Someone else was speaking with the First Lady at that very moment.

“The president and the NSA Special Diplomatic Advisor were working in one of the private Resident gardens up until a short time ago. They had several folders open that they were reviewing together, then they took a break and are currently stretching their legs by taking a walk. Since they removed themselves from my general position, I did not have a chance to overhear their conversation.” 

Mellie smiled at Hal, her very special conduit into the workings of the White House presidential security detail. Oh, thank heavens for him and all of the very useful things she had learned from him. How easy it had been to convince with her act of the faithful, abandoned wife and how he’d leapt to her protection... Mellie smiled to herself at how easy it all had been...

“And how did they - seem?”

“Ma’am?”

“The president and his advisor. Did they appear - comfortable with one another? Pleased? Tense?”

“I’m - I’m not sure what you mean, ma’am.” Hal said. He looked uncomfortable as his eyes slid away from hers.  “They were having coffee before they got to work, they were talking and now they are walking together.”

Mellie sighed impatiently - every now and then he’d get these twinges of consciousness and it was so annoying when he did. 

She quickly figured out that  she wouldn’t get anymore out of him today, so Mellie thanked him and dismissed him as quickly as she could without seeming rude.

Men! She thought to herself. How could they be the ones who held so much power when they could be so obtuse at the same time? Another woman would have had no problem understanding her and what she wanted. 

Not for the first time did Mellie consider the idea of floating the idea of introducing a female agent in the personal White House secret service detail. 

Even though she was alone, she shook her head against the idea. The truth was, she really didn’t like other women, didn’t trust them much, either. Men, for the most part, were much easier to either get around or manipulate with the right smiles and manners. She’d managed to do that to her husband and every other men around her for years. 

A woman getting too close to them might see too much into her own machinations - an intelligent woman would be sure to see her  game from a mile away. And that might prove to be - troublesome. 

Mellie’s lips tightened slightly. All she had to do was look to the example of Olivia Pope to see the truth in that. She had made the mistake of dismissing her presence on the campaign trail, seeing her only as a tool to be used. Just another means to an end on her and Fitz’s path to the White House. 

She hadn’t even really cared all that much that Fitz had bedded her. A happy candidate was a focused candidate. And a focused candidate was a winning candidate. As long as he hadn’t been slobbering all over her, Mellie was more than happy for Olivia to take care of Fitz’s highly driven sexual needs. Even after she had borne his requisite son and daughter, he hadn’t stopped trying to get her into bed. 

It wasn’t the only way Fitz was off the path as far as achieving the presidency - he was too willing to belive in compromise, in his faith in the American people as a whole - but it had been one that had been the most troubling for her. 

His desires were so - raw - so animalistic. She didn’t like the loss of control he’d tried to bring into their bed. All the sweat, all the movement and positions and - just all of the messiness. He enjoyed it - he craved it.

She didn’t.

Thank goodness that eventually, he’d finally figured that much out about her, and had manage to restrain himself to a half-decent weekly encounter. That was about all she could take of him - and she wished she didn’t have to give in to him that often, though she’d never said it to him out loud. Mellie was prepared to do her wifely duties, but really - there had to be a limit to what she was supposed to submit to.

If Olivia Pope wanted to deal with that, well then - let her! It was one less chore she would have to deal with. At least that was what she had told herself in the beginning. 

Of course, then Fitz had to go and mess everything up by making the colossal error of thinking he was in love with that woman. 

Her eyes narrowed at the thought. Olivia Pope was - exotic - that was the pull, the attraction. It had to be. She was pretty enough, with those big brown eyes, high cheekbones and her full lips. No doubt that the combination of  her prettiness added to her sharp, concise political acumen were like an aphrodisiac to her husband.

It never occurred to her that a loveless, sexless marriage had driven him to other arms. It never occurred to her, even after he had asked, that the fiction of their life up until now - even the lie that they told about how they’d met - had never been enough for him.

It never occurred to her that her husband might truly be in love for the first time in his life. After all, love was nothing but pretending. Happily ever after was nothing but a fairy tale.  

At least now - after all that had happened - he seemed to have gotten over her, admit that the fairy tale had been built on nothing but lies and come back to his senses. Come back to her. She was the wife he needed in the world they lived in. And Olivia was nothing but a dream.

And she wasn’t fool enough to let temptation - and another fantasy - take its place twice. 

Mellie called for Teddy’s nanny. She kept the baby nearby in an adjacent room whenever possible - after all, there was no telling when an unexpected guest or situation might come about and after all, Baby Teddy was her best accessory right now.

“Ma’am?” the nanny appeared in the doorway.

“Wrap Teddy up in a blanket and bring him to me. I think a walk in the gardens might be good for him.”

The nanny hesitated.

“Well?” Mellie asked sharply.

“Nothing - except that he just woke up from his nap - so he’s a little cranky at the moment, and he needs changing and feeding as well...”

Even better. Mellie thought; aloud she cut the woman off. “Just bring him to me, now. We’ll see to the rest later.”

We, the woman thought to herself; she dared not say it out loud. You barely spend time with the poor child except for a prop, so what do you mean, we? At least Teddy’s father was around. 

Aloud, all she said was - “As you wish, Ma’am.” in as neutral a tone as she could manage.

A few minutes later, Mellie was making her way through the Residence’s  private gardens, trying to soothe a fretting Teddy  perched on her hip.

“Just a little longer,” she murmured to the little boy. “Then we’ll see daddy and everything will be all right.”

As soon as you help me put everything in place as it should be.

She came to the terrace grouping where Fitz and Jocelyn Martin had been working. A short distance away, she spotted Hal, who had left her to rush back to his post. He gestured slightly with his head so Mellie knew which path to take. 

Teddy began to wail and fuss a little louder. It annoyed her, because he was making it impossible to listen out for Fitz and his companion. She would have liked to have been able to hear what they were saying before they knew she was there. 

Luckily for her, however, when she looked up - ugh, she was going to have to change her outfit after this - they were coming around the curve of the path towards her. 

She put on one of her best smiles, the one that portrayed her as loving mother and wife, and stepped forward. 

“Oh, there you are!” she said to Fitz, ignoring the look of surprise that came over his face and was just as quickly shuttered away. She watched him glance at his watch.

“Hello, Mellie - isn’t it time for Teddy’s nap?”

“Yes, but the poor thing has just been cranky for the last thirty minutes or so.” Before he could react to that lie, Mellie came to him and put Teddy in his arms.  “I’ve tried everything I could think of, but you know how he is. Sometimes he just wants his daddy!”

It was too obvious a move to place herself between Fitz and the other woman, so Mellie opted to take his arm on the opposite side. 

The three of them started walking back to the terrace; Fitz was talking to Teddy, soothing him so Mellie started chattering to Jocelyn as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Mrs. Martin, I’m sure you remember how it used to be - you have a daughter, yes?”

Jocelyn felt forced into making small talk with the First Lady, but did the best she could. “Yes, but she’s all grown up now, thank goodness.”

“But I bet you still remember those unexpected Sundays when you and your husband and child just cuddled up and whiled the day away?”

Jocelyn smiled. “Well, my memories aren’t exactly the same, but I do know what you mean.”

As they reached the terrace, Fitz made a face. “I can see why you’re cranky little man, you need a diaper change.” 

Mellie laughed. “There’s a memory I’m sure you don’t miss.” She turned to Fitz. “Could you take care of that, honey? I’ll see Mrs. Davis out.” 

She turned to look at Jocelyn. “You two are done, aren’t you?”

Jocelyn looked at Fitz. She made it clear that they would be done only when he said so. “Sir?”

Fitz nodded. “If you don’t mind me seeing to Teddy?”

“Not at all, Mr. President.” Jocelyn did not react to Mellie’s momentary frown.  “If you like, we can be done at this point - I’ll get back to you if there are any new developments. before we are scheduled to meet again.”

Nodding, Fitz made his apologies and walked away with his son, chuckling and talking to him the whole time.

Jocelyn went to the table and sat down. She retrieved her briefcase and keyed it open, studiously ignoring the First Lady as she began  collecting the pages laid out upon the table, replacing them in the folders and putting those in the briefcase. 

She felt the First Lady’s eyes on her and waited for her to speak.

“I’m sure you can appreciate the amount of pressure and work there is for the president.” Mellie began.

“I certainly can.” Jocelyn said. 

Mellie sighed out loud. “I really wish he would try and take it a little bit easier - at least on an occasional Sunday. Pressure and stress can do such awful things to a man.”

“I agree, except unfortunately, it kind of goes with the job if you work in D.C.” 

It irked Mellie somehow, that the woman kept right on picking up the papers she and Fitz had left on the table; Mellie wished that she had had time to stop and at least look them over - she wanted to get an idea of what the two of them were working on in such secrecy.  Even more so since this time Cyrus was nowhere in sight. To have something that he knew nothing about, made Mellie practically glow at the idea.  

“That’s right, I guess you would know” she said. “I remember now, you worked here before Fitz and I arrived in the White House. Seems like a lot of people had- have a great deal of trust and faith in you.”

“I do what I can.” Jocelyn tossed the words off so easily that Mellie couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment. Resentment that this could have been her, at ease in the White House gardens, doing work that mattered; respected by past and present members of the White House staff and every one around her.  

The woman was closer to Fitz’s age than her own, but it was plain to see that she was still a beautiful woman. There might be a few laugh-lines at the edges of her eyes, but they were clear and warm and it was obvious that she didn’t need much make-up to enhance her appearance. 

She reminded her of an older Olivia Pope - poised and confident in a way she could never quite manage to achieve. Mellie felt her resentment turn into something deeper, darker. It made her next words come out a little sharper than she intended. 

“You must be dedicated, to come out on a Sunday morning to work.” Mellie said as she watched the other woman carefully. “I wonder if your husband minds losing you to the White House.”

“I should hope not; when he met me, I was already in my current position.” Jocelyn said. She smiled a tight little smile. “My husband has always been understanding of the requirements of my job.”

Jocelyn took a moment to look up at the First Lady. “He respects my ambitions and always has, so he’s also been very supportive as well. So it’s been no hardship at all - I’m pleased to place my talents at the service of the President if it pleases him.”

That stung, as it was meant to. Mellie circled around so that she was facing Jocelyn. Her eyes traveled up and down the length of the other woman’s body. “Talents.”

Jocelyn put the last of her papers into her briefcase and secured it. She raised an eyebrow at the First Lady’s tone - and words. 

“What talents would you say you have?” Mellie asked. And what tricks do you think you want to pull with them? She thought to herself. 

“The ones that make me qualified for the position I currently hold, Mrs. Grant.” She said looking Mellie directly in the eye. 

“And do you have any thoughts towards any other - well - positions?” Mellie asked. Her voice, while pretending to soft and genteel, was underlaid with the obvious insinuation.

The look on Jocelyn Martin’s face told Mellie that the other woman realized exactly what she was saying. Her dark brown eyes narrowed with the beginnings of anger. 

Mellie was unmoved. 

Instead of answering right away, Jocelyn swept the remaining folders into her briefcase and clicked it shut, her movements clipped and short. When she had done, she stood and faced her. 

“I would hate to be rude - it's such a small and childish thing for adults to indulge in.” Jocelyn said at last, her own tone making it clear that she saw Mellie as being exactly that. “But is there a point to this conversation, Mrs. Grant? If there is, I wish you would get to it.”

Mellie shrugged her shoulders lightly. “Not really, I suppose. I mean, as long as we’re clear on everyone’s positions in the White House, there’s no real point at all.I know my place and you know yours. It’s all the understanding we need.”

“My position? My place?” Jocelyn lifted an eyebrow as she looked back at her. Her eyes seemed to study her, putting her in some predefined category. She said nothing for a long, long moment until Mellie started feeling a little intimidated by the hardness of her gaze. Her temper began to rise and she pressed her lips together.

“Know my place?” Her papers safely stowed away, Jocelyn stood and walked over to Mellie so that they were standing face to face.  

“This one time, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you don’t really understand what you’re saying to me. You might want to ask somebody, the next time you get the chance. But you’re only getting the one.”

Mellie’s eyes widened. Jocelyn didn’t give her the chance to speak. She spoke slowly. She spoke clearly. She wanted to  make sure that the First Lady heard every single word she spoke.

“You don’t want to go there with me, Mrs. Grant. My position is wherever and whatever the president requires of me.” Jocelyn said softly. “Be it the Oval Office, or anywhere in the West Wing, that’s where I’ll be - where I am needed. Where my position is not - is in the East Wing - and that’s your domain, is it not?”

She paused to take a breath. “I do not work for you, therefore I do not answer to you. Are we clear about that?”

“Anything that involves my husband’s administration, involves me.” Mellie said defensively. To Mellie’s surprise, the other woman stepped even closer, intruding into her personal space. Mellie didn’t like the nervousness she felt rising inside of her, but she couldn’t control it and she knew it was showing. She could see in Jocelyn Davis’ face that the other woman knew it too. 

“Whatever your husband chooses to share with you, is none of my business. Whatever my president chooses to share with me - is mine - and definitely none of  your business. Please do not question me about my place again - I know very well what that is. The question is - do you?” Jocelyn said. “Your place is not to question policy - so stay in your lane, Madame First Lady.”

She took a step back and reached for her briefcase. “Good morning, Mrs. Grant - and I do hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” 

Jocelyn began to walk away, then turned back just before leaving the patio area.  She held up a finger. “Oh, before I go _ I will share part of our conversation. I’ll being seeing you at the state dinner after all - as I’m sure the President will be telling you soon enough - at his invite, I might add. As I already said - remember - I serve at the pleasure of the president.”

Before Mellie could even begin to come up with a single word to say, the other woman was already walking away, her heels clicking on the patio stones.