A/N: I have to do something to keep me from election stressing. Seems like this has become my outlet. the next couple of weeks are gonna be hell on me, though, so don't get used to speedy updates.

Here's part I of what we've all been waiting for. Just gotta get through a few more storms in this tale before we reach our rainbow.

Happy Halloween, too!

EDIT: Hey, friends, not sure what's going on with FF right now. I've gotten a flood of messages asking me to fix it. I can't fix what I don't know is broken. This is the "new" upload and I've deleted the "old" upload. Content is still the same.

EDIT AGAIN: This is me re-uploading AGAIN. Friends, I'm not sure what's happening on FF's end.

ANOTHER EDIT: FF is supposed to be up now. Here's a re-upload. Again.

A mess of extension cords zigzag along her father's wooden deck. Olivia holds Fitz's right hand in a death grip between both of hers. She sits on his right side, eyes watching as cameramen and producers line up just out of frame. Her father and Harrison stand, heads together and down, discussing something just out of Olivia's earshot. It's weird for her to be so okay with this level of handling, but she doesn't know what else to do. Over and over again she turns the producer's words in her head. 'A real Jesus Mary Magdalene if we discuss Senator Davis.'

"We can still tell them to pack their stuff and kick rocks," Fitz whispers against the shell of her left ear. "If you don't want to do this, we can stop it all right now."

Olivia nods and her fingers tighten around his.

"You're strong enough to do this, Livvie."

Before she can respond, Donna Graham steps onto the deck. Miss Graham is a beautiful woman with a welcoming face and soft, buttery brown skin. Large black eyes peer out from behind fluttering lashes and a sheer pink glazes her lips. She's dressed in a tailored skirt and impeccably pressed blouse. Much like Olivia, she's petite, yet commanding. "Are we ready?" Donna asks. "I promise I won't bite and if I ask a question you don't want to answer, let me know."

Olivia glances down at her fingers threaded through Fitz's. Her knuckles are nearly white from gripping his hands so tightly. Is she ready? Well, she's not sure. Up until this year, she swore that she was healed. That what had happened with Edison was in the past. Slowly but surely, she's realizing that she never made it through the trauma, but rather danced above it, not acknowledging what happened. Instead, simply pretending it didn't exist.

"Livvie?" Fitz squeezes her hand. "We can pack up right now."

She doesn't say anything. Her gaze moves past Donna, roaming around the yard. They finally come to a stop in the corner, beneath the lone tree that hangs over the Pope backyard. A wooden swing hangs from the thick branches and blows just a bit in the listless wind. If she closes her eyes, she can almost hear her mother's voice. They'd spend hours pushing each other on the swing, trading off tunes, and moving around lyrics to suit the occasion. Even as Maya's cancer progressed, she still found time to sit in the yard with her daughter.

Olivia takes a deep breath in, letting her eyes flutter closed as she pictures her mother's face and strains to remember the tone and timber of Maya's voice. A lone tear slips from her left eye and she lets Fitz's hand go long enough to wipe it away.

"Pumpkin?" she hears her father call from behind the camera.

"I'm okay. I'm ready, I can do it," Olivia says. Her voice shakes slightly. "I can do it."

"Are you sure?" Fitz asks, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Yes." She looks at Donna. "Let's go."

Donna offers up a warm smile and then nods. "Okay. You heard the woman. Let's go." The red light on the camera behind Donna begins to blink.

"Good morning, D.C. I'm Donna Graham with WJLA D.C. and this morning I'm sitting with political royalty and D.C. famed Priest Father Grant of –"

"Please, just call me Fitz," Fitz interrupts. "I'm currently in the process of leaving the priesthood. As for political royalty, that just depends on who you ask."

Olivia looks over, smiling wide as Fitz speaks. He's magnetic.

"Well, your father was two-time California governor and your deceased wife was set to be D.C.'s next mayor before her passing."

"Correct, but we're definitely not the Kennedys nor the Bushes."

Donna laughs before turning her attention toward Olivia. "And school teacher Olivia Pope. A priest and a Pope show up to a live television interview, stop me if you've heard it before," Donna jokes.

Olivia chortles slightly, barley managing to peel her gaze away from Fitz. "I haven't heard that one, but I did spend years on the playground being teased for being a Pope."

"Well, playground taunts aside, you two are currently the talk of the town."

Olivia's nails dig into Fitz's palm. If she's hurting him, he doesn't show it. "Not by choice."

"Not at all," Fitz agrees, he squeezes her fingers.

"Well, let's get into that," Donna leans forward, picking up a newspaper and showing the headline. "Father – Fitz, you're – were – a priest. One of D.C.'s most beloved. We've watched your journey from running alongside your wife during campaign stints, to publicly mourning her, and then your transition into priesthood. I think it's safe to say that your relationship is a shock to the D.C. public."

"It shouldn't be," Fitz says, "It isn't anyone's concern by mine and my girlfriend's." He looks over at Olivia whose eyes immediately fill with tears. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"But you're a priest and Miss Pope is significantly younger than you. She was also, at one point, your subordinate. What do you have to say to people who feel like this entire situation is inappropriate?"

"I—" Fitz starts.

"I have to say that they're wrong," Olivia cuts him off. "We know that there is an age difference between us, but it's not illegal. At one point, too, most priests and clergymen in Catholicism had wives. It wasn't until the Protestant Reformation where things began to change and not necessarily for the better."

It's Fitz's turn to smile at Olivia. "She's right. She's almost always right. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with her."

"Smart man," Donna agrees. "Olivia, how about you. Are you in love with Fath—Fitz?"

The question calls for a simple yes or no answer, but something shifts in Olivia as she considers her response. Tears still brim her eyelids and she the way she holds Fitz's hand blocks the camera from her engagement ring. "I didn't want to be," she says, "I was terrified of him. Of loving him and letting myself fall in love with him. Last time I fell in love, it almost killed me." The tears loosen and roll down her cheeks.

Donna's face softens, she folds the paper and smooths it over in her lap. "You know I have to ask about Senator Davis, Miss Pope. Are you ready to talk about that? I'm assuming that's the last time you're referring to?"

Behind Donna, Olivia spots her father. He's taking several steps forward while Harrison tries to hold him back. "Yes. I mean no, but I will."

"Livvie," Fitz turns away from the camera, blocking Olivia's view of Donna as he grabs Olivia's attention. His protectiveness leaves her offering up a watery smile.

"I'm okay, I can do this," she tells him, squeezing his fingers. "You can sit down so I can talk to Donna." Fitz nods, reclaiming his chair.

"I, uhm, I was nineteen when I met Senator Davis. I was a sophomore at Georgetown and I was considering a career in politics. My political theory professor recommended I get some experience under my belt on Capitol Hill. I applied for a few different internships and the only one I actually got was with Senator Davis." She feels her stomach tighten. "I was the youngest intern on the Hill that year."

"The rumors are that you and Senator Davis might've had an affair that led to a possible suicide attempt. Is any of that true, Olivia?"

"It all is," she says, voice only hovering above a whisper.

"Alright, stop. Stop now!" Eli yells.

"That's my dad screaming back there. I'm his only child so he's a little over protective," Olivia says. "I'm okay, though. I have to tell this. Up until this interview, I thought I'd gotten over what happened with Ed—Senator Davis, but I realized I haven't. I was nineteen when I met him and he was smart, sophisticated, handsome, enigmatic. He had this way of making me feel like the smartest person in the room. He always wanted to hear what I had to say."

"When did it become more than an infatuation?"

Olivia takes a deep breath in. Her stomach flutters. She wonders if it's the budding baby or just simply her nerves. "A couple of days before my twentieth birthday. It just felt like a natural step between the two of us."

"But he was married."

"He was married," Olivia confirms. "Edison kept assuring me that what was happening to between us was right. He said he'd fallen out of love with his wife and was trying to figure out how to tell her that. I don't know why I believed him, but I did. With everything in me, I believed him." She closes her eyes as more tears fall. Fitz brings her hands up to his mouth and kisses them. "I didn't realize he was exploiting me." It's the first time she's put into words exactly how she felt after finding out about Edison's true motives for pursuing her.

"Exploiting you?" Donna asks.

It feels as if the outside has suddenly closed in. Everything feels stifling, close. Compact. The cameras are prying and Olivia knows that this is the part of the story she's never wanted anyone to know. "He would get me to do things – things I wasn't comfortable with."

"Things like?"

"I'd rather not go into detail."

"Okay, why not just do them then?"

"If you really love me, you'd do this for me…" Her voice drops an octave as she imitates Edison. "He always said that this was how I proved that I really loved him outside of his status. A litmus test for a mistress…"

"You were not a mistress, Olivia, he took advantage of you," Fitz interrupts. "He…"

"I can speak for myself, babe. I am speaking for myself."

Fitz nods. "You're right."

"Advantage and exploited are strong words, Miss Pope. Care to clarify what you're talking about?"

"Edison – Senator Davis was filming me. Us. During… during sexual intercourse. I didn't know he was filming me and saving the tapes. He'd set up viewing parties and share them with other members of Congress."

Donna's eyebrows raise, her dark eyes widen and her plump lips form a small O. Clearly, she's not only shocked, but perhaps a bit repulsed, too. "He was what?"

"He has – had – two apartments here in D.C. One where he and his wife stayed and then another, which is where we'd spend time together. I didn't know he was recording me." Olivia's voice cracks and the pain bleeds through. "He was sharing them out. I walked in on a watch party. The things he was saying about me…about us. I felt like he'd slit my throat in a room full of people and everyone was just watching as I bleed out. Laughing as they talked about sharing me and taking turns. I know I had no business with a married man. I truly am sorry to Maryann Davis, but she was – is wrong – Edison Davis isn't a good man. A good man wouldn't manipulate someone and call it love."

"You've spoken with Maryann Davis since?" Donna asks.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself. I just wanted the laughing to stop. I just wanted to stop feeling the pain. I didn't realize I'd taken too many sleeping pills until I woke up in the hospital. I told my dad about what happened. A couple of days later Mrs. Davis was in my room. She told me if I was a decent person, I'd leave Edison alone because he was a good man. But he's not."

Fitz's fingers wipe at the tender flesh beneath her eyes. Once again, he's left his seat, much to the production team's dismay, and he rests on his knees in front of her, trying his hardest to console her.

"I'm Donna Graham and we're going to take a short break to hear from our sponsors."

"CUT!" Someone yells. Olivia lifts her head to find Donna Graham standing above Fitz. She holds out a lace handkerchief.

"I'm okay," Olivia tries. "I am. I didn't mean to cry like this. I'm…it's okay. I can finish this. We haven't even gotten to the juicy part yet." It's a poor attempt at a joke, but it gets a small smile out of Fitz, nonetheless.

"Miss Pope," Donna starts, "I had no idea that – that this was the nature of your relationship with Senator Davis. Had I known I would've told my producers to shove it. I have a friend who's an advocate for women in these situations. She's working on having things like this looked at as a form of sexual abuse…"

"I wasn't raped, Ms. Graham. I did everything of my own accord." Shame sprouts across Olivia's chest at the admission.

"Sexual images of you were shared without your consent, Olivia. By members of Congress, no less. That's not okay and you can't make it okay. As far as I'm concerned, this interview can end here for now unless you think you can push forward?" Donna asks. "I just have a couple of questions about you why you decided to walk away, Father – Mr. Grant – but I think to anyone watching right now, the answer is clear. Do we want to keep going forward, Olivia, or are we done here?"