To Protect or Serve

Two weeks…for two weeks after her resignation Fitz calls every day to hear her voice or to leave a message: I am sorry for whatever I did or did not do; I love you…you are the love of my life; call me…let me know you are okay. His calls are not returned. Soon the mailbox is full.

A month later the phone is disconnected. Sleeps alludes him so out of pure desperation he sends Agent Larsen to stake out her residence. He returns days later with a complete report: Olivia Carolyn Pope departed Washington, D.C. destination unknown.

Two months later the Situation Room buzzes with frantic activity. Satellite footage glows from the large screen; digital footprint data dances across the laptops screens of various generals, "Sir, based on all available intelligence for Ms. Pope and her associates her probable location is this remote farm house in Virginia.

"Send a tactical team. I expect thorough daily updates. Are we clear?" he barks.

"Yes Sir," the agents and soldiers reply.

Four months later on a lazy Friday afternoon Olivia, dressed in a cool cotton empire waist dress relaxes back against a large saffron pillow on the porch swing with a book in her lap. She checks the burner phone on the side table. Harrison should arrive within the hour. She returns to her reading not looking up until she hears the tires of the black SUV approaching on the gravel road. She makes her way to the top of the porch steps before stopping short. Agent Larsen exits the vehicle to open the passenger door revealing President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. Her breathing and heart rate accelerate as she grasps the white, wooden porch railing for stability. Fitz carries a large box of groceries moving past her whipping the screen door open to enter the house. His eyes take in the open floor plan before placing the groceries on the butcher block island. He slides his hands in the pockets of his dark wash jeans and waits. Olivia enters quietly standing on the opposite of the kitchen, "Where does the world think you are this weekend?"

He looks around…no television, "Camp David."

"Where is your wife?"

"California…pretending to spend time with Jerry and Karen." The silence is stifling. "May I ask why you resigned…refused my calls…never returned my messages?"

"Reality."

His brows furrow, "I am going to need more than a cryptic responses."

Olivia inhales deeply, "When the First Lady gives you permission to have sex with her husband as means of patriotic service to the country, You need to re-evaluate your life choices."

"What else?"

She rolls her eyes, "I am sure that is more than enough."

"Nope, Olivia Pope has more grit than Mellie has ever thought about. So, I will wait for the whole truth," he folds his arms across his broad chest and fixes her with a pointed stare daring her to lie or hide from him. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and her eyes bounce around the room. His gaze follows stopping abruptly at the bottles on the island. Folic acid, prenatal vitamins, a clothes catalogue and a book: The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy. Once the recognition registers on his face she attempts to dash out of the room. Fitz moves in two quick strides grasping her wrist in his large hand. "Wait, give me a minute to catch up." She shakes her head violently squeezing her eyes shut. "A baby…you resigned to have our baby," he whispers too scared to shatter the fragile energy of the room.

Her heart thunders in her ears, "Yes," she responds just as quietly.

Six months later

Cyrus, Hollis and Verna's heads snap forward at the sound of the automatic door opening. The new arrival searches their faces for answers, "Who called this meeting? I thought we agreed to never meet on or within governments buildings."

"You did not call this meeting?" Verna attempts to clarify.

"Mellie did not call together the treason round table," Fitz's rich baritone reverberates from behind her. She jumps before scurrying into the underground bunker. The silence is palpable.

Hollis glances from one face to the other, "No brown sugar. I guess we know who ratted us out; not that I am surprised. She dragged her feet and almost tanked the whole operation before we got things off the ground," he offers arrogantly.

Fitz maintains his political mask even though he is relieved to receive confirmation of Olivia's tearful, remorseful confession. "I will be brief. The FBI agents are waiting in the hallway to take each of you into custody. I am a witness for the prosecution and the whistle blower role is secure. The only option available is to beg for mercy."

Cyrus interjects, "You need us. This is mutual destruction. Do you honestly want to face impeachment with a "turn coat" at your side?"

"Impeachment is not a possibility."

Verna breaks into the discussion, "Big Jerry was right about you…naïve. Congress will exercise their constitutional right to oversight. There will be hearings, law suits, grand jury investigations. You want a Supreme Court Justice calling in favors on your behalf or manipulating the court for a 5-4 ruling in your favor."

"Allow me to enlighten the group. Impeachment only applies to a sitting President. I am a former President as of," he checks his watch, "One hour ago."

"Fine, you never had what it takes to begin with which is way we had to step in and finish the job. Send in Sally," Mellie sneers.

Fitz smiles devilishly, "Speaking with the former Vice President will not help your case."

Cyrus faces turns ash white, "Mother of god." The other conspirators turn to him. "The 25th amendment."

"Exactly and based on the order of succession tonight during primetime I will proudly introduce the first female President of the United States, former Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi.