I know that some of you are waiting for an update on my other story, and I promise you all that I'm working on it. Thursday's episode did things to me, bad things. I'm in a bad OLITZ place right now, and I decided to use this one shot to get myself into a better place. This is what I wish happened during 3x12.

Olivia made her way into the hall, flashing apologetic glances to Jake and Tom, both of whom had heard her epic blowout with Fitz.

Standing there, even after the argument had concluded, she couldn't quite pinpoint how it had started.

They had spent the last 12 hours alone together in a hotel room, having what could only me described as a mind blowing sex marathon. Images from their night together flashed through her mind, causing her skin to feel like it was on fire.

Fitz was only steps behind her, shrugging on his jacket as he left their room. He looked up to find Jake eying Olivia, looking as if he wanted to pounce on her the moment Fitz walked away. He had just managed to calm down, and he could feel the rage beginning to flow through his veins. Olivia glanced at Fitz, feeling tension radiating off of his body.

Olivia was well aware that the argument was far from over; knowing that they will have the same argument over and over again throughout the campaign. Fitz had yelled about not trusting Jake and Olivia had screamed that that Jake was to save her from the stares and whispers. She hadn't told him the complete truth, but she didn't feel like the needed to know the truth while he was being such a jealous. She had told Fitz that Jake wasn't to protect him and it wasn't; it was to protect them. What they have together is the most important thing in her life and Jake is the only way that days like this would be possible. She was so frustrated. Why couldn't he see that? How could he possibly think that Jake was competition? As far as Olivia was concerned, their love had a no competition clause. They owned each other, they completed each other, they were each others oxygen and reason to breath. Fitz could not exist without Olivia, nor could Olivia exist without Fitz. She exhaled, hoping to find a way to assure Fitz that she was his, and only his.

"You should go first, Jake and I will follow in five."

"Alright," he mumbled, still visibly on edge from their argument.

"When you talk to the donors, hit on the economy, jobs, housing and don't trash Langston. You want to appear gracious – above the fray," she said giving him some last minute advice, causing him to stop and face her.

He watches as she rolls her neck, trying to rid her body of the tension. He stands for a moment, as if he was acknowledging what she had just said. His eyes lifted, and when they met hers, the outside world no longer existed. He flashed her a grin that she knew all to well, taking slow purposeful steps toward her. Instinctively, she took a step back, knowing that if she had to give that smile a name, it would be called the "I'm going to make you cum so hard that you might pass out smile." That smile alone could leave her in desperate need of a new pair of underwear. She could feel chills radiating through her body, as she tried to fight her arousal, knowing that they don't have time for this.

Fitz was the first to break their eye contact, shooting Ballard his best "Fuck off" glare. His steps toward her were brisk and determined, leaving her surprised when he brushed past her. "Is he expecting me to follow him?" she wondered to herself, never questioning for a second that she would follow that man anywhere. As if he were answering her question, he grabbed her hand, dragging her back into their room and kicking the door closed behind them.

"We've discussed blocking off the floors above and below on domestic trips, but nothing has been decided," Tom stated, continuing their conversation from earlier, knowing that a conversation would be helpful in ignoring the sounds that would be coming from the hotel room.

Jake nodded, still leaning into the wall directly next to Fitz's door. Tom struggled to remain impassive, knowing that Jake was going to be front and center for every scream, grunt and moan that would come from the other side of that door. He had spent enough time around Olivia and Fitz to know that Fitz's signature smile meant that there was no way that those two were making it to a bed. As if on cue, a loud thump came from directly behind Jake, the vibrations causing him to move away from the wall. Fitz and Liv had barely closed the door before he had her against the wall , quickly ridding her of her clothes and attacking his favorite areas with his mouth.

"Aren't you going to go in there?" Jake asked, surprised that the secret service hadn't sprung into action after hearing such a sound.

"Not a chance," Tom replied evenly. "The President is fine."

"Ms. Pope is in good hands too," Hal added. "We should all hear just how fine they both are in a minute or two."

As if on cue, the sound of Olivia moaning Fitz's name flooded through the walls and into the hallway.

Jake had only slept with Olivia once, but he had never heard sounds like that come from her mouth.

-Crash-

Jake raised an eyebrow, posing the question as to whether the sound of glass shattering was enough enter that room.

Tom shook his head. "We set up a private account when we travel," Tom began, "to pay for any lamps, vases, or televisions that may be damaged during the President's stay."

"Um should I?" Jake asked uncomfortably, pointing toward the elevator.

" I wouldn't," Tom smirked. "When their discussions happen so close to the door, it usually doesn't take very long."

"They are probably discussing how he could be more appealing to female voters," Hal added, Tom never letting up on his poker face.

"Oh God. Fitz. I'm so fucking close. Don't stop." Jake straightened, feeling as though Olivia's screams were on surround sound in his head. He looked up with relief when he heard her fall apart on the other side of the wall. At least this torture was over and he would be able to get on with his night.

"Baby. Stop. I can't go again," he heard her cry urgently, followed by a low rumble of Fitz's voice, although he was unable to make out what was being said.

And then, it started again. Jake attempted to make small talk with Tom, trying to drown out Olivia's moans and window shattering screams. It wasn't working. He wasn't sure that a fog horn could drown out the sounds coming from that room.

She screamed a strangled, "Oh Fitz," before shattering for the second time.

"The walls must literally be paper thin," he thought to himself. Sound proofing the rooms should be a top priority of this hotel.

He froze hearing Olivia's voice, quiet and husky, but clear through the hotel wall. "I need you inside of me Baby. Please," she begged, her voice sounding nothing like the Olivia knew. Her voice was seductive and so full of need that if it was anyone else he was listening to, it would have been a major turn on.

Thump …... Thump... Thump …...Thump

Jake couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take listening to her being pleasured by another man. He couldn't listen to her long torturous moans anymore.

"The shell of this building is original, dating back to the 1800s. It made the security sweep difficult," Tom continued as if he we wasn't hearing the sounds that were driving Jake to slow insanity.

"It seems well built," Jake said, trying to focus on their conversation.

"It's got to be. Otherwise, he would have pounded her straight through that wall." Hal observed and Tom let out an uncharacteristic chuckle.

The thumping was so rapid that Jake couldn't distinguish where one thump began and the other ended.

"Who's pussy is this Sweet Baby?" Fitz demanded loudly.

"Yours," she moaned back. "Only yours. Always, only yours," her voice sounding frantic with need.

"That's right, only fucking mine. You're so fucking tight," Fitz growled loudly between primal grunts, causing Jake to clench his jaw. Fitz was fucking her to claim her, making sure that he heard every minute of it on the other side of the hall.

"Don't go yet baby," he demanded. "Wait for me."

"I can't," she managed, trying to hold off her impending orgasm.

"Let go for me Sweet Baby," he commanded as their sounds began to mingle together through the hallway leaving Jake praying that round 2 wasn't going to start.

Everyone's attention turned to the elevator, as the doors slid open and Cyrus stepped out onto the floor.

Jake had never in his life been inclined to kiss a man, but Cyrus might have been that exception. Jake couldn't help but to smile that Cyrus Beene would be crushing any hope of a round 2.

"They're late. Where are they?" Cyrus questioned Tom, obviously irritated.

Tom nodded in the direction of the door.

Cyrus pounded on the door, as though he might break it down. "Who the hell let them in there together?" he complained. "They are worse than a couple of horny teenagers."

"Who is is?" Fitz called up from where he and Liv were collapsed on the floor. He knew exactly who it was, almost able to visualize a very angry Cyrus on the other side of the door, with a dark purple vein bulging from his neck.

"It is the man that is going to come in there and drag you off of her if you don't get dressed and get out here."

Liv began to shift next to him, already scanning around her for her discarded clothes.

"You're going to have to wait Cy. I have the love of my life naked and laying next to me on the floor. I don't think anything going on down stairs will be nearly as stimulating," he said before leaning over and leaving a trail of kisses from her stomach to her right breast before taking her nipple into his mouth.

Olivia playfully swatted him away, as Cyrus went ballistic on the other side of the door.

"If you are a good president, and raise lots of money downstairs, we could continue this later," she teased, pulling his mouth down to hers for a quick kiss.

"Go jump in the shower, and I'll figure out your clothes," she instructed, turning back into his campaign manager.

"I'm not showering," he said matter-of-factly as he lifted her from the ground. He carried her into the bathroom and set her down on the counter top.

"You can't go down there like that, Fitz. You smell like sex."

"I am. I'm going to," he said confidently, with the lopsided grin that drove her wild. "I'm going down there smelling like sex and you." he said running a washcloth under the water and beginning to press it gently between her legs.

"Fitz," she began to argue.

"I'm going down there with you all over me Liv, and you are going down there with me inside of you."

She looked up at him, knowing that this was about Jake. It was what he needed to allow this farce to continue. "Okay," she said, her eyes connected with his.

"OK?" he replied, surprised that he was able to convince her so easily.

"OK. If that's what you need, we'll do it. But you need to get dressed and get down there before Cyrus breaks down the door," she said giving him one last kiss before hopping down to retrieve their clothes.

They quickly dressed, occasionally brushing against each other or leaning in for a quick kiss. He managed to make himself presentable quickly, opting to leave their room once he was ready, leaving her to redo her makeup.

He opened the door finding himself face to face with a furious Cyrus.

"Ready to go Cy," he said brightly, looking like a little boy who had just eaten all of the cookies from the cookie jar.

"Get that ridiculous grin off your face," Cyrus snapped as they walked toward the elevator.

"I can't help it Cy. It's what she does to me," he said leaning back against the far wall of the elevator.

"That smug son of a bitch," Jake muttered when he caught sight of the smugly satisfied look that Fitz was shooting him as the doors closed.

The large room held hundreds of people and dozens of media outlets that were reporting on the event, but he Fitz had no doubt that Olivia was not yet among the attendees. He always knew when she was in a room with him, a strange connection that neither one of them could explain. Fitz glanced at his watch, realizing that he had been working the room for 20 minutes and Olivia had still not made her way into the large ballroom.

Because of the size of the event, dozens of Secret Service agents working this evening. Tom would not be missed if Fitz sent him up to check on Liv. He had lifted his hand to call Tom over, when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. He turned to see Olivia walking into the room, with Jake draped around her like a fashionable accessory. He had to remind himself to breathe when he saw Jake's hand rested low on the small of her back. She was instantly surrounded by the press, flashing him a weak smile when he caught her eye.

Fitz watched as Olivia worked the room, introducing Jake to everyone that she talked to. He watched as she laughed at what was presumably Jake making a joke, and the way that his hand crept lower on her ass every time they moved through the crowd. It was easy to believe that they were a couple in love, and the press was eating up every scrap. There was one reporter however, that wasn't.

Michael Mitchell had worked as a foreign correspondent for CNN for years, opting to take a job with the Washington Post a few years ago. In the news business, he was a jack of all trades, photographing and reporting on his subjects. After years of traveling the world, Michael had developed a sixth sense for sniffing out a cover up. There was something about the convenient timing of Olivia Pope's relationship with Jake Ballard that didn't sit well with him. Instead of following Olivia Pope and Fitzgerald Grant around all night, he had set up shop in a quiet corner of the room with his camera and a long range lens. His night had already been fruitful, capturing of photo of Olivia walking in with Jake before quickly turning the camera on President Grant to capture him eye fucking Olivia Pope. His favorite so far was a picture of Olivia from behind, Jake's hand resting on her ass. When he turned the camera on the Fitz, he captured an image of the president watching Olivia, his face stone cold with his fists clenched at his side.

Fitz continued networking, trying to focus on the donors in front of him. He had 20 minutes before he had to give his speech and he needed to get a few minutes alone with Olivia before then. Fitz made his apologies, graciously slipping away from the group and walking over to Tom.

"Tell her that she's needed for some last minute speech preparation," he said to Tom after making sure that no one was in earshot.

Tom nodded, waiting for Fitz to move on to a group of donors before making his way over to Olivia who was chatting with Jake. As he approached, Olivia's back was facing him, but he was able to see that Jake's face was serious. Tom stood off to the side, scanning the room and allowing them privacy to finish their conversation.

Tom took note of a waiter that seemed preoccupied with Olivia and Jake, keeping an eye on the young man out of the corner of his eye. He saw the man pull a small gun from his apron, and pointed it at Olivia. Tom rushed to Olivia, throwing her to the ground just as a shot rang though the room. The room became chaos with attendees rushing for the doors and the Secret Service springing into action. Tom, along with several other agents rushed toward the gunman and subdued him.

Olivia's head was a haze of pain and debilitating fear. She barely made it through the last time that Fitz was shot, and she knew that she couldn't survive that kind of devastation again. She pushed herself off the ground, whipping her head around frantically trying to locate Fitz. She had to get to him. She knew that if he had been killed, this would be her last chance to say goodbye. Mellie would surely ban her from the funeral. She began running in the direction that she had last seen Fitz, the tears in her eyes flowing so rapidly that they were blinding her.

Fitz had been watching Olivia, and began sprinting toward her just as the shot rang out. Instantly, the Secret Service had swarmed around him, trying to drag him out of the room. The Secret Service had already secured Mellie, and was rapidly escorting her out of the ballroom as she tried to locate her husband.

"Livvie," he screamed, his agonized voice carrying over all the chaotic noise in the ballroom, causing an eery silence to fall over the room. Still not able to see him, she ran in his direction with unspeakable determination.

"Fitz," she cried, her voice echoing his agony.

In what could only be described as an adrenaline rush, Fitz shook off the Secret Service Agents that had surrounded him, freeing himself and rushing toward her.

Once he saw her running toward him, her dress covered in blood, there wasn't anyone or anything that could keep him away from her.

She ran straight into his arms, both of their heads still spinning. She flung her arms around him, their lips crashing together basking in the security they felt when they were together. They weren't thinking about the media, or the gunman- all they could think about was how their dream had almost been ripped away from them again.

"Mr. President, we need to move," the agents screamed around him, trying to pull him away from Olivia. The love of his life was in his arms, and there was no way in hell that he was letting her go, especially if she was hurt.

"I'm not leaving here without her," he bellowed back as he scooped Olivia into his arms. She nuzzled into his neck, tears still streaming uncontrollably from her eyes, as the agents lead them out of the hotel and into a waiting motorcade. The flashbulbs outside of the hotel blinded Liv and Fitz, each photographer trying to snap a picture of a possibly wounded president, but instead capturing a devastated president carrying his mistress in his arms with the First Lady no where in sight.

It was the calm after the chaos, and Michael Mitchell made his way from the corner after he had downloaded all of his pictures onto a digital server. He had reported from war zones and had never shied away from a story just because of a few stray bullets. Tonight, he had gotten the story. Tonight, he had captured the truth about Olivia Pope and President Grant. As he waited to be interviewed by the FBI, he began crafting the story that would appear in tomorrow's paper. The pictures he had taken showed true love, not a tawdry affair. His pictures chronicled their evening leading up to the shooting, and the intimate moments afterward. He smiled to himself, knowing that he had the story of the century: A President In Love.

"Get us to a hospital," Fitz shouted to the driver, never taking his hands off of Olivia.

"Are you hurt Mr. President?" an agent asked from the front seat.

"No. She needs to get to a hospital. NOW!" he barked.

"I'm sorry Mr. President, but we need to get you to a secure location before we can take Ms. Pope for medical care."

Fitz was about to jump into the front seat and kick the shit out of the agent when Olivia spoke for the first time.

"I'm fine Fitz. I hurt my wrist when I hit the ground, but it can wait."

|"Hospital," he barked again.

"Livvie, your bleeding Sweet Baby," he said leaning down and kissing her wondering if she was in shock.

She glanced down, her eyes widening when she saw that she was covered in blood. She frantically pulled her dress up leaving it bunched around her bra as she tried to inspect her body to find the source of the blood.

"It's not mine," she stated. "It's not mine, right?" she asked, still not understanding why she was covered in blood.

"It's not yours," he said relieved, leaning down and kissing every inch of her exposed body as he heard the privacy glass lifting behind him.

Olivia clung to Fitz for the remainder of the car ride. She rarely spoke, except to tell Fitz that she loved him, needing to hear him say it back to assure herself that he was really OK.

The car stopped in front of Blair House to both Liv and Fitz's surprise.

"This is our secure location?" Fitz asked Tom who had opened the door before he lifted Liv into his arms.

"Yes Sir. It was determined that you were not the target. Mrs. Grant was escorted to the White House. I determined that you should be secured at an undisclosed location for a few hours for your safety."

"Who was the target?" Fitz asked, as they walked into Blair House, Liv still in his arms.

"You will be briefed on that within the hour Sir."

"Who was the target?" Fitz asked again, more seriously this time.

"Jake Ballard," Tom responded.

"Is he dead?" Olivia asked, picking her head up from where it was rested on Fitz's shoulder.

"Yes Ma'am," he said apologetically.

"Motive?"

"He was working both sides Sir. Selling intel to the Koreans. They weren't happy with the intel they got."

Fitz was able to feel Liv's tiny frame begin to shake in his arms.

"We'll discuss this later Tom," Fitz said carrying Olivia through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

"I'm going to need you to stand for me," he said quietly as he placed her on her feet and unzipped her dress. He slid her dress to the floor, and then removed her bra and panties dropping them onto the tile floor.

"Do you want a bath or a shower?"

"Shower," she replied quietly.

"I'm going to go get briefed on what happened tonight, and then we are going to bed," he said planting a quick kiss before leaning down and picking up her dress from the floor.

"Is that OK?"

She nodded and walked toward the shower. She needed a few minutes to herself, to work through what had happened tonight.

Tom was waiting for Fitz when he exited the bedroom. Fitz extended his free hand to Tom, sincerely thanking him for saving Olivia.

"We are all fond of Ms. Pope, Sir. Any one of us would have have done the same thing."

"But you did Tom. I don't know how to thank you."

"Everyone is in the sitting room, Sir," Tom said not wanting the president to feel as if he owed him anything.

"Thanks Tom. Get rid of this OK?" he said thrusting the bloody dress toward Tom.

During the briefing, all that Fitz could think about was Olivia. It had going on an hour now, and he hadn't heard anything that would need to be dealt with tonight.

"It has been an eventful night gentlemen," Fitz began, "but it doesn't sound like we have all the intel yet. Let's call it a night and reconvene tomorrow."

Fitz was the first to stand, the other men following suit. He thanked them all for their dedication as he showed them to the door.

Cyrus lingered behind after the other men had left.

"How is she?"

"She's Liv," Fitz replied, and Cyrus understood perfectly. Liv portrayed determination and strength in all situations, never allowing anyone to see her sad or scared; except for Fitz.

"We need to discuss how we are going to deny the fact that you were carrying your rumored mistress into your limo after a potential assassination attempt when every paper in the country has the picture. Call Liv out and we can brainstorm," Cyrus suggested.

"One, Olivia is not my mistress. She is the love of my life."

"Two, we are not denying it. I was taking care of the most important person in my life. PERIOD."

"Three, no one was trying to assassinate me."

"Four, we are not calling Liv out here for anything. You are leaving, and I'm going to back to her to make sure that she is really OK."

"Fitz," he began, Fitz cutting him off before he could get in another word.

"This is my life Cyrus. It is not up for debate. Good night," he said firmly, opening the door for and watching as Cyrus left shaking his head.

"And now he's starting her counting shit," Cyrus mumbled to himself as he walked out the door of Blair House.

Fitz walked into the bedroom to find Olivia sitting on the bed wrapped in a towel looking as though she had been lost in thought.

"I need something to wear home," she said calmly when she saw him.

"You're staying here with me tonight Livvie," he said his gray eyes piercing hers.

"I left my purse at the hotel," she added, as if she had to resolve all the issues in her head before she could allow herself to calm down.

"I'll have someone bring it for you. Do you need it tonight?" he asked, willing to do whatever she needed him to do to put her mind at ease.

She shook her head.

Fitz pulled her into his arms, rubbing his hand over the bare flesh of her upper arm. She lifted her feet onto the bed, placing her head onto his chest and snuggling into him. They stayed like this for a long time before he spoke.

"Livvie?"

She slowly lifted her head from his chest, looking into his eyes expectantly.

"We are not fixing this, or denying this. First thing tomorrow, I'm filing for divorce and I'm moving you in here with me permanently."

"OK," she said smiling up at him before laying her head back down onto his chest.

So, this basically took care of all my issues from 3x12.

Jake = Dead

Olitz= Happy

Mellie=Going, Going, Gone

Tom= Loyal to Fitz and shipping Olitz as hard as I am.

Now that I got all of that out, I can hopefully get back to my other story.