A/N: Merry Olitzmas everyone! This is the culmination of my NaNoWriMo project this year and is a Hallmark worthy cheeseball of Olitz. Chapters alternate perspectives from Bailey to Fitz to Olivia. I am posting two chapters tonight because the first chapter is from Bailey's perspective and, obviously, no one knows her yet. Chapter two is in Fitz's POV. - Gabi xx


I.

2031:

"Merry, merry first of December!"

The classroom full of high-school students quieted down, some going as far as smiling, as their teacher entered the room. Wearing a green, plaid dress and her hair pinned with a red ribbon, Mrs. Stevens was already in the Christmas mood. Her red heels clacked across the floor as she turned to the whiteboard that covered the front wall. Reaching for a marker, she uncapped it and wrote across the board in her flowing script:

Christmas Family Tree Project

A collective groan filled the room as Mrs. Stevens moved aside, allowing the twenty pairs of eyes to read what she had written. Perhaps none of the students were as put-off by the proposed assignment than 15 year old Bailey Pope. The petite teen sat near the back, loudly chewing on a stick of gum and doodling on a piece of paper. Her grip tightened on her number 2 pencil, the yellow wood giving some in the middle, as her teacher went on to explain the upcoming project:

"This month, as we prepare for the holidays, we are going to be researching our families and creating a family tree. We'll start with your siblings and parents and move back from there. There will be some papers you will need to write and plenty of family interviews to conduct. Near the end of this project, we will be making Christmas ornaments for some of our family members. The goal here is to both tell a story of our families and become closer with them."

Bailey frowned as her teacher continued droning on about the project. Mrs. Stevens could try to dress the project up as much as possible, but that didn't make it sound any less like torture. Around her, Bailey's friends were starting to excitedly murmur about the project. And why wouldn't they? An entire month of English classes devoted to researching family history and arts and crafts? It should be exciting, except…

Bailey's hand shot into the air, her face schooled into that emotionless, no-nonsense expression that her brother frequently likened to their mother.

"Mrs. Stevens," Bailey began once her teacher had finally nodded in her direction. "What about those of us who don't know our fathers?"

For a moment the woman shifted uncomfortably, opening and closing her mouth several times as though she wasn't quite sure what to say before settling on: "You could ask your mom for any photos or —"

"There aren't photos, Mrs. Stevens. I don't even know his name."

That seemed to officially confuse her teacher. Bailey sat back in her chair, crossing her arms as she watched her teacher flounder for a response. A part of her was satisfied to see the older woman so thrown - it only partially made up for the uncomfortable feelings Bailey had had to deal with her entire school career whenever a project came up that inevitably called for information on her parents.

"Focusing on your mother and her family will be just fine, Bailey."


The snow had begun halfway on their way home and by the time they walked through the traditional glass doorway of their home, they were leaving wet footprints. Bailey was quick to kick her boots off, carefully placing them by the doorway. She wasn't going to spend her Friday afternoon cleaning the floors. A pointed glare at her brother soon had him hurrying to kick his own shoes off.

"Mom!" Bailey called, glancing into the empty family room before continuing down the hall to the dining room. One look in the spotless room confirmed that her mother was not there either. Continuing into the kitchen, Bailey stopped at the sight of her brother leaning across the white, marble island. He held a granola bar in his hand, crumbs landing wherever as he loudly munched.

"Mom's working late. She left a note and money for pizza." He nodded toward the paper in front of him, covered in the food that had fallen from his mouth as he was speaking. Bailey frowned at the crumb covered mess, slinging her backpack from her shoulder and letting it fall to the wood floor before sliding onto a barstool.

"I'm not that interested in food," Bailey shared, rolling her eyes at the snort from her brother. "I know you can't go five seconds without thinking about food, but I need you to focus."

"This is about that English project, isn't it? I heard you went completely mental on Stevens."

"I didn't go mental on anyone, Justice. The project is —"

"Please tell me you aren't going to bombard mom with questions about our dad again. And if you are, give me plenty of warning so I can conveniently have something else to do that night." Justice shook his head, pulling the note toward him and beginning to count the cash he had found on the counter.

"I'm not trying to go through that disaster again. Which is why…"

"Nope," Justice began shaking his head, hair flying with each movement, "I do not like where this is going and I refuse to be involved."

"Mom's going to be gone for another two hours at least! That's plenty of time for us to go looking around the attic."

"We're not allowed in the attic," Justice reminded her, phone magically appearing in his hands.

"And you've never wondered why? We're way past the 'you might hurt yourselves' age. Aren't you at least a little curious?" Bailey was aware that her voice was turning into a whine, her heart hammering at the thought that she might finally get some answers after all these years.

"If mom wants us to know, she'll tell us." Justice shrugged, holding up a finger as he dialed a number and placed his phone against his ear. Bailey tapped her foot impatiently against the middle bar of the stool she sat on as she listened to her brother order a pizza. Pepperoni, extra cheese. Justice was…predictable.

"Haven't you ever been curious about our dad?" Bailey continued once Justice was done with his order.

"If mom wants to tell us, she will."

Bailey huffed, jumping off the stool and heading toward the entranceway. She would have liked to have Justice's help, but at the end of the day, she could go into the attic by herself.

"And Bailey?" She stopped at the sound of Justice calling her name, impatiently waiting for him to finish so she could make her escape to the attic.

"If our dad wanted to be here, he would be."


Bailey stomped across the dusty floor of the attic, Justice's words echoing in her head. Boxes were stacked neatly against the far wall, her mom's flowing script labelling the outsides. Christmas decorations had been pulled to the middle of the floor - no doubt in preparation for Olivia to hand down the ladder to Bailey and Justice this weekend. Anything to keep them out of this room.

"What are you hiding up here, mom?" Bailey mumbled to herself. She was careful to place boxes back after looking through them - anything to erase the evidence of her snooping. Halfway through a box labelled "baby photos," a loud creak filled the room as the ladder groaned as someone ascended. Bailey shrieked, heart pounding, as she quickly turned to face the intruder, breathing a sigh of relief when Justice's curls popped into view. At least it wasn't their mom.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Um…do you not want my help anymore?" Justice raised a brow, climbing up the last step, a slice of pepperoni pizza dangling in his hand.

"Don't get pizza grease anywhere!" Bailey rolled her eyes. Her brother was an absolute pig. "Mom will know we've been up here."

"Whatever." Justice rolled his own eyes, stuffing the rest of the pizza into his mouth and chewing loudly. Treading across the floor, he stopped by Bailey's side and looked into the open box behind her. "Have you even found anything?"

"No. But I know something has to be up here," Bailey huffed, twirling around and dropping to her knees.

"Or there's nothing up here. Face it, B - our dad chose not to be involved. Mom isn't hiding anything." Justice tried to reason as she began digging through the box once more.

"There has to…" Bailey stuck her tongue out, concentrating as she yanked a worn leather-bound journal from the bottom of the box. Flipping the cover, her eyes widened at the first page as she exclaimed: "Ha! There is something."

"What's that?" Justice was suddenly interested, his attitude instantly shifting as he stared over Bailey's shoulder down at the journal in her hands.

"Dear baby," Bailey began reading, her smile growing as she scanned the page. "She wrote this to us, Justice! There has to be a clue in here. We might actually figure out who our dad is —"

"And if we find out that he really didn't want us, B? Then what?"

"Then I drop it. Now help me put everything back before mom gets home."

They made short work of returning all of the boxes to the spots they had previously occupied, making small talk about their English Christmas projects. Bailey was quick to shut down Justice's plan to solely focus on their mom's family - pointing out that they didn't know their mom's family, either.

"What if we were like kidnapped or something?" Bailey prodded, holding the leather journal tightly to her chest as she followed her brother down the ladder from the attic. She harrumphed when she ran into his still form at the bottom rung.

"You have a journal written to us from mom. And you look just like her, B." Justice shook his head, moving aside to allow Bailey enough room to squeeze by him before folding the ladder and closing the trap door, officially sealing off their misdeeds for the night.

"I was joking, J. I don't think mom kidnapped us. Not really. Even you have to admit it's weird how we don't know much about her B.W." Bailey sighed, moving toward the game room.

"B.W.?" Justice questioned, his heavy footsteps trailing behind her.

"Before Woodstock. We don't know much about her before she moved here," Bailey elaborated, crossing the threshold into the game room. The previous owners had most likely used the medium sized room as an office, but since they had lived in the home, it had first been their play room before Olivia had given permission to transform it into their game room. Now, the room held a flat screen tv, a handful of gaming consoles that Bailey almost never touched, a desk with their shared PC, and a scattering of beanbag chairs and plush pillows.

It was one of the plush pillows, placed in the corner, that Bailey plopped herself down on. Crossing her feet at the ankles, she leaned against the wall and laid the hard won journal across her lap. Justice, predictable as always, plopped into a beanbag chair and reached for a PlayStation controller.

"How are you even thinking about games right now?" Bailey wondered, chewing on her bottom lip as she ran her fingers across the elegant handwriting on the first page, the sound of whatever game Justice would be playing ringing in her ears.

"You're the curious one, B. Just tell me if there's anything good in there."

Bailey rolled her eyes, skimming the first page. It was…boring. A few short words addressed to…Bailey wasn't sure which one of them because her mother had started the entry with 'Dear Baby'. It was a rambling mess, though, about the shock of finding out she's pregnant. Nothing that provided any of the answers Bailey had been seeking from the moment she was old enough to realize that all of her friends had dads.

Until…

"Dear babies,

Two of you? I suppose your father and I have always been overachievers. We have to be to make it in this world. I had my first appointment today. I've known since the moment I took my first test, but it didn't set in until I actually saw you. I still can't believe you exist. Either of you exist. I feel like I'm rambling, but there's no one else to tell. If your grandfather knew about you, he wouldn't want me to keep you. I'm not sure I can keep you. And I can't tell your dad. This would ruin everything for him. Everything. What do I do?"

"That's sad," Justice mumbled once Bailey was finished reading the entry aloud.

"Apparently we almost weren't." Bailey shrugged. That revelation changed very little about how she viewed her mother. Olivia had always been career driven. "We probably messed things up for her…"

Bailey trailed off, chewing on her lip again as her eyes widened, an idea running through her mind. In a dramatic whisper, she asked:

"What if mom was having an affair? And we're like some huge, big-shot firm partner's kids?"

"Kind of explains a lot —"

"Bailey! Justice!"

Bailey jumped at the sound of her mom's voice, slamming the journal shut and wedging it between the pillow she sat on and the wall. Heart hammering at the risk of being caught, she was quick to respond to her mother: "Coming!"


Snow had begun steadily falling, creating a light dusting on the sidewalks and ground outside, by the time Bailey had returned to her room. She had forced herself to eat a slice of pizza with her mother, doing her best to appear as normal as possible. She had suffered through a short conversation, her attention on the journal hidden upstairs the whole time, before managing to sneak off - loudly proclaiming the need to get a jumpstart on a fictional essay. Her mom had been understanding, always supportive of Bailey's academic drive.

After changing into her favorite winter pajamas, a pair of blue and green plaid flannels, she snuggled under her heavy blanket and flipped her nightstand lamp on. Pulling the journal from beneath her pillow where she had hidden it shortly after retrieving it from her earlier hiding space, she began to flip through the book. Her mother had written short entries here and there to both of them, talking about her cravings and her move to Vermont.

"How can you write all of this but not mention who our dad is?" Bailey muttered, skimming over a few pages - she could always come back and read the full thing later. Right now, she was focused on getting answers. Her eyes began to grow heavy and page flips were punctuated by the occasional yawn when, as she was shifting the journal in her lap, an envelope fell out.

"Fitz?" She read, tracing her mother's handwriting on the envelope. There was no address, no last name, and no return address. No clue as to when or where Olivia had addressed the white square envelope. But it was enough to give Bailey some hope.

Maybe she had finally found that long elusive clue.


A harsh light was streaming through Bailey's open curtains when she awoke the next morning. The unopened envelope she had discovered the previous night was still clutched in her hand, crumpled now from surviving what was almost certainly a restless sleep. Bailey stretched, frowning at the envelope in her hand before dropping it onto her nightstand. She found the journal laying by her side and was quick to tuck it beneath her pillow - a task she had overlooked the previous night when she'd fallen asleep with the contemplations of the meaning behind the envelope she had found running through her mind.

Stretching, she scooted to rest against her headboard. Turning her head, she could just make out the white covered branches of the tree outside her window. Tucking her blankets in around her waist, she took a moment to listen for any noise outside her closed door. Anything to indicate that her mother might be walking past. Unlikely as it was, she wasn't going to risk being caught. When only silence and the quiet hum of the central heating hit her ears, she grabbed for the envelope on her nightstand.

"Here goes nothing," she mumbled, flipping the envelope over and relieved that her mother had not sealed it however many years ago she had written it. Opening the envelope, a frustrated sigh escaped at the contents that fell from it.

"What the hell, mom?" The two photos - one an ultrasound and another a photo of Bailey and Justice in the hospital, landed on Bailey's lap. Frowning, she reached for her phone and sent a quick text to a friend. All she had was two photos and an envelope with a name on the front. And she wasn't even sure if it was a first name or a last name.

It was time to call in the reinforcements.

By the time she had managed to convince her mom that she did need to go to the library, the sun was shining brightly against the brilliant white of the freshly fallen snow. Wrapped in a thick, marshmallow coat, she had the envelope with the two photos stuffed protectively in an inner pocket. Her mother's journal was secured between her history and math books, snug in her backpack.

"Bailey!" Cortnee was dressed as warmly as Bailey, leaning against the waist-high stone wall outside the library. "How much time do we have?"

"A couple hours," Bailey answered, linking her arm with Cortnee's and guiding her toward the entrance to the library. "I convinced my mom that I have to use one of the reference books for my history essay."

"We probably could have done this at my house. Or yours."

Warm air hit them as they entered the lobby and Bailey continued to guide Cortnee to the row of computers in the middle of the room to their left.

"I don't need my mom figuring out what I'm researching." Bailey shuddered, dropping Cortnee's arm and taking a seat at the long desk, letting her backpack fall to the floor. Her mother had always been the overprotective type, at least in Bailey's eyes, and she and Justice had been subjected to any manner of parental controls, snooping, and Life360 since they were old enough to own cellphones.

"What are we researching?" Cortnee asked, taking the empty seat beside Bailey and looking at her expectantly.

"I found a journal that my mom kept while she was pregnant and an envelope with a guy's name on it and an ultrasound and picture of me and Justice when we were newborns. If my mom actually she wrote this guy anything, she's hiding it somewhere I haven't searched." Bailey began pulling said items from her bag and her coat, laying them in the shared space between herself and Cortnee.

"Fitz? Bit of an unusual name, isn't it?" Cortnee opened the envelope, glancing at its contents, before turning to her computer. "Where do we start?"

"Maybe we can try Googling my mom? We probably won't get much, but it's somewhere to start. She hasn't always lived in Vermont."

"Do you know where she lived before?"

"I wouldn't even know that she didn't grow up in Vermont if she hadn't made a few comments that didn't add up. I literally know nothing about my mom's past. It's like she didn't exist until she had me and Justice." Both girls turned to the computers, opening a new search tab.

"Alright then. We find out who Olivia Pope is first."


"What are you thinking, Bails?" Cortnee sat outside the library beside her, both shivering as a cold wind blew past. A frown marred Bailey's features, the headlines they had read for the past hour swirling around her mind:

Olivia Pope Confirmed as President Grant's Press Secretary.

Press Secretary Olivia Pope Declines to Comment on Rumored Presidential Affair.

Olivia Pope Resigns!

Olivia Pope and Associates: D.C.'s Top-Ranked Crisis Management Firm

Missing in Action: Where Has Olivia Pope Gone?

"She obviously left Washington because she was pregnant. But why would that make her leave? What is it about me and my brother that she couldn't stay? That she had to leave everything behind and no one could know about us?" Bailey shook her head, pulling her hood tighter around her face.

"Maybe it has to do with your dad?"

Bailey tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at her best friend. "That was pretty obvious, Cort. But we still don't know who he is."

"Actually…" Cortnee sighed, angling her body so she could look directly into Bailey's eyes. "You're not going to like this."

"What?" Bailey couldn't help the exasperation that crept into her voice. She really didn't care if she liked it or not - she just wanted to know who her dad was.

"Well…Fitz kind of is an unusual name…and your mom was press secretary. You saw the headlines. There were definitely rumors going around."

"Get to the point," Bailey snapped, a deep line creasing her forehead as she tried to determine where Cortnee was going with this information.

"President Grant, B." At the confused look on Bailey's face, Cortnee elaborated: "President Fitzgerald Grant III."

Bailey's mouth fell and her eyes widened as Cortnee's theory finally sank in. Gripping the edge of the metal bench she sat on, she stared out at the street and the slowly moving cars. Cortnee's theory made sense and, rather than causing Bailey to feel upset, she felt relieved. She might possibly know who her dad is and it was better than she had allowed her overactive mind to convince her it would be.


"J, hear me out," Bailey began Monday at school as her brother rested his lunch tray on her table, his head turning to glance at his friends every couple seconds. Bailey rolled her eyes at the action - he couldn't be seen with his lame twin sister at school. "And sit down."

Justice sighed, giving one last, longing look at the table where his friends sat before sliding into the empty seat across from his sister.

"Cortnee and I think we've found who our dad is," Bailey revealed, tapping her fingers against the table and swirling her fork around the lump of mashed potatoes on her tray.

"Cool?" Justice shrugged, shoveling his own potatoes into his mouth and seeming to inhale them rather than swallow.

"He's going to be at UVM on Wednesday. He's giving a guest lecture and…it's public —"

"So what? We show up and yell surprise? B, he's never been part of our lives and there might be a reason for that. What if he doesn't want to be?" Justice shook his head, dropping his fork and moving his hands to grip the sides of his tray.

"We won't ever know if we don't at least try to talk to him. Please, J." By that point, she was pleading and she knew it. But she needed her brother to agree to her plan.

"You had better have one hell of a plan." Justice sighed again, this time fully standing from his seat and picking his tray up with him. "And when this goes south, I don't want to hear about it again."


On Wednesday, Bailey and Justice waved goodbye to their mother and boarded the bus at 7:30 am. The same as the day before and the day before that. Unlike all the previous school days of their short lives; however, they did not enter their high school with everyone else once they exited their bus. Instead, they met Cortnee on the sidewalk and handed over both their cellphones, quickly switching for the brunette's. After, they met Kaylee, Justice's slightly older and thus licensed to drive, girlfriend and were on their way.

"You're sure we can make it back in time to catch the bus?" Justice fretted from the front seat, changing from radio station to radio station.

"Absolutely. And if we don't, we can always go to the library and tell mom we were studying." Bailey kept her head turned to the side, watching the trees pass by as they sped down the highway.

"Your mom's not going to believe that about J," Kaylee spoke up.

"Then we won't be late."

Bailey was mostly silent for the hour-long trip. Kaylee and Justice sang in the front or occasionally commented on other drivers' faults, but Bailey remained quiet. Her stomach felt like she had swallowed a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies and she rehearsed her planned speech.

All in all, she was prepared.


"Are you okay?" Kaylee whispered to Bailey from their mid-room seats. Bailey sat with her hands wrapped around the arm rests of her seat, a light sheen of sweat covering her face.

"Just nervous," she admitted, eyes glued to the slightly raised platform at the front of the room. Any second now, she was going to catch a glimpse of the man who might possibly be her father. And she was terrified.

She wasn't sure what he talked about for the full ninety minutes that his guest lecture lasted. She knew he was speaking about his time in the White House and a few of the causes he had taken up at the end of his presidency, but aside from the excerpt she had read on the university's website, she had no clue what he was saying. She was too focused on how he looked. From her seat, she couldn't tell if there were any features that she or her brother shared with the man. Justice could have gotten his height from the former president - they were both tall, unlike Bailey and her mother.

By the time the lecture had ended and they were standing in line for the meet and greet, Justice was in a full-blown panic. The line was longer than Bailey had anticipated. President Grant's second term had ended long before Bailey had entered kindergarten and so she had no knowledge of his presidency. From what she had learned after searching him, though, he had had slightly above average popularity at times and slightly below at other times. Nothing to warrant the long wait aside from the fact that there was very little else to do in Vermont.

"We're going to be late, B. We have to go." Justice frowned the closer they got to the front, suddenly tapping his foot.

"We're almost there, J. I'm not leaving." Bailey shook her head, trying to peer over those in front of her to see just how close they were. Unfortunately, height had never been in her favor.

"I…I'm leaving. I'm not doing this." Justice sighed, reaching for Kaylee's hand and stomping out of line.

Bailey watched the two of them go, stuffing her shaking hands into her coat pocket. She knew that Justice was ambivalent about finding their father, but she hadn't expected him to outright abandon her. Tucking her chin into her jacket, she tried to think about what she was going to say, but the words were slow to come to her despite the amount of practice she had had on the drive. Her nerves were getting the best of her.

By the time she had gotten to the front of the line, Bailey's hands were shaking harder than before. She struggled to pull the cash from her jacket, a whole month's worth of allowance, to pay the lady managing a stack of books to be signed. And, when she found herself standing before the seated former president, a smile on his face, she was completely tongue-tied.

"Who am I making this out to?" He had a nice, warm baritone.

"B…Bailey," she managed to whisper, watching as he opened the book to the first page and began writing. "Bailey Pope."

An unreadable expression passed across his features for a moment before disappearing. Bailey bit her lip - of course dropping her last name wasn't enough. Heart hammering as he finished writing and began to shut the book, she took a deep breath before adding:

"My mother is Olivia Pope. I was born July 15, 2016," she managed to blurt before turning and practically tripping over her feet on her way out of the room. She blindly flew down the halls, operating on pure instinct in her quest to be outside the stone walls.

Outside, she leaned against a wall and began dry heaving, the cool air stinging her lungs with each inhale. Tears falling down her cheeks, she looked around to see if she saw her brother. Instead, the unwelcome sight of a man wearing a dark suit and earpiece filled her vision - one of the security guys that had been stationed around President Grant.

"Miss Pope," the man spoke in a soft, but authoritative tone, placing a hand on her elbow. "President Grant would like to speak with you."

"Am I in trouble?" Bailey questioned, frowning as a stray snowflake landed on her eyelash.

"All I know is that the president has asked to speak with you." The man shrugged, but gave what Bailey assumed to be the closest thing to reassurance that she was going to get from the man.

"I need to let my brother know."

"Where is your brother?" He raised a brow, glancing around them and, just as she had when she had first exited the building, deciding that there was no brother around.

"I don't know. He left right before I met…Right before I met President Grant. We're supposed to go back home together though and —-"

"I will find him, Miss Pope." There was no room for argument after that and she nodded, following the man back into the building and back down the same halls she had practically just ran through. He led her past the room where the president had given his lecture and was still greeting a few attendees.

"The president will be right in."

Bailey nodded at the information as she entered the office she had been led toward, leaning against the window in the far right corner.

There was nothing to do but wait.