YOU, ME & US

Chapter 1

Olivia and her crew were sitting around the discussion table, tossing ideas back and forth about their newest client, a pro football player who had gotten mixed up in the disappearance of a stripper. So far, the case against him looked pretty strong but Olivia's gut told her that he was innocent. And ever since she had distanced herself from Fitz, her gut seemed to be back in working order.

"What about the teammate?" Harrison asked. "Didn't he say the teammate was with him at the club?"

"A few of them, actually," Abby offered. "Tossing $100 bills like they have them to spare."

"They do," Olivia said, before her eyes were drawn to the buzzing phone on the table. Cyrus's name popped up and she excused herself from the discussion. She stepped into the corner of the room while the others kept talking, and she lowered her voice. "Cyrus."

"Actually, no."

The voice on the other end of the line was one that always made Olivia's hair stand on end. There were very few people that she was afraid of, and although she wouldn't go so far as to say that she was afraid of Mellie Grant, the woman did make her extraordinarily uncomfortable. Olivia looked over her shoulder before walking completely out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

"Mellie," she said.

"Cyrus and I are meeting in his office at one o'clock. I need you to be there," Mellie said in her usual chipper, bitchy tone.

"Why?"

"We need to talk."

"About..."

"You know what about." She didn't elaborate, and she didn't have to. Olivia's stomach tightened momentarily.

"I'm not sure how much help I can be."

"We'll decide that when you get here. See you at one, Liv," she said, like they were old chums. Mellie hung up and Olivia took a moment to gather herself before she returned to the conference room.

...

Olivia's heart thumped harder with every step she took along the familiar corridors of the West Wing. She hadn't stepped foot in any part of the White House since Ella's christening and she had promised herself that she would avoid the place at all costs. She tried to keep her head down and shield her face behind her side bangs. She avoided eye contact with everyone and her nerves frayed with every corner she passed out of fear of seeing him. When she finally made it to Cyrus's office, she felt like she had made it to a bunker.

"Liv," Cyrus said with as much of a smile as he seemed capable of mustering. He sat behind his desk and Mellie was sitting in chair across from him. She turned and acknowledge Olivia with a nod. After Olivia closed the door, she sat next to Mellie in the other empty chair and jumped right into it.

"Why am I here?" she asked.

"Fitz is..." Cyrus looked at Mellie, searching for the right words. He threw up his hands and finally said, "not doing well."

"He's a drunk, Olivia," Mellie said bluntly. "He's drunk every morning, afternoon and night. He's being mean and testy with everyone. People are afraid to approach him because he might jump down their throats. He's making bad decisions and people are starting to wonder if he's fit for the job."

"Sally Langston has started sniffing around, looking for any excuse to get him out and get her pruny ass back in that big seat. Rumors are going around that she's telling people he isn't himself after the shooting and she's trying to commission a psychiatric evaluation."

Olivia took in what they were saying, nodding slowly. "I don't see what I can do about any of that."

"Make up with him," Mellie said with a desperation in her eyes. "I don't know what happened between you two but without you around, he's completely intolerable. He's falling apart at the seams. You're the only one who can placate him. Lord knows I've tried and he's not interested. He's just...dead, Olivia."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help," she said softly. "Fitz doesn't trust me anymore, ever since he found out about Defiance. He hates me."

"Then make him un-hate you," Cyrus said.

"He made it pretty clear the last time we spoke that he doesn't want anything to do with me. So I'm sorry, but I can't help."

She stood to leave and as soon as she turned around, the door opened. And in stepped the object of her torment, Fitz Grant. His hair was slicked back and had grown to cover the bullet wound in his head. His dark blue suit fit him perfectly, as always, and he had a hand in his pocket. Olivia's breath caught in her throat when their eyes met, and his lips formed into a dry smirk.

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked, as he stepped inside and closed the door. "A meeting to pre-rig my re-election? What's on the table this time, guys? Maybe we'll hire some thugs to stand at the polls and tell them only the registered Republicans can vote."

Olivia gathered herself and turned to Cyrus to mouth, "I'm sorry." She grabbed her purse and tried to walk past Fitz, but he moved into her path. She licked her lips and said with a forced kindness, "excuse me, Mr. President."

"Mr. President?" he asked, with a short laugh. "I thought we were past all the formalities, Liv. I mean, after all..." He leaned down until his mouth was practically on her ear and said in a whisper loud enough for everyone to hear, "I have had your pussy in my mouth."

Mellie audibly gasped and Olivia felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. As Fitz stayed leaned down to her, she caught the strong odor of alcohol and immediately pushed him away from her.

"Are you drunk?" she asked in disbelief.

"I've had a sip or two," he shrugged.

"It's the middle of the day."

"Yeah, well, I've been spending a lot more time with my good friend, Jack Daniels. He's the only person I trust these days, you know? The only person I can trust to be exactly who he presents himself to be."

His eyes bore into hers in a not-so-subtle attempt to tell her that he was talking about her. Olivia brushed past him and she was about to grab the door when his next comment stopped her in her tracks.

"But I guess it was my fault for putting you on a pedestal, huh?" he asked. "I mean...what is it that they say? 'You can't turn a ho into a housewife'?"

"Fitzgerald!" Mellie shrieked.

Hot anger ran through Olivia's veins as she replayed exactly what he had just said to her. She stayed perfectly still, allowing her disbelief and outrage to consume her until she it was eating at her. She turned around slowly and when she came face to face with Fitz and his smug expression, she walked to him until she was inches away. Then, as he waited for some kind of response, Olivia raised her hand and slapped him so hard across his face that he stumbled back. He grabbed his hurt cheek and she stared at him with a rage that she had never felt before.

"Now, it's over," she said with a shaky voice. She turned to Mellie and Cyrus, who were both sitting open-mouthed at the events that had unfolded in front of them. "Get someone else to do your dirty work."

Olivia threw the door open and stormed out but she was in such a fog that she didn't even know where she was walking. She was on auto-pilot as she walked out of the White House and made it to her car. She didn't remember driving home, but once she got there, she walked to her bedroom, crumpled in front of the bed and cried like she had never cried before. She cried over the pain Fitz's words has caused. She cried over losing him because, she knew, it was finally over between them. But mostly she cried because his hateful words had confirmed every bad thought she had ever thought about herself: that she was nothing more to him than a whore to be fucked and discarded. He had never respected her. But far worse than that, he had never loved her.

And that was something to mourn.