A/N: Hello Gladiators! I'm back with another scandalous tale! This time it's an alternate universe take on Fitz and Olivia. In this universe Olivia is a presidential historian who was working on her PhD when she was forced out of her doctoral program for reasons that will be explained. Fitz was president but was impeached over the Defiance voter rigging scandal, which he didn't have anything to do with, but he was forced to leave office in disgrace. For that reason he's pretty angry and bitter about life in general.

This story is part romance/part mystery. Both Olivia and Fitz have personal demons that they're battling. Fitz has gone through a lot of pain, disappointment and rejection and is a bit of a crusty, cranky dude as a result. Olivia has also suffered her own share of pain and rejection as well.

This story takes place approximately three years after Fitz was forced out of office. Cyrus wants to rehab Fitz's image and decides it's time for Fitz to write his memoirs but he's going to need some help from a professional writer. Enter the biographer Olivia Pope. The following prologue takes place about a month in the future after Fitz and Olivia meet in Chapter 1.

PROLOGUE

The knot of tension that had formed in Olivia's stomach the moment she entered the Margate Correctional Facility tightened even further when she crossed the threshold into the waiting room. But there was no turning back now. The answers she was looking for were behind those maximum-security steel doors and this was the only way she was going to get them.

After going through a series of security checks and metal detectors, Olivia was finally brought to a small low-ceilinged room divided by a wall of glass. She was about to take off her coat when she thought better of it and decided to keep it on. Despite the fact that the temperature in the prison was a toasty 72 degrees, Olivia didn't feel comfortable removing any article of clothing. She looked at the huge clock on the wall. 11:13 a.m. She was only going to be given 15 minutes with the prisoner. How much longer was this going to take, she wondered.

Then there was an electronic buzz as the door on the other side of the glass opened. In walked Prisoner #1489-0876, Zachariah Goodwin. He appeared to be in his early 50s and had the haggard appearance of a man doing hard time. Wearing the standard neon orange prison jumpsuit, and accompanied by two prison guards, he came shuffling in to the room, his ankles wrapped in leg irons and his wrists in handcuffs. The guards seated him in the chair directly across from Olivia. They were separated by about three inches of indestructible plexiglass.

"Well, aren't you a pretty one," said Prisoner 1489-0876 with a lustful tone.

"Sir, my name is Olivia Pope and I'm here…"

"Sir? Goddamn, even when I was out free as a bird ain't nobody ever call me 'sir.' Say it again," Goodwin said with a lecherous grin.

Olivia cleared her throat. This interview was going to be much harder than she thought.

"Mr. Goodwin, my name is Olivia Pope and I am a writer and..."

"A writer? Here to see me? Get the fuck outta here," Goodwin said laughing. "I knew that being locked up in this shit hole would make me famous some day. You got a camera crew outside? Bring 'em in."

"No, you don't understand," Olivia said, visibly flustered. "I'm working on a biography of former Pres. Fitzgerald Grant and I'd like to ask you a few questions "

"Questions, huh? What kind of questions?"

"Well, I was going through some of Pres. Grant's private correspondence and came across your name written on a single sheet of paper and as you can imagine, it piqued my curiosity."

"You using some mighty big words, sweetheart. I ain't got nothing but a 9th-grade education. Speak to me in plain English."

"Your name was written on a piece of paper that I found in some of Pres. Grant's private papers," Olivia replied.

"What did Grant tell you about me?" Goodwin leaned forward and eyed Olivia suspiciously.

"Nothing."

"Hmm, ain't that a bitch," Goodwin said with a wry chuckle. He leaned back in his seat.

"Well, actually, he doesn't know that I know about you."

"You said you found my name written on some paper, huh?"

"Yes, that's correct," said Olivia.

"And that Grant didn't send you? That he doesn't know that you're here?" Goodwin was highly suspicious.

"That's right."

"Look, I may be behind bars but I'm not stupid. I can smell a trap from a mile away. Who the fuck are you, really?"

"Like I said, my name is Olivia Pope and I'm working on a book about Pres. Grant. I assure you, I am legitimate."

"There you go again with them big, fancy words," Goodwin said in an irritated tone. "Look, I ain't got jackshit to say to you."

Olivia looked up at the clock on the wall. The time was 11:27. She had three minutes left before the guards came back in to retrieve the prisoner. If she was going to get answers, it was now or never.

"The First Lady. Mellie Grant. What do you know about her death?" Olivia blurted out.

"Huh? What?"

"Do you know what happened? Was it truly a suicide or was it murder?"

A look of fear and panic contorted Goodwin's facial features.

"GUARD!" Goodwin shouted. Gone was his earlier good ol' boy bravado. He was now agitated and clearly afraid. He started stomping his feet on the ground. "GUARD!"

"I know you know something, I know you know what happened!" Olivia exclaimed. "Tell me! Tell me now! Do you know who killed Mellie Grant?!"

"GUARD! GET ME OUTTA HERE!"

A/N: Oh boy, this story is going to be dark. So in addition to Fitz having been forced out of office, his wife, the First Lady, has died under rather suspicious circumstances that I will explain in a later chapter. Let me know what you think in a review!

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