Author's Note: Hey, everyone. Here's another D.D. for you to enjoy and more updates for the WIPs will be up soon. Have a good one!

CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #11-(Fitz, Olivia, Cyrus,Eli/Rowan, OOC but nothing too extreme, AU, law enforcement sting, protective custody, Olitz, ride or die, mentioned past Olivia/Edison, pre-Olitz becoming Olitz, NSFW)

Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie: It's getting about that time again. We've got a little less than a month before the hiatus ends and honestly, I'm more 'meh', 'here we fuckin' go again' and 'what-the-fuck-EVER' than 'whoo'. There's a smidgen of 'whoo' left in me but it's more because of me getting my TG and KW fixes than the show itself. Don't get me wrong, I do want to know what happens next but I'm also certain that Season 4 is just gonna end up being a disappointment in all the ways that matter to me just like the others. Does that make sense or am I just being a grumpy little raincloud for no reason? I mean, they could've pulled a move and pulled the plug out of nowhere and left all sorts of unanswered questions and unresolved bullshit cop-outs like so many other shows so…well, it's probably a healthy blend of both. The first two episodes are on the agenda for sure but the watch and liveblog the whole season from stem to stern promise I made last time is still undecided.

Anyways, once again, I have to give a shoutout and Gladiator Salute to lovepollution because the TG-KW as Olitz hotel room gif mashup she put up a couple of weeks ago gave my Muses the kick in the ass needed to go for this plot line. Keep up the awesomeness, my friend and I hope you guys enjoy the latest. Mad Love, Jam, and Power Drills, ~*Trump*~

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

"Whatever happened to that Edison Davis boy you were dating? The Senator's aide?"

"We broke up after Christmastime."

"Why?"

"He couldn't get past his hang-ups about my work."

"Can you really blame him?"

"Yes, I really can."

"Olivia…"

"Eli, I'm not having this conversation with you again."

"You could've come to me for help. You should've come to me for help."

"If we had a typical father-daughter relationship, I would've but we don't. Taking money from you would've been like a yoke around my neck that you could tug and make me bend to your will. It would've put me back under your thumb and made me miserable until I found a way to pay you back. No, thank you."

"What kind of professional future do you expect to have for yourself in this city with that sort of filth attached to you? A simple background check will show everything, not like you care."

"I'm not trying to hide it and there's more than one city that I can make a good living in. And what I do is not filth. Eli, I'm not prostituting. I strip dance and I model lingerie. Both fields are legitimate and quite lucrative. I'm at the top of my classes. I don't have any student loans. I can cover my living expenses and I have savings that grow with interest every day. I'm not doing anything wrong so why should I feel ashamed of my choices just because you are?"

"I'm not ashamed of you. I'm worried about you."

"Liar. You don't give a shit about me unless it serves your purposes. It's one of the very few things left that you and Maya have in common: conditional and opportunistic love for your mediocre, wayward daughter."

"…I'm truly sorry you feel that way, Livvie."

"You should be."

"…are you coming to dinner on Sunday?"

"Do I want to spend my Sabbath evening in peaceful, aromatherapy bath filled seclusion watching The Cosby Show marathon on TVLand or do I want to spend an extended, awkward period of time with my bitterly divorced parents in name only and my bottle blonde, Gordon Ramsey looking, pseudo stepfather at a frou-frou French restaurant as a spectator in your passive aggressive verbal sparring? Tough choice…"

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed. Very well. I'll pass on your love and greetings to your mother."

"Don't waste your breath. Look, I have to go. I'm adding some new moves to my routines and I need to practice them before my shift starts. If you're lucky, some of your comrades at 'the Smithsonian' and on the Hill can show you the highlights on their phones tomorrow."

"Olivia Carolyn Pope, I…"

Having heard enough of Eli Pope's "guidance" and "love", 23 year old Olivia Pope hung up her cell phone and put back in her large tote bag. The Metro had let her off 7 blocks from The Coliseum and she walked with her head up, a confident sway in her gait, and her beloved KA-BAR knife holstered on her left thigh. In the distance, she could see the Washington Monument glowing in the fading sunlight and she shook her head. Washington D.C. was the seat of power in the country but it was a city of contradictions. In one area, it was the quintessential American dream but in others, it was just as run down and dangerous as any other American city, worse even…

The van was still there in the alley.

Olivia had noticed the various vans parked in the same place outside the club immediately. Sometimes they were unmarked, sometimes they looked abandoned, and sometimes they had names of businesses but they had been there every night for the past 3 months. And not only that, the arrival of the vans coincided with the arrival of a new bouncer, called The Gentleman by her and the other girls.

His name tag read 'Patrick' but he had earned his nickname by his actions or rather, his lack of actions. He never copped a feel when he helped them on and off the stage. He never drank or smoked on the job. When he bounced someone, he did it promptly and he didn't do it with the expectation of sex nor had he taken up any of the offers from the girls. Olivia certainly couldn't blame them for trying. The Gentleman was tall, long, and made of pure muscle. His voice was a silken baritone and his eyes…his eyes were kind and summer sky blue. He kept things friendly but utterly professional, prompting the ongoing heated debate amongst the girls about his status: Married, Asexual, or Gay.

Olivia quietly went with a fourth option: Cop and/or Fed.

There was a sting going on and she would not blow his cover because something…something wasn't right.

It had started 6 months ago. The owner of the Club, a Charlie Brown, had brought in a new partner named Billy Chambers and things had changed. The facility itself had been remodeled and it was actually nice now but Charlie had a shorter fuse than before and was jittery. Something illegal definitely was happening. While on stage, Olivia could see mini meetings and subtle money exchanges at the bar. Plus, there was a new girl, an Amanda Tanner who was very, very cuddlesome with Billy. She put on airs a lot but she was also jittery and very careful with her possessions, as if she were hiding something. Most likely, The Coliseum was now a money Laundromat or a factory for something contraband, probably party drugs, really dangerous party drugs…

Olivia wasn't going to dwell on it.

No.

Absolutely not.

She was there to do a job, do it well, and be paid handsomely for it, not to be a Commando or a Vice Dyson.

If something shady was going on, then it would all come out eventually so there was really no need for her to get involved.

Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

She'd leave it to the professionals and would make damned sure that her back was never to the door so she could duck, cover, and run when it all hit the fan.

Because her Gut told her that it was going to hit the fan soon and when it did, it would be spectacular.

Olivia was not going to dwell on it nor was she going to get involved.

No, sir.

Absolutely not.

It wasn't worth the risk to her job or, worse case scenario, her life to get involved or curious.

Although, it really would be a crying shame if something happened to "Patrick"…

/

"Cyrus, I think I've been made by one of the performers."

"Which one?"

"Olivia."

"The naughty schoolgirl? It's possible. She's Eli Pope and Maya Lewis' girl. Both of them are brilliant and have a knack for sniffing out bullshit."

"Should I pull out?"

"No. This is actually a good development. We've got footage of the basement pill factory and Tanner making deliveries but the prosecutor wants audio of actual deals being made by Brown, Chambers, and Stanton. We need an inside man…woman to get the bug in the office and Olivia may be just the one. Do you think she can be trusted?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't really interacted with her. She comes in, does her thing, and goes. I've asked about her to the others and they've got nothing more than what she's told them."

"Which is?"

"Her financial aid went awry 18 months ago and while she was able to cover her tuition, everything else was in the air. She worked at a few bars and tutored until she came in for an amateur night at the club. It had been a dare and Brown gave her a job offer. She works at the club and does freelance lingerie modeling as a backup hustle. She's an only child and her parents are divorced, too busy fighting with each other to look after her properly. Other than that, I've got nothing."

"I want you to read her in. Be careful about it."

With a curt nod, 32 year old Special Agent Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III rolled up the window of his black sedan and drove towards The Coliseum 10 blocks away. It was a balmy summer evening in DC and the first of the month. The streets were full of people enjoying the nightlife and he knew that he would be in for a lively shift. The House and Senate were in recess, it was a military pay day, and The Coliseum was a local favorite amongst the gentlemen's club circuit. The drinks were strong, the food was cheap, the performers were beautiful, and most of all, it was the go-to spot for MDMA or Molly, as it was referred to nowadays.

The source was one William 'Billy' James Chambers, a 29 year old hailing from Atlanta, Georgia. The son of a prominent local televangelist and a church choir director, he had grown up with religion and wholesome values shoved down his throat. He had been on track to follow his father's footsteps until he had been accepted to Princeton and had fallen deep into the Rave scene. He had been caught selling prescription pills on campus and had not only been expelled but disowned by his parents. They had sent him 500 dollars, a bible, and a letter saying that they would pray for his fallen soul and if he was ever redeemed, then he could come back to them.

While serving his sentence, he had made contacts and learned how to make the drug himself. Once he was loose, he had gone into business for himself, staying on the move. Charlie Brown and Tom Stanton Jr. had been two of the few friends the man had left after the dust settled and apparently had agreed to go into business with him. 19 year old Amanda 'Mandi' Tanner had been quickly swept off of her feet by Chambers and into the business as a mule. Whether she was willing or not was a mystery but she was a mule and when the time came, she would be arrested and charged, steadfast in her loyalty to Chambers to the end.

Chambers was an elusive snake and actually wanted in connection with two deaths associated with bad product. He had bounced around the Northwestern states and SoCal before coming to the capital to work with his buddy. In return, Brown was able to pay off the substantial amount of gambling debts that had his legitimate business in jeopardy and now, he was connected by circumstance. Brown was a sleaze and an asshole but he had kept things on the straight and narrow until now. When they moved in, he would be the one who would roll on any and everyone to keep his skin intact.

Stanton was likely to flip, too. He had no loyalty to anyone at the end of the day but himself.

Chambers would come out shooting to kill. The rejection by his family, his time in prison, and the mental damage done by using his own drug of choice (Crystal Meth…) made him a volatile cocktail. Volatile cocktails always blew up and would take anyone out with them.

Fitz sincerely hoped that Olivia, more commonly referred to as her stage name of Orchid, would not be taken out in the endgame blast.

Unlike the other performers, she kept a firm but not unkind distance from him. She always had a book with her and would occasionally be seen knitting, usually a scarf or a hat. She stuck to the stage for her routines and had a variety of schoolgirl costumes, ranging from good little Catholic girl to Gothic dominatrix. Her "trademark" solo routine was one involving a big and sturdy chair, a handcuffed man, and Beyonce's Naughty Girl. It was reserved solely for welcome home/departure parties for soldiers and had become a rite of passage, according to his old squadron mate turned flight instructor Jake Ballard.

Also according to him, she was the go-to favorite for a modern day pin up girl. Tiger Lilly was her modeling name and she was usually seen in the same catalogues as Bethany Whisper along with ones for La Perla. She was a striking beauty, petite yet strongly, lushly curved where it counted…

Stepping into the club, Fitz was greeted by the sight of the woman of his thoughts dropping down into a Russian Split. She was already dressed for her shift sans the blazer jacket and he noted the knife holstered on her left thigh with an approving nod. Like the other performers, she carried mace and a whistle but she was always armed with a knife that she was very skilled with. Sometimes, she'd incorporate it into her routines, adding to her popularity…

As soon as their gazes met, Fitz knew that his instincts were spot on. She knew that he was in law enforcement and she knew that he was in the middle of an Op. As if she were responding to his thoughts, she nodded once before miming zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. Gripping the pole behind her for support, she pulled herself up and walked towards the backstage curtain, a bit of an extra sway in her gait. Getting to it, she looked at him again lingeringly (longingly?) and then disappeared.

/

2 Days Later…

It had happened so fast.

She had seen Tom raise the gun to shoot him and before she could even think, her KA-BAR had gone flying and lodged right in the center of the man's forehead, killing him instantly. Before Charlie or Billy could react, she had turned off the lights and yanked the nearby fire alarm. There had been a scuffle and then the sound of two men running into the tables full of product and equipment. Running footsteps came to her and yanked her up the stairs, "Patrick" hustling them through the fleeing crowd and outside in the early morning. They had kept a brisk pace, her bag thumping against her jean clad leg (thankfully, she had gotten out of costume before she had stumbled upon the scene in the basement, wanting to say goodbye to "Patrick" before going home) and ended up by the Reflecting Pool. Someone in the Van must've reported the situation because a black federal SUV had pulled up and they had gotten in, driving to the J. Edgar Hoover building.

Icy shock had set in by the time she had ended up in a conference room teeming with all sorts of agents and it had stolen her voice, made her hear things as if she were underwater…

"…still in pursuit of Brown and Chambers…Tanner surrendered peacefully…"

"…got the audio and the DEA is ready to…"

"….damned good throw for a civilian…military precision…"

"…PC for both of you…moving you ASAP…preparing a route out of town…"

"PC means Protective Custody, doesn't it?"

The chatter in the room ceased and "Patrick" that she now knew was Special Agent Fitzgerald Grant III (The Gentleman was the son of one of the most notorious pigs in American politics…the irony was biting!) came to the corner she had quietly claimed. Carefully, he knelt down to the floor and she curled tighter within herself as he brushed some hair out of her tear stained face. She was shaking from cold and from nerves, her voice husky and soft from lack of use and from weeping. She hadn't stopped crying since they got to the Hoover Building.

"It does. It's only until Brown and Chambers are off of the street."

"D-Do I have to go away by myself? I don't want to be alone right now…"

"No, I'll be going with you. We're about to send a team to your place to collect some essentials for you. Is there anything specific you'd like or need?"

"I-I have an emergency duffel bag packed underneath my bed and there's a safe hidden in the bottom drawer of my dresser underneath a false bottom. The combination is 1-31-91 and there's about 8200 dollars in there, along with my important documents. And I need my laptop so I can finish my school essays a-and I want all of my blankets. And don't forget the big Tupperware container of shea butter underneath the bathroom sink. I made it myself and I'd like to keep it."

"Okay. Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?"

"I'll probably just throw it up but you can get me something if you want to…I…I k-killed someone…he was gonna kill you and me afterwards but still…I never want to see that knife again…y-you guys can keep it…"

"Is there anyone you want to get in contact with? A trusted friend, your parents…"

Olivia snorted rudely at that last suggestion and replied, "Like they'd care. Knowing Eli, he'd say that if I had only listened to him and quit dancing, then I wouldn't be in the situation to begin with and Maya's too busy sucking Dominic's cock to care about anything, including her precious, stripping, murdering daughter. They can hear about it on the news like everyone else. And I don't have friends, not real ones who would actually miss me, anyway."

That was a good thing, she supposed. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to get hurt or murdered just for being connected to her. With a soft sniffle, she stood up slowly and walked with him towards the elevator.

Olivia was 23 years old and not only had she actually killed someone, she was about to be on the run from drug dealers with one of the most inwardly and outwardly attractive men she had ever met. It was something out of a Lifetime movie but it was her life, a life that could've and should've been taken hours before but hadn't.

All things considering, life could be much worse.

/

"You saved my life."

"You saved mine first."

"Still…"

"Olivia…"

"Shh…"

Her lips were silky soft and warm, tasting of the strawberry jam she had eaten straight out of the jar earlier. The hotel room was small but clean, the space taken up mainly by the bed. They had driven until sundown, ending up about 30 minutes outside of Atlanta. Brown had been caught around noon but Chambers was still on the loose and out for blood before being taken down. The tap on his cell phone recorded him demanding a piece of "the little chocolate bitch" before she was killed by his contact, a contact that had promptly sold him out in order for reduced charges in his own drug smuggling operation.

Brown had been caught in the process of searching and trashing her apartment. Amanda Tanner was eagerly spilling her guts and would be put into PC herself so she could testify at the trials. Olivia had expressed her willingness to testify as well and in response, Cyrus had assigned him to her until further notice. After all, Fitz was in danger as well and Olivia would be more likely to remain in their care if she was with someone she knew, someone she respected, someone she…

"We can't…"

"We can…I want to…don't you want to?"

"Yes, but…"

"But, nothing. We are consenting adults and…well, I'm thinking that we met for a reason. There's something between us and I want to explore it. Maybe I'm wrong…"

"…you're not wrong."

Turning on the bedside lamp, Fitz met her guileless amber sienna gaze and felt something shift in his heart as she reached up to stroke his bare shoulder. Gently grabbing her delicate wrists, he put them on the pillow beneath her head and Olivia slowly swiveled her generous hips, sending a hot pulse of need into his Gut. She had on a pale pink balconette bra and he kissed the swells of her breasts, relishing her softness. Her hands went to the waistband of his white boxers and pulled them down swiftly, a hand wrapping around his tumid cock immediately. Her bra and thong were quickly removed and he held her hips down to keep her from thrusting up onto him.

"Mmm…slow down, Livvie…we've got all night…"

She shook her head and tried to get on top of him, making him place a hand over her abdomen and press her firmly into the mattress. A flash of defiance went through her eyes, despite them being slumberous with desire and in response…

A shuddering sigh of delight escaped his lover and he curled the digits in a beckoning motion, making her squirm.

"Mmmm…"

"I want to make you feel good, sweetheart. I want to be the best you've ever had…"

"Make me feel good, baby…please…"

"You'll stay where I put you?"

"Uh-huh…"

"You'll take what I'll give you?"

"Mmmm…oh, my god!"

"You feel delicious, Olivia…makes me want to know if you taste delicious...do you want me to find out?"

"Yes!"

His lips made a perfect 'O' and latched onto her dripping pussy, his tongue dipping into her. Olivia yelped and Fitz growled happily at the taste of her. Her flavor was enchanting and he wanted more. Moving his hands to the juncture where her legs and torso met, he spread the strong limbs wide and buried his face between her legs. Her fingers went into his hair and she was moaning and gasping his name, begging for more of his tongue and fingers…

/

"Ahhh!"

"That's it, sweetheart…let go…come for me, again…"

"I c-can't…too much, too good, too…Fitz-ger-ald!"

Olivia convulsed underneath him and whimpered as he continued his driving rhythm inside her, pushing her to heights that she had never experienced before. His tongue alone had exhausted her, ruined her but when he joined with her, it had been shattering. He was long, thick, and burning hot inside her. All she could do was scream and spread her legs as wide as they would go. Currently, her legs were over his shoulders and one of Fitz's hands rested upon her neck, the other being used for leverage.

"Oh, fuck!"

Olivia keened as another climax singed her nerve endings and the hand on her neck gathered a fist full of her hair, her legs dropping to his sides. Her knees were drawn up almost to her breasts and Fitz moved fully on top of her, kissing her with blistering passion and force.

"Fitz…" she sighed dreamily, her head spinning with sexual and emotional fulfillment…

"Mine…you're mine, Olivia Pope…" he rasped into her ear as he slowed to a deep fluid grind.

When Edison said things like that, she felt trapped or angry but hearing possessiveness from Fitz was very much to her liking because she knew that it was a two-way street. She was his and he was all hers.

"…so beautiful…so sweet and tight…so warm…so good…mmmm…"

Olivia cooed as his climax snaked through him and shivered with each impact of his hips against hers, each hard grunt, each husky moan, and each shudder of bliss that went through his body…

"Oh, god…"

"Did I make you feel good, baby? Did you like being inside me?"

"…so good…best I've ever…god, Livvie, yes…"

His whole body went supple against hers and he nuzzled her shoulder. Clicking off the bedside lamp, Olivia wrapped her arms around him and pressed a tender kiss to his brow. Fitz's arms wrapped around hers and the both of them sighed, the now bare mattress creaking as they settled amongst the tangled bedding. The afterglow set in and sank deep into her bones, her spirit…her still troubled and guilty spirit…

"Is it wrong to feel this good after what I did?"

"No. Olivia, you faced death today and lived. Yes, you took a life but you also saved not only my life but the lives of those who were going to get that product."

"It was a bad batch?"

"No, it wasn't but still, someone could've been hurt on a bad trip or gotten strung out."

"True…I still feel bad, though."

"'S okay. It makes you human." he assured her before yawning softly.

Although it was just past 8 o clock in the evening, the day had been so long that it felt like midnight.

"You're tired. I'm keeping you awake…"

"I don't mind staying awake to talk to you. Even with everything that's gone on between us, I don't really know you that well..."

Olivia glanced down at his strong left leg thrown over her thighs and the greedy handful of breast he was holding before giving him a dubious look, complete with a raised eyebrow. Fitz chuckled and conceded her point with an incline of his head.

"Still, knowing someone sexually is very different than knowing someone's personality."

"Point. What do you want to know about me?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with telling me. Like I said earlier, we've got all night…"

/

Five Hours Later…

"Baby?"

"Stay still, Olivia. Get my back up weapon out of the nightstand and stay still."

"Did you call for backup? Who is it?"

"I did. They're 5 minutes out…it's Chambers himself."

"Billy-boy's always been crazy and it's not like he's got anything to lose anymore. What are you doing?"

"I'm going out there."

"Not by yourself."

"Olivia…"

"Fitzgerald, I think I've proven that I can take care of you and myself quite nicely when it counts. Just ask Tom Stanton."

"I can't. He's dead."

"Exactly."

"…if you're going out there in a sheet, then at least put your panties back on first."

As she did so, Fitz buckled his pants and undid the safety of his gun. Looking out the window, he saw Chambers ascending the right staircase of the hotel's upper level, looking crazed but resolute with a gun in his hand. He had been right. Chambers was ready to either shoot his way to freedom or to the grave and he didn't care who went with him.

He would not be taking Olivia with him.

Looking at her, she nodded and he opened the door, leveling a gun at Chambers' chest as soon as he got to the top of the stairs.

"FBI, Billy. Drop the weapon."

"Big bad Fed thinks he can tell me what to do, huh?"

"Big bad Fed knows that he can tell you what to do. Drop the weapon or I'll drop you. It's over."

"Is that chocolate bitch still with you? I knew you had a hard on for her. 'The Gentleman', Mandi and the other whores called you. You weren't very gentleman like when you'd watch her performances. A few times Chuck and I thought you would get up on that stage and fuck her for everyone to see but you didn't…until tonight. Seems like little Liv-Liv likes to bite…"

Chambers was so focused on him, he neglected to notice her until it was too late.

"Where did you get a taser from?"

"I bought with my first modeling check. Are you okay?"

"Never better."

Both of them watched as SUVs pulled in with lights and sirens on and Olivia looked up at him impishly as an unconscious Chambers was hauled downstairs, their mutual state of undress pointedly ignored by the responding agents.

"Hell of a couple of days, huh?"

"You could say that. Go back to bed. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"Be quick about it. Saving the day actually makes me quite horny…and hungry. Is that weird?"

"No. It's a response to adrenaline rush and come down."

"Good. Go and talk to your boss. I want a PB&J sandwich and then I want your cock."

Taken aback (and more than a little turned on) by her bluntness, Fitz watched as she went back into their room and sighed fondly in her wake, heading down to an impatient looking Cyrus.

His assignment was over but his life with Olivia Pope was just getting started.

He was looking forward to it.