Olivia realized that she’d read the document in front of her for the third time and still didn’t understand what it meant. She let it drop with disgust and leaned back in her chair, briefly closing her eyes.

This was ridiculous, she scolded herself. All was said and done. It was over - he had made it abundantly clear - and she was moving forward with her life. Wasn’t she?

Then why couldn’t she get Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III out of her mind? 

She picked up the remote control on her desk and switched on the tv, scanning the news channels until one of them caught her eye. She turned the sound up as the newscaster was in the middle of his story about the five aid workers that had been abducted by some splinter rebellious terrorist group only weeks ago. 

Not unexpectedly, the picture switched to one of the president’s news conferences. As unwise as she knew it was, Olivia couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. 

As always, he was the very image of a president, tall and commanding, with a voice of quiet authority and eyes that caught you and held you and made you believe every word he spoke. She doubted if there were many who noticed the tightness around his mouth or the new lines of tension beginning at the corners of his eyes. 

She did. Olivia looked at him, resisting the urge to sigh unhappily even while she wondered when it was that he had last had a full and good night’s rest. 

Olivia shook her head as though to clear those treacherous thoughts away. He was no longer hers to worry about. And truthfully, he had never been. 

Standing up, she hit the mute button on the remote before moving away from her desk. Olivia took a moment to stretch complaining muscles before wandering over to the window. Her intent was to look out at the busy streets below but her thoughts went elsewhere. 

She frowned. This still happened every single time she saw him; some old memory of him, of them, would loose itself from the shadows of her mind. 

This time, unwillingly, the memory was of their last encounter. She had literally thrown herself into his arms and for a moment, had let herself believe in a miracle - that everything was going to be okay. 

Only to find out that it wasn’t. 

His words were like a shock of ice water thrown in her face. 

Just because I can’t control my erections around you doesn’t mean I wanted you. 

We. Are. Done. 

And before she could say anything - Cyrus was standing at the end of the hallway, calling him away. 

One week passed, and then another and then others . Olivia had dived head-long back into the operations at OPA, done her best to get through her days like nothing had happened - as if the world as she knew it hadn’t ended. And most of the time she managed to succeed. Barely. 

The nights were the worse, though. Without meaning to, she found herself still waiting for those late night calls. The same ones she used protest half-heartedly against even while they both knew how false her words were. They had believed that they would always be connected.

And now they weren’t. And it was all her fault. 

She wasn’t alone in what had happened; in fact she had been the last one of the group to agree - had argued against it up until the very end. And even then she had done it with her heart aching so badly she’d had to struggle to hold back her tears. 

And why? Olivia shook her head because she couldn’t really say - there were a million and one reasons why she had, and a million and one reasons why she shouldn’t have. 

She closed her eyes against the painful memory, feeling the hot prickle of tears beginning. 

Come on, Olivia, she told herself as she wiped at them angrily. Get it together before your people notice and start asking questions. 

It came to her that they probably already did; she’d seen signs of it in their eyes. The looks that held a fraction longer, the side glances between one another when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. She’d tried to tell herself that she was being paranoid, but the truth of it was that all of them were showing it in different, mostly subtle ways, but the knowledge that something was on their boss’ mind was bright behind their eyes. 

Never ones to pry, to push beyond a certain point, no one had confronted her yet. In that, she had trained them well - there was a reason why it said Olivia Pope and Associates on the door. But the longer she tried to hold her mask in place, the more she could feel the questions beginning to rise in them with more and more regularity. 

Abby was the most transparent of all. More and more, the looks she gave Olivia were clearly inquisitive - it was clear she was barely managing to keep herself from asking anything and Olivia wondered how much longer she would be able to hold her silence. Plus she was starting to bring in baked goods on a regular basis. While this was making the rest of the associates very happy, Olivia knew better. When Abby worried or stressed over things - she baked. Prolifically.

Harrison’s eyes were full of concern and more than a hint of bewilderment of why she hadn’t confided in him about whatever he thought was concerning her. 

Huck’s look was something she could at least take a sort of refuge in; he cared as much as anyone else, but he would ask nothing of her that she wasn’t ready to give; that and his protectiveness gave Olivia a strange sense of comfort. And even Quinn was shyly curious, still mostly too awed by her to dare to speak much of anything that didn’t have anything to do with work. 

Olivia wondered if her gladiators discussed her when she wasn’t around to hear it. Maybe they had and had all decided to give her time and space. Knowing her people as well as she did, she was probably right about that. 

The thought made her smile, wondering which one of them would be the first to break that collaborative silence. They were a crack investigative team, with highly tuned senses for ferreting out truths and information and it was only a matter of time before one of them confronted her. Secrets were things to be solved.

Her smile faded a little; she only wished that she could tell them the truth. That was something she could barely face herself, let alone allow anyone else to see. 

With that in mind, Olivia had a sudden change of mind. It wasn’t cowardice, she told herself - she just needed a few minutes to get her thoughts moving in another direction. She needed to get her game face on so that all those eyes awaiting her would turn themselves elsewhere. Otherwise she might find herself crumbling before them and crumbling wasn’t something that Olivia Carolyn Pope did.

“Not even for you.” she said aloud.

“Not even for who?”

Olivia turned to see Harrison standing in the doorway, folder in hand. She was annoyed with herself that she hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Have we forgotten to knock?” Olivia’s voice was a little more sharper than she meant it to be. She smiled an apology at him.

“I did knock.” Harrison said; his expression shifted from its usual amiable expression to something closer to concern. “My turn for a question - what’s got you going so that you didn’t even hear me?”

“I’m a busy woman.” Olivia said lightly. “I’ve got my fingers in all sorts of pies.”

“That could prove to be very messy.” Harrison chuckled a little, in spite of the concern she could still see lurking in his gaze. His expression sobered a little. “If there’s anything else you need to talk about...” he let his words trail off.

Olivia smiled back at him, knowing that he was sincere. “If there was and I needed to talk, I know you’re there for me.”

He took the hint to let it drop and smiled back at her in acknowledgment. “And how do you know that?”

“Because you’re my gladiator in a suit.” Both of them grinned.

Just then, the phone rang. Holding up one finger to Harrison, Olivia answered it.

“Olivia?”

She tried to keep the surprise from her voice. “Cyrus? How are you? How’s James and the baby?” 

“My family is fine. As for my job - the usual. Doing a thankless job herding the sharks of the inner circle.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” she reminded him.

“There’s that.” he conceded. He paused. “Are you busy? I need to talk to you.”

Instantly her guard went up. “About what?”

“I’d rather discuss it in person.”

“I don’t think it wise that I...”

“Come here.” he finished the sentence for her. “And I agree. I seem to remember a particular outdoor coffee stand you used to favor.”

“I still do.” Olivia replied.

“Then can you meet me there in say - about twenty minutes. I’ll even spring for your two sprinkles of cinnamon.”

Olivia thought about it for all of ten seconds, then made her decision. “I’ll be there.” She hung up before she could change her mind.

Harrison said nothing, only looked. He knew better than to ask about anything concerning the White House and its inner affairs. That was something Olivia rarely discussed with anybody and even then it was on a need to know basis. 

“So...” he said.

“So - it seems that I’ll be out of the office for a bit. Was there anything that you needed to tell me?”

Harrison waved the folder he’d had in his hand at her. “I was just about to meet with a new client.”

Olivia frowned at him until he reminded her. “Shireen Davis? She’s getting some unwanted attention from someone pretty high up on the political ladder?” 

That was enough to jog her memory. “How’s that going?”

“She’s a little gun-shy right now. Doesn’t know who to trust. I’ve convinced her to meet with Abby and me outside the office; hopefully she’ll open up enough to see that she can trust us. And if we trust her, we’ll bring her in and you can get your usual one on one.”

Olivia started gathering up her things. “I hope so; we can’t help her  if she can’t help us. And that takes trust going both ways.”

“I hope to convince her of that when we meet.” As Olivia reached for her coat, Harrison took it from her and held it out for her to slip on. 

“If anyone can convince a woman of anything, it’s you, Harrison.”

“Well, thank you Ms. Pope, for admiring my skills.” He winked at her. 

Olivia shook her headeven as she smiled at him; Harrison was a good looking man. Even better - a sexy-looking man who was confident in himself - and that in itself was attractive to any red-blooded woman all by itself - when he turned his weapons of mass attractiveness up to full one hundred percent wattage.

“Your charm, you mean, right?” she said with a laugh as they walked out of her office. “Not to mention your good looks, your smooth as silk voice...”

“Like I said, my skills.” The smile that flashed at her was the one that would melt almost any woman’s heart. 

“Don’t encourage him, Olivia. It makes him more impossible to work with than usual.” Abby said as she walked up and joined them. 

“Sounds like you might need to practice those skills some.” Olivia said.

“First I need to find a worthy target.” he answered, with a pointed look at the redhead. 

Before they could get into one of their little spats, Olivia raised her hand. “Children, let’s behave until momma gets back, okay?” 

With another little laugh as she headed for the door. “Hold down the fort, people, ‘til I get back.”

As Olivia disappeared from sight, Abby and Harrison looked at one another. 

“Is she okay?” the tone of her voice said she already knew the answer.

“Nah, not really. We were right though; she’s working through something in her head, but she isn’t ready to talk about yet, either.”

“If ever.”

“Well,” Harrison turned to Abby. “Unfortunately, that’s Olivia Pope for you.”

“Yes, too bad it is.”