead presses to mine and for sweet moments we block the world out. It's nice here, the lack of responsibility is refreshing but it's not real.

Fitz POV

I have a part to play. I'm starring in Cyrus Beene's sitcom. I'm the grumpy old husband who's miserable but I can never say it out loud it just shows on my face. Through the wrinkles and lines. It's how he likes me. I'm not meant to be happy or satisfied, I'm meant to be a statue. His statue. So when I arrive at the White House through the secret entrance I slip into the residence and I prepare my scene. I mess up the bed and change my suit. Instead of taking my elevator to the oval, I take the service elevator so I can get a look at every one.

"Sir, sir!" I hear along with Gabby's heels clicking against the linoleum floor, she's closer than I'm ready for.

"What is it?" I say.

"Did you just wake up? I've been looking for you all morning. The press corps is out for blood, the rumors about you and the First Lady are all anyone wants to talk about and I'm drowning, sir." She catches her breath. "So I'm asking you to throw me a lifeline sir."

"What else is going on?"

"What?" She frowns.

"There's more going on in the White House besides my marriage. And if you need to address the topic say that the White House won't entertain slander aimed to destroy this administration. No more no less. Then move on. I don't think you should need my help to do your job because if you do that's something I'll have to speak with Cyrus about" There's a tense relief that washes over her but I can tell she wants to correct me for messing up her name but she won't risk it right now.

"No, sir. I just wanted to have your input. Thank you, Mr. President." She says.

The intercom pitched then Charlotte came through, reminding me of The First Lady's arrival. Mellie's been in Georgia for the last three days, opening a school. It's another performance so when she throws in her bid for the White House she can discreetly point back to it and say "look I did that" In the last fifteen years I can't name one thing Mellie's done in the name of just doing it. Everything is a march to the top with her.

Cyrus pokes his head. "Good morning, Sir."

"It is. Isn't it?"I say. He doesn't share my enthusiasm.

"Sir forgive me, but you told Abby to ignore the reporter's questions instead of denying the rumors. Why, sir?"

"Whoever put that out, knows something, Cy. So rather than walking around with pie on our faces, I told her to ignore them. Because if she denies it and then something like the Janine Lock situation sparks and they have evidence this administration won't have a legacy to uphold. We'll be in the ground before we even realize it."

"Okay. Have you spoken with the First Lady to inform her of the situation?" Cyrus says. He wants me to admit to something by asking that asinine question.

"I was waiting to see her this afternoon. But as far as the 'situation' goes, Georgia isn't immune to gossip. I'm sure it's reached her."

"Alright, sir. I have another engagement to get to but I'll see you before your cabinet meeting begins." Cyrus says.

"Sounds good."

XXXXXX

I don't announce my presence when I walk into Teddy's nursery. He's playing trains with nanny Jen. I didn't get to be happy or excited about Teddy's conception because I knew he was created to save an image I no longer cared about. My wife is a Jack of all trades. The woman refuses to lose or be outsmarted and it doesn't matter who gets hurt in the process. She would cut off her arm on national television if it meant we could get a third term in this cell. So it was a walk in the park for her to have a baby that she has no interest in besides for a photo opp.

I want to celebrate Olivia and I's pregnancy because I know this one was conceived with love in mind, not power and control. I want to sit around picking out baby names and decorating the nursery with her. I know Mellie won't make this easy but I will do my best to keep Olivia far away from that woman and her drama.

Nanny Jen notices me, she smiles softly and makes Teddy privy to my presence. Teddy bolts to me slamming himself into my legs. I hoist him in the air and he laughs so hard his stomach bounces. Jen steps out leaving us alone. I get comfortable on the floor with Teddy, he doesn't say much most days but he's really excited about his new train set. So he goes on about how the red one is his favorite and the blue one is nanny Jen's. I ask him which one he thinks is my favorite and he hands me a yellow one. I don't have the heart to tell him I like the green one better.

"Which one is mommy's favorite?"

"Mommy don't play trains, daddy," Teddy says.

"That's okay, buddy because I'll always play trains with you."

I don't even know where to find the anger anymore, Mellie's been an absent mother since Jerry was a child and I thought she would get better when Karen was born but the distance increased with each child. When Jerry and Karen were this age they at least had me, more often than twice a day between meetings. Teddy didn't stand a chance with her for a mother. All of my children deserve parents who want them. I know that the next one will get that.

"Hey, buddy, you know daddy loves you."

"I love you too, daddy," Teddy says, running the train along the plastic tracks.

Heels pad the path to Teddy's nursery. I've been stuck under the same roof with this woman not to recognize her footsteps. Our son doesn't even so much as a glance towards Mellie when she walks into the room. She kneels beside him, stroking his head.

"Hello, Teddy-bear." She says in that ridiculous baby voice that I've asked her to stop using with him. Babies don't even talk like that. "We need to talk," Mellie whispers.

"It can wait until later. I'm spending time with my son."

"No, it can't wait because as soon as you leave here you have a two o'clock meeting with your cabinet" Mellie pushes off the floor and calls for nanny Jen. "Thank you, so much. Bye-bye Teddy." She waves, it's fake everything she does is fake.

"Are you happy now?"

"I should be asking you the same thing. Why didn't you defend us when the rumors came out?" She huffs "You could have said that we're a team, that the death of our son brought us closer together. But you didn't, why?"

"Because it's just gossip for the blogs," I say as I start to reassemble the nursery.

"Blogs your constituents read. Fitz If we are getting four more years in here we have to be secure on every end. Right now the secret service should be interrogating every White House staffer. Because there is a leak somewhere"

"I'm not hung up on it. I'm running a country twenty-four-seven and trying to be a father to our son. Why don't you try being his mother?" I drop a buzz lightyear toy into the bin. Sighing. "I have three years and eight months left in this office, you have time so just slow down."

"Are you drunk?" Mellie asks. It's funny because it's audacious. "You've been in a mood for weeks and I haven't said anything because I wanted to give you space and maybe you would tell me whatever the hell is going on with you."

"I'm fine." I walk out of the room, but she doesn't let up. Following me from one room to the next screaming absurdities at me. Through the years, I've learned to drown her out just long enough to make it to the oval. She lowers her voice as we descend the main hallway, one thing about Mellie she knows how to keep up pretenses. "Please let yourself out on the other end," I tell her when the oval office door closes. She stomps out in a huff, threatening to get Cyrus.

I'm tempted to go sleep at Olivia's but I'll just end up putting more eyes on her than we need. Right now, Cyrus and Mellie are on the outside of this and I don't need them getting any ideas at the moment.

Huck walked into my office cuddling a gray folder against his stomach, it immediately captured my attention. And something about it unnerved me. I'd rather not know what's in it but in the back of my head, there's a small voice urging me to ask about the contents of it. When he comes in he's planted at the door until I wave him in further. He doesn't sit down like anyone else would have done. I think it's out of respect for my personal space. And as much time as Huck spent watching me, I'm certain he knows me best. Huck doesn't give me the folder first, he pulls a white and red pharmacy bag from his pocket and sits it on my desk.

"It's prenatal pills. You haven't been to a doctor but I know these are important. Take one a day." He's right, I haven't been to a doctor out of fear that my father would find out and do something to me. The other night when Huck told me about Rowan's no women or children rule I started to breathe a little easier and then I recounted all of the ways my father has ever punished me and none of those times has he directly or physically abused me. He goes after my friends and the men I love. So I breathed easier for me but my guard is still drawn for Fitz and anyone else in my life who I'd call a friend.

I stick the bag in my desk and I wait for Hucks' next announcement. Because there's always more.

"You were right, Liv. Rowan knows." He pulls a paper out of the folder and hands it to me. It's a document dated four weeks ago when I visited a midwife on the island. At the time I didn't know if I would continue the pregnancy but I felt awful. I hoped she could give me something for nausea, but all she prescribed was lemon slices and ginger. And it helped a lot, I didn't get sick again until I came back to D.C. It was a one-time visit with no records, tests, or sonograms and my father somehow found it. "Rowan controlled that island, no matter where you went he had constant eyes on you."

My palms flood and I'm getting a migraine in the back of my skull. "What else is in there?"

"Falsified medical records and an identity. Quinn blackmailed a doctor who will see you under this name-"

"You told Quinn about this? Huck, I asked-"

"She thinks it's for a client, and she thinks you're mad at her for losing Lori so she didn't ask any more questions." Huck clears his throat. "His name is Malford, besides the stuff in his personal life. He's never had any problems regarding malpractice or violating HIPPA laws."

"Thank you" This takes care of my current dilemma. But it doesn't solve my future problems. It'll be harder to hide an infant from a man who practically owns the underworld. "Who does my father have watching me?"

"I'm trying to find out. But be careful because if your father wants to get to you he has ways."

I would be an idiot to think my initial encounter with Jake was just by chance. Every detail of that ten minutes was constructed by Rowan. I couldn't see it before but he's been controlling me far longer than I could imagine.

Huck leaves me with the folder and I look through it until I find the document on Dr. Malford. Huck was right, there's enough here to end his career in this life and in his next life. He's not a good person but the records reflect he's a good doctor and I'm not in the position to judge anyone right now. This isn't something I can leave in my unlocked desk so I get up to store it in the safe. The elevator sounds, I look over at Quinn and she's still in her seat. Since the issue with Lori, she's practically glued to that chair now. Pieces of this messed-up puzzle I've been building with my father at the center fall into place as Charlie stocks over to Quinn and kisses her. At least I don't have to worry anymore about who my father has surveilling me. Why get new recruits when there's one who already earned the trust of one of my own. Quinn probably has no idea because I didn't.

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