DC Intern

Prologue

His voice, when he speaks, is deep and quiet.

"Take off your clothes."

She looks him in the eye as she takes off her shoes, her jacket, her dress. She stands in front of him in her white lace underwear, waiting for him to say something. Do something.

But he just keeps gazing at her with hot eyes, saying nothing until she breaks and looks down, suddenly vulnerable, unsure.

He walks toward her.

Pressing her into the door, he picks her up and kisses her, hard.

Chapter One – The Beginning of Everything

Olivia Pope woke up in her bed with a jolt. This was it, today was the day. Today was the day she began her internship. At the white House.

The White House.

Fuck!

She got up and showered before getting dressed in the clothes she had laid out the night before. She had put a large dent in her credit card buying some new outfits for the summer. Some light makeup and checking her hair hadn't curled in the night and she was ready to go.

She walked down to the train station and hopped on the train to Union station. Be there at 8 the woman on the phone had said. It was at least a half hour walk from Union station and it was a 40 minute journey to there and a half hour walk to the nearest station to her small studio apartment plus 40 minutes to get ready in the morning. She had to be up at 5.40am every morning for the next 6 months. But it was worth it. It was going to be so, so worth it.

"Olivia Pope, I'm an intern. It's… it's my first day."

A tentative smile and hands fumbling to find her ID, Olivia felt a small thrill saying the words to the guard at the gate and again on the door. She gave a small look at the people around her walking in like it was nothing, like it was normal. Well, to hell with them.

This was everything.

She found herself stood with a group of six other interns, all with the same wide eyes as her.

"Hello Interns, my name is Lauren Romano. Welcome to the White House. For the next six months you are going to eat, sleep and breath what I tell you to. You will do 4 different rotations while you're here before deciding on which team you'd like to work in for the final three months. One of you will be fired, one of you will quit and two of you will request to defer. It happens every year, people." Lauren began moving toward the doorway before pausing to look back. The interns were staring at her, dazed. Lauren clucked impatiently and gestured with her hands for them to follow her. "And, we're walking…"

The next week was a blur, orientation, so many people, names and job titles. And Olivia felt like she was home.

"There is a remote, small, tiny, infinitesimal chance that you may see POTUS walking through the halls, most likely while you are on rotation in the Chief of Staff's office. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT speak to him, look at him or in any way attempt to engage him. He is the leader of the free world and you are interns, the bottom of the food chain. He will not thank you for taking up his day with your nonsense. Have I made myself clear?"

Lauren looked around the group with a no-nonsense look on her face, as if to say don't even think about it.

Olivia was no groupie. She admired the president but she was serious about her career. She wasn't some wide-eyed girl with low self-esteem trying to get noticed. She was here to pay her dues, network and to get a killer reference for her resume. Yes, she admired President Grant. He was a great man, a moderate republican and a war hero and he was doing some great things. It was an exciting time to be in the White House, his was going to be one of the great administrations, like Clinton or Kennedy or Roosevelt. And if he was easy on the eyes then that was just a bonus.

An irrelevant, immaterial bonus.

Yeah, right.

She knew some of the girls at Georgetown in her Political Science classes who went on and on about how hot he was, about his presidential swagger, about his voice, about his I don't give a damn attitude.

About what he must be like in bed.

Olivia blushed. She almost didn't like to even think of him in those terms. He stood for something so much better than that. She felt it cheapened him to think of him as a man with sexual urges.

She shook her head to clear these ridiculous thoughts away. For now, it was keep your head down, do a good job and try to keep up.

She was three weeks into her internship. She was exhausted but learning so much, every day was just a whirlwind of activity and Olivia loved it. She smiled at her favourite guard on the gate each morning as she swiped in and then made her way to her desk for this week. This was her last day on her first rotation, admin. She and the other interns were moving to the press office to do research and grunt work for the next three weeks. She would be able to watch press briefings and be present during department meetings. She couldn't wait. That was Monday, tonight was all about relaxing after work with the other interns. There was Abby, a well-connected, waspish, slightly haughty red-head; Huck, a grungy IT genius; Harrison, a slick pre-law student; Quinn, whose Daddy knew someone in the chief of staff's office; and Charlie and Jake, both a bit older, ex-military types who kept more to themselves. Tonight Abby, Huck, Harrison and Quinn were going out with Olivia for a celebratory drink for surviving the first three weeks.

That night Olivia got dressed at her apartment. She rented a studio above a Chinese take-out in Brentwood. A small, airless room that reeked of Chinese food. She got ready in a backless black dress and black heels, hair back off her face and went to meet her new friends in The Bottom Line. A dark dive bar not too far from 1600 Pen.

"To being a gladiator in a suit..." Harrison hollered for the fifth (sixth?) time that night. And they all knocked back another shot of vodka.

"I really wanna dance," shouted Quinn. "Come on, Gladiators, let's go…" She led them all onto the dance floor where they proceeded to spend the next three hours until drunk, sweaty and tired they all made their ways home at 4am.

Monday morning. Alarm, shower, make up, hair, get dressed, walk, train, walk, swipe. Coffee. Work.

Press rotation was going to be amazing. Olivia and Abbey found themselves whispering names as they were shown round, talking heads off TV were suddenly real-life people standing just over there. These were people whose opinions mattered and they were right there.

"David Rosen," whispered Abbey as she spied the Attorney General.

"Verna Thornton," mouthed Olivia as they walked through the corridors.

"This is going to be so amazing," Abbey was practically vibrating with excitement as they followed the staffer assigned to induct them today. Suddenly, they stopped and the staffer showing them round, motioned for them to stand to the side of the corridor. Olivia looked up and saw Mrs Grant, Mellie, walking down the corridor towards them in a flurry of movement. Flanked by people on both sides with a secret service agent following them. Olivia felt as though time slowed as she passed by, Olivia couldn't help but look at the first lady as she walked, an impression of height, hair and colour was really all that she was left with. Returning to herself she ran a little to catch up with the staffer and the other interns as they continued on their tour.

"So, you will be doing background research on these people, and then when you have done that we need you to begin researching constitutional precedents of these." Two huge stacks of paper on the table in the small meeting room and some ipads. Olivia looked at the faces of her fellow gladiators and saw her own thoughts reflected. "Ok," she said, "let's get to work!"

Another three weeks had passed. More Friday nights out for the gladiators. She had watched a real press briefing. She had sat in meetings where spin and coverage were hashed out. Did they win the cycle? Who was talking, tweeting, posting? Seeing the PR team working on President Grant's brand. Buzz for the new bill being pushed through congress. Truly impressive stuff, Olivia was hooked.

But this Monday was going to be a little bit more. This Monday morning, when her alarm went off and she began her daily commute she would be heading into work in Chief of Staff's office. It was all she had ever wanted to do and now it was going to actually, really be happening.

This Monday morning, Olivia found herself, alongside the other interns, in the daily briefing for the Chief of Staff's team. This was the hub of the west Wing. This was where decisions got made. This was the office that liaised directly with the Oval. This was the office that oversaw policy, that oversaw diplomacy. Olivia felt like her whole body was humming with an anticipation, for what she wasn't sure. There was a lot to get through so when Mark, the Deputy Chief of Staff called to start the meeting everyone quietened down immediately. Mark ran through some daily house-keeping before hitting up the meetings main focus, which was the presidents upcoming visit to China next month. It wasn't a state visit, it was strictly off the books for some back room preliminary talks before trade negotiations began in earnest next year. Just as Mark had raised the question of discussing China the doors burst open and in strode President Grant, flanked by his two Secret Service guys. To Olivia it felt as though all the air in the room had been sucked out. A heavy silence settled and it felt as though everything had just slipped into high definition, every sound, every sight. He was taller than she thought he would be. He seemed to fill the room.

"Good Morning, everyone. Mark," Fitz nodded to Mark, "Please, just pretend I'm not here." Fitz took a step to the side, ostensibly to make himself inconspicuous but still with every eye in the room still on him. As Mark began to speak, "Thank you, Mr President…" Fitz cast his gaze around the room. He was familiar with most of these people, lots of them having worked on his campaign. Suddenly his eyes lightened upon Olivia. She was looking at Mark, taking notes as he spoke. Fitz felt a surge of adrenaline shoot through him down to his toes. It caused him to visibly start, earning more than one glance in his direction. He took an imperceptible step in Olivia's direction before breaking from his reverie. Who is that girl? Fitz thought to himself. She was so delicate looking, with large, intelligent eyes and round cheekbones above frankly delicious-looking lips that she was biting as she wrote. To Fitz, it was as if she was glowing, her luminous skin shining across the room. Reluctantly he tore his gaze back to Mark. Fitz felt hot, his ears reddening, he suddenly felt a jolt of liquid desire burn through him. Who is that girl? He asked himself. As Mark wrapped the meeting up Fitz spoke,

"Thanks, Mark. That was extremely…illuminating." He was horribly aware that he hadn't caught a single word of the briefing. He had never, not once in 20 years of marriage to Mellie, ever felt such an instant attraction to another woman. Fitz walked out of the briefing feeling more confused and conflicted than he had ever felt in his life.

Later that day the interns were ensconced in the room, Lauren had left a stack of files going back to the seventies detailing any previous reference to Tax reform. "Your job is to read these and look for any credible precedent that would help push the President's tax reforms through congress." Lauren had told them before disappearing back to her other, more exciting duties.

"I can't believe that I was in the same meeting as the President," Abbey said for the fifteenth time that day.

"I wonder why he was though," Quinn asked, "I mean everyone else seems as shocked as we were. He must not come to them that often."

"There was something weird about him," Huck muttered, "he was there but he wasn't paying attention, he was distracted by something," Huck shot Olivia a covert glance. He could see she was completely oblivious to the reaction the president had had when he first looked at her but Huck had noticed the pulse jumping in his neck, the blush that crept over his neck and ears. He wasn't the only one. Huck had clocked the glance that Jake had shot Olivia when the President had startled the first time he looked in her direction. There was something about Jake that Huck just couldn't put his finger on. Sometimes when he thought no one was looking Huck saw his eyes harden, lose the charming sparkle and his face took on an altogether more threatening countenance.

No one was listening to Huck however, Quinn, Abbey and Harrison had their heads together, talking over one of the files, Olivia was deep in thought working on another. Charlie and Jake were both sat alone working on other files.

"Guys, I'm gonna go do a coffee run, anyone want anything?" Harrison asked.

I'll have a Mocha," Olivia called out.

"Cappuccino," Abbey said, "me too," echoed Quinn.

"Nah, I'm good," said Huck

"No, thanks," Jake shouted.

Charlie didn't even look up.

"You want a hand?" Olivia looked up.

"Yeah thanks, Liv," Harrison held the door open for her and they headed down to the canteen.

The next week Olivia found herself once again working late. The other interns had called it a day two hours ago. The corridors were empty and the west wing had an after-hours feel. The warm lighting and dark corners gave a deceptive air of cosiness. Olivia and Jake were the last two still working, it was dry and it was dull but Olivia was relentless in her focus.

"Olivia," Jake said, "I'm gonna call it a night. You should go home too, we've gotta be back here in 10 hours."

"Not yet, I want to finish this document. You go, I'll be fine." She looked up at him, "I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded at him as if to make her point.

"Alright, night Liv." Jake grabbed his satchel and his coat and headed out the door.

Olivia sat back after he had left. She looked around the empty room, soaking it in. Even now, half way through her internship, she could scarcely believe her good fortune in being allowed to come to work here. This was where she belonged.

"Miss Pope?" She was brought out of her reverie suddenly, a woman she vaguely recognised from the Deputy Chief of Staff's office had opened the door.

"Yes," Olivia replied.

"Your presence has been requested in the Oval Office."

"Um, I'm sorry?" Olivia was confused.

"Your presence has been requested in the Oval Office."

"Oh, no. That can't be right. I'm Olivia Pope, I'm an intern here. It must be another Miss Pope you're looking for." She looked back down at her document and carried on reading.

"That's right, Miss Olivia Pope. You need to come with me. Now," she added when it became clear Olivia wasn't going to move.

Olivia got up slowly, this is going to be really embarrassing, I'm going to walk into some meeting and everyone is going to look at me like what the heck are you doing? God, I am going to die of embarrassment. "Really, Miss, I don't know anything, I do grunt work, research. There's no way I am the person you're looking for. Unless, am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?" Olivia was beginning to truly panic now. What if she had broken some rule and she was about the get fired?

"I was simply told to find the intern Miss Pope in the Jefferson Meeting room and bring her to the Oval. I don't know why your presence has been requested. Now please, follow me."

Olivia followed her down the corridors to the lobby of the Oval.

"Miss Pope," the woman said to the Oval secretary, Mrs Hanley.

"Miss Pope is here," Mrs Hanley announced on the intercom.

"Send her in," a smooth baritone replied.

"President Grant will see you now," Mrs Hanley relayed.

Before Olivia could question whose voice she had just heard, the door to the Oval had opened and she found herself walking in.

The room appeared to be empty as she walked into the centre of the two plush sofas facing each other. The sound of the door closing behind her made her turn around.

Olivia inhaled sharply. There, next to the door was President Grant.

The most powerful man in the world.

"Miss Pope. Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat." President Grant smiled at her and gestured for her to sit on the sofa behind her. "Can I get you something to drink?" President Grant asked her in his measured baritone. Olivia shook her head. "Scotch?" President Grant smiled at her, teasing. "A vodka-tonic perhaps?"

"No, no thank you, Sir."

"Please, Olivia. I hate to drink alone."

"Vodka-tonic would be fine, thank you, Sir," Oliva spoke softly.

Fitz felt his balls tighten a little as she said Sir.

President Grant poured her vodka-tonic and a scotch for himself. He handed her the drink which she took and sat himself down opposite her. He sat back with his legs crossed and gave her an appraising look whilst he took a sip of his drink.

"So, how have you been finding your time here? Is the work interesting?" Olivia nodded.

"Yes, it's wonderful. I'm learning a lot," she nodded as she spoke.

"And what do you want to do after you graduate, Miss Pope?

"Sir?" Olivia couldn't really believe what she was hearing. The president wanted to speak to her? It didn't make any sense.

"Tell me about yourself." Fitz was hoping that speaking to her and hearing the mundane details of her life would make him feel less fascinated. Would somehow reduce her in his eyes. "Who is Olivia Pope?"

"Well – Um, there's not much to tell. I go to Georgetown, I'm a sophomore there. I major in Political Science." Olivia felt exposed. She felt uncomfortable, what did it mean when the President of the United States suddenly felt compelled to make small talk with you? She looked at the door, suddenly feeling as though she had put herself in a vulnerable position. What if someone came in and saw her alone with him, drinking? She'd be fired.

"Do you live nearby?"

"Nearby? Um, no I live in Brentwood. I rent an apartment out there." If you could call that crappy room over the Chinese an apartment she thought to herself.

"Brentwood?" Olivia looked up sharply at him, hearing the judgement in his voice. "That's a long way from DC. Are you going back there tonight?"

"Of course," Olivia smiled, "where else would I be staying?" Olivia looked him in the eyes for the first time. She knew it was a rough neighbourhood, she didn't need someone whose life had been bathed in privilege to tell her that.

"President Grant, Sir, I'm sorry but I really think I should go, I shouldn't be here. This has all been a mistake." Olivia began to stand up and look for a place to put her drink.

"Don't go, Olivia," President Grant could sense her ire and he suddenly felt like it was the most important thing in the world that she not leave, not yet. "You're a sophomore? How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen, Sir."

"Nineteen?" President Grant took a long sip of his Scotch. "God," he muttered to himself, then more loudly to Olivia he continued, "and you live out in Brentwood?" He checked his watch. "It's very late for a woman to be out on the metro alone. You should be careful, there are a lot of bad guys out there. You could find yourself in some serious danger."

No more so than I am now Oliva thought to herself, a smile playing on her lips as she took a drink.

"It's not so bad, I'm used to it." Olivia took another sip, unsure where this was going.

For some reason Fitz felt a pang of concern for this girl, this young woman. Despite her confidence she had a fragility he couldn't place.

Olivia sat on the sofa, looking down at her lap. When President Grant didn't speak she looked up and saw him looking intently at her, as though he was trying to solve a cryptic puzzle. Nineteen! She's a child, you're old enough to be her father. You're too old for her, too shop-soiled. You're married. She deserves more, she deserves someone who is free to love her… Fitz's inner monologue delivered stern lecture on the inadvisability of his current course of action. This young woman, on the cusp of adulthood didn't need him with all his baggage, weighing her down.

"I'm sorry, Olivia, I shouldn't have asked you to come here tonight. It was wrong of me. You're doing a great job, enjoy the rest of your time at the White House." He stood and drained his drink. "Now go home, get some sleep! And be careful out there." He turned as though to signify that she should leave.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Miss Pope. Like I said, you should go home." President Grant walked towards his desk and began to read a dossier on there.

Olivia got up slowly and placed her still full glass on the side table. She felt a sudden urge to cry. She turned and walked to the door, fighting the pricking sensation in her eyes. She put her hand on the door. "Goodnight, Mr President," she said without turning around. Then she opened the door and walked out.

He couldn't get her out of his mind. That day when he had walked into the Chief of Staff's daily briefing and he saw her for the first time, the jolt he had felt, it had woken him up. The world was suddenly in colour, for the first time ever. As if the scales had fallen from his eyes and he suddenly saw his choice to remain in his marriage as the lifeless lie that it was. This glorious girl with delicious pink lips coloured like some exotic flower, wide, dark eyes and smooth, brown skin. She was utterly delectable, he had never seen someone so captivating, someone that he felt so compelled to speak to. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since that day. He felt constantly on edge, like he had a raw nerve. He caught himself straining to overhear if the secretaries mentioned her name and trying to make excuses to go to another meeting. Fitzgerald Grant thought of himself as a good man, he had never strayed outside the vows he made on his wedding day. He had never sought to comfort himself in the arms of another, unlike Mellie who had had numerous affairs. They had come to an unspoken understanding whereby she was discrete and he didn't care. He had thrown himself into his work, Pilot, Governor, Candidate. President. It had always been enough. Until now.

This past week he had imagined himself kissing her, kissing those lips, feeling her tongue in his mouth. Imagined his lips running over her skin, over her breasts. He imagined himself sucking her breasts, sucking her dark nipples into his mouth, would they be small or large? He had nothing to compare her to, she was so unlike the skinny waspish girls of his youth, and nothing like his cold wife, Mellie. He imagined her naked, spread out before him while he licked her swollen, wet little pussy…Jesus, Fitz! Enough!

She was nineteen. She was an intern. And he was a dirty old man. With a heavy sigh he finished his drink, and left the Oval.

Olivia had cried herself to sleep that night. Nothing had happened but she felt as though she had lost something precious. The next day she awoke, tired but with resolved focus. She was going to be the best damn intern the White House had ever had.

At 10am she found herself in the daily briefing. The room was busier than usual and she was pressed against the wall near the back. The meeting was running late, she caught Abbey's eye across the room and rolled her eyes, smiling.

Suddenly the door burst open and in strode President Grant. Everyone stood to attention.

"Please, sit down. Pretend I'm not here." Fitz said to the deputy chief of staff, Mark, who suddenly looked a peculiar colour. The President was not in the habit of attending daily briefings and now this was twice in one week. He suddenly felt ill prepared.

"Which brings us to our last order of business, the research into the tax reform bill legal precedents. Lauren, can you give us a status update on the research?"

"Sure, we have some good news, we have found at least five solid legal precedents for amending tax banding. The interns have done a great job."

Fitz looked over to Olivia and caught her eye. She blushed and looked down quickly. After a beat she looked back up and was horrified to see Fitz still staring directly at her. He smiled. He seemed completely oblivious to the side-eyed incredulous looks he was drawing. She widened her eyes at him but he simply gave an imperceptible shake of his head, quirked his eyebrows and maintained his gaze. "I'd like to hear from one of these interns," his booming voice cut through the thick silence that had settled on the room. "Miss Pope, perhaps you'd care to elaborate?" He raised his eyebrows at her, as if daring her to respond.

For a moment, just for a moment, Olivia thought she might black out, run or cry or possibly some combination of all three. But she did none of these things. Instead, she squared her shoulders and replied, "1992, the Stackhouse Amendment. It's your best shot at establishing a legal precedent. It lays down a legal imperative, a constitutional imperative to make tax reforms in the public interest." She looked down as she finished, her shyness returning full force as she realised who her audience was.

"Thank you, Olivia." Fitz didn't even notice he'd called her by her first name, but it didn't go unnoticed anywhere else. Olivia felt her face grow hot as Abbey mouthed "WTF?" at her. Fitz looked at The Deputy Chief of Staff who was taking the meeting, "Thanks, Mark, keep up the good work," he nodded at various other people in the room before turning to leave. He opened the door and then turned back to the room, "Oh, Miss Pope? Could I have a quick word with you?"

Almost every head in the room snapped back to look at Olivia, who felt a flush of heat blaze in her face.

"Of course, Mr President," she said, and she had to slowly pick her way across the crowded room to the door. Fitz just stood there waiting for her, looking around like this was perfectly normal. Perfectly normal for the President of the United States to ask an intern a question by name and then request a private meeting with her in front of almost the entire west wing staff. As she reached the door he stood back to let her through first, holding the door for her before he followed her out, closing the door behind him.

SCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDALSCANDAL

"President Grant, I,"- Olivia began but she was cut off by Fitz. He stood close to her, almost leaning over her.

"Did you get home alright last night? I couldn't stop thinking about it." Thinking about you.

"Yes, fine. Thank you." She looked up at him, a question in her eyes You called me out of the meeting to ask me this?

"Olivia, I'm sorry," Fitz met her gaze with kind eyes.

"Sorry, there's nothing- I mean you have nothing to apologise for, Sir." She looked over to the two secret service agents standing nearby whose eyes looking straight ahead before looking back to Fitz.

Fitz took a step closer to her, "I was rude to you last night, you didn't do anything wrong and I was rude to you. I just wanted to tell you that you didn't do anything wrong, that it was all on me," Fitz was talking fast and low, close to her ear. She could feel his breath on her skin. She shivered and took a step back, feeling the wall behind her.

"I hate the idea of you travelling so far by yourself late at night. It's not safe out there," Fitz was almost pressed up against her now, he was so tall she had to tilt her head to look at him.

"Sir, why would you care how I travel home? Like I said, I'm fine." Olivia felt very strongly that she couldn't still be standing here with the president when the meeting finished.

"Do you work late every night, Olivia?" Fitz ask, but before she could answer they heard talking from behind the closed door. The meeting obviously breaking up, Olivia looked at him with wide, worried eyes.

Fitz backed away, "until next time, Miss Pope," and began walking down the corridor.

Olivia leaned back on the wall behind and let out a long, trembling breath. What the hell?!

She walked away, in the opposite direction.

"What the hell was that?" Abbey demanded of Olivia the moment they got back to their room.

"Yeah, you never said you knew the President," Quinn said accusingly.

"Yeah, Liv. What's the deal? I thought you were one of us," Harrison snapped as they all stood around her.

"Leave her alone," Huck said to the others, but they ignored him.

Olivia stood facing the three other interns she had grown to consider her friends and felt a sudden rush of affection for Huck.

"I don't know him, I mean, I never met him or spoke to him before I started working here."

"So, you have spoken to him, since you started here?" Abbey quickly fired back at her.

"Yes…no, yes. Once, just one time he asked me to speak to him. In the Oval last night when I had stayed late." Olivia regretted saying it the moment the words were out of her mouth.

"I knew it, you've been looking down at me for being connected but you're just one of those girls," Abbey sneered at her.

Olivia felt her eyes begin to tear up and her lips were starting to tremble. "I didn't ask for any of this, I don't know why he wanted to speak to me, nothing happened. He asked me what my plans were after I graduate and told me to be careful going home on the metro. Nothing happened." Olivia felt so outraged that they would think she was like those other girls, those girls who wore tight sweaters with no bra and tried to find excuses to get near President Grant, just hoping he'd notice them.

"As fascinating as this little drama you've got happening here is, we have work to do so perhaps you could all continue this in your own time?" Charlie spoke in a level voice but it cut through the room and hit its mark.

Olivia moved away from the other interns, sat down and began working. Huck followed her and took a seat at her table. The others drifted over to a separate table where they proceeded to shoot Olivia jealous looks as they whispered amongst themselves. At 6pm they got up to leave. Olivia had heard them planning to go get pizza together but had kept her head down, refusing to look at them.

"Should we ask Olivia to come with us?" Quinn whispered, loud enough for Olivia to hear.

"No, she's probably going to be working here late again," Abbey said slyly.

"Hey, Huck, you coming?" Harrison called over.

"Nope," Huck said without looking up.

"Jake, Charlie, you in?" Harrison asked.

"Yeah, yeah, why not," Jake said as he and Charlie got up to leave. "Goodnight, Olivia. See you tomorrow," Jake said to her as he passed her table. Olivia smiled up at him.

After the door shut behind them, Olivia put her pen down and held her head in her hands. The tears that she had been holding back all day started to spill and as she sobbed Huck simply sat next to her, saying nothing. His solid presence lending her silent comfort.

The next night was Friday night. Olivia was working late again. Lauren had been at her all morning, and had given her a ridiculous work load as an unspoken punishment for being noticed by the President yesterday. Olivia felt as though she had done something wrong, even though she knew all she had done was speak to the President when he had asked her to. Everyone had continued to give her the cold shoulder today and when they left work earlier tonight not one of them asked her if she was coming out with them. Abbey hadn't looked her in the eye all day and Quinn, bubbly, lovely Quinn completely blanked her from the moment she had got there. Thank God, the President hadn't come to today's briefing. Olivia had spent the whole briefing saying a silent prayer that he wouldn't turn up. Olivia sighed, she hadn't asked for this, but now whenever she thought of the President, of the look he had given her in the briefing yesterday she felt herself grow hot, felt an unfamiliar throbbing between her legs. She knew part of the reason why she hadn't gone home yet tonight was because she was waiting, waiting to see if he would summon her to him again. She sighed, it was almost midnight. She'd have to think about heading home soon to her cold bed in that grim room she rented. She continued reading until a few moments later, "Miss Pope? Follow me, please."

Olivia grabbed her purse and followed the woman down the corridors to the Oval.

"He's expecting you, you can go on in," Mrs Hanley said to her.

Olivia walked into the Oval and saw Fitz seated at his desk.

Fitz picked up the phone, "That will be all, Mrs Hanley, you can go home now," and he looked at Olivia.

"Hi," Fitz smiled at her, that special smile with kind eyes he seemed to keep especially for her.

"Hi," Olivia replied.

"Sit down," Fitz said to her as he walked to the drinks tray and fixed her a Vodka tonic and himself a Scotch before handing it to her.

"Working late again?" Fitz asked her as he sat down next to her on the sofa, "shouldn't you be out in some bar right about now?" Fitz knew that for most staffers Friday night was the one where they let their hair down.

"Not tonight," Olivia smiled sadly, taking a long sip of her drink.

"Oh?" Fitz could see she was upset about something and it just tore him up to see her big eyes so downcast.

Olivia looked up at him, "The other interns, they, they think that we're, that I'm…with you to get ahead. They think I've been working late, hoping to get myself noticed. They think I'm one of those girls," tears began to roll down Olivia's face. "I worked so, so hard to get myself here and now…"

Fitz sat there, aghast. He hadn't thought about the consequences for Olivia when he noticed her that first time. He wasn't thinking about what the other staff would make of his interest in her when he called her out in the briefing yesterday.

"Olivia, I'm sorry. I should never have put you in this position," he said to her softly. "I just can't seem to stay away from you." He brushed her hair from her face and wiped her tears before pulling her against his chest and wrapping his big arms around her. "Do you want me to leave you alone? Have I been making you feel uncomfortable?" He looked down to see her peeping up at him.

"No, no it's the opposite of uncomfortable." Olivia whispered. "I feel so safe here," she paused, "with you." She buried her face against his chest again.

Fitz felt confused, he couldn't understand why he was so drawn to Olivia. Only that she was intelligent and brave and suddenly so, so precious to him. He couldn't imagine a world where she wasn't in his life, but it was clear that he couldn't continue to show her any obvious favouritism. Her career would be defined by her relationship with him. It wouldn't be fair to her if everyone thought she had slept her way to the top. "I'm so sorry, Olivia. I shouldn't have been so obvious. It won't happen again."

Olivia was confused by what Fitz meant. Did he mean he would end whatever this was? She hoped not. It was impossible not to feel flattered that the most powerful man in the world wanted to get to know her but Olivia was well aware of her short comings. Why would he want someone as inexperienced as her in his life? Maybe this was his M.O? Maybe he liked to seduce the interns? Olivia hoped she was wrong. She felt a safety in his arms she'd never felt before.

"President Grant, I, I need to go home. It's late." Olivia pushed herself up.

Fitz let her get up and then picked up his phone. "Yeah, I'm gonna need a car at the staff entrance in 10. No, no. Ok." Fitz hung up and looked over to her, "You're not going home alone tonight, there's a car coming to take you in 10 minutes. It's not safe for you to travel alone." He walked towards her, stalking her. Olivia felt rooted to the spot. He got closer and closer to her. Fitz stood right in front of her, the differences in their height forcing her to look up at him. He put his hands on her waist and said, "I'm sorry the other interns were mean to you but I don't think I can stay away from you now I've found you." As he whispered the last word he leant down and ghosted his lips over hers, unsure how she would react. When she didn't try to move away he pressed his lips to hers. Olivia stood stock still as he deepened his kiss, his hands gripping her waist more forcefully, his tongue lapping against her closed lips. She sighed and as she let did Fitz slipped his tongue into her mouth. A moan escaped her and she moved her hands up to his back as Fitz slid his around to cup her ass.

"Mmmm, you need to go before I lay you out and fuck you on my desk," Fitz managed to say in between kisses.

Olivia felt a deep clench inside at his words, her pussy was throbbing and she felt almost powerless to stop. She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach and she felt a heady thrill pass through her at the physical evidence of his desire for her. If he wanted her she wasn't going to stop him, even if it meant losing her virginity in a quick fuck on his desk. She wanted him deeply, enough that the usual concerns that had always stopped her crossing that line in the past suddenly didn't matter. In his eyes, she felt like she lit the room.

Fitz reluctantly broke off their kiss, "you really need to go," he said. He pushed himself back and gave her a hot look. "I just can't seem to control myself around you," he said.

Olivia bit her lip and smiled, "I don't mind, Mr President," she said. She began to move to the door.

"Olivia," Fitz began, "I'll try to be more discrete, but I'm going to need to keep seeing you. We can't stop." He sounded so certain.

"No, we can't stop," was all Olivia said before she walked out of the door to the staff entrance.

Later, as Olivia sat in the nicest car she had ever been in, in her life, she smiled as she remembered the feel of his lips on hers. How his hands had felt around her waist, how she had felt him harden against her stomach. The car was only a couple of blocks from her apartment now. She leant forward, "You can just drop me here, I'll walk the rest of the way."

"My orders are to see you to your door, Ma'am," the driver called back to her.

Olivia almost felt embarrassed that the driver was going to see her crummy apartment. She hoped he wouldn't tell the president.

A/N: Apologies for posting this story out of order, I wrote this before Air Force One, which is probably chapter 4 or 5 of this story. Possibly more to follow? I've tried to throw in some Americanisms but, as a Brit, if I've dropped any clangers please do let me know.