Even Lovers Drown CH 54

Cyrus sighed out loud, forgetting for a moment about the woman standing by his side. His eyes were fixed instead on the woman across the room. Mellie’s blue eyes were slowly canvassing the room, tracking each group and gathering.

Another glance told him what he already knew - Fitz was no where to be seen.

His eyes came back to Mellie as she drew closer; Cyrus stiffened slightly as Mellie’s gaze locked onto his. Her eyes filled of an icy rage and it was clear she’d noticed Fitz’s absence. He didn’t have to guess at what would come next and Mellie didn’t disappoint him, as much as he might have wished -hoped - that she would.  After a moment’s pause, and a moment to excuse herself from some conversation she’d been having, she began to head in his direction. It was slow, but it was deliberate. No one would noticing would know he was her endgame - no one but him.

It would do no good to retreat; it might provoke her. A waiter was passing by with a tray of drinks and Cyrus snatched one up, draining it without really tasting.

Only then did he remember that jocelyn was still standing next to him and that was because of the raised eyebrow she sent in his direction. Cyrus had a split second of worry that Jocelyn would catch a clue as to what was happening, but it quickly passed - as long as she didn’t ask any questions right now, he would be grateful.

Dealing with more than one woman at a time could be exhausting - as he had far too much experience with that particular scenario. Between Mellie Grant and Olivia Pope - and  Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, he felt as though he were in some Shakesperian drama that had no end.

His brief respite of gratitude disappeared as he noticed Jocelyn turning from him and following his own gaze, noticed the First lady heading in their direction. A curious little smile crossed her face and it sent a ripple of apprehension through Cyrus.  He remembered their last interaction and groaned a little inside.

He tensed as she slanted a glance in his direction “Shall I have the next waiter bring you a double?” she murmured wickedly.

Not waiting for Cyrus to answer, Jocelyn turned and nodded to one of the unobtrusive secret service agents standing against the wall. He responded to her unspoken summons swiftly. Bending down, he listened intently for a moment and then answered her in the same soft tones she was using. He walked away, speaking into his headpiece as he went.

Cyrus shot her a glance, wondering what that was all about. “I think the First Lady might want to have a word in private with me.” he said. The less ears to hear what Mellie had to said, the better, he thought.

“Now what kind of aide would I be desert  you when you’re about to enter the lion’s den?”

“This might be a little more serious than you seem to think it is.” he said. He couldn’t explain himself any further than that and he didn’t want to even begin to think of what explanation there would be to give if he could.

Jocelyn nodded. “We all have our duties to attend to.” she agreed.

He looked at her in sudden confusion but all he got in answer was another strange little smile - she actually looked amused - and then Jocelyn was turning to  face Mellie just as she reached them.

“Cyrus, could I have a word with...” Mellie began. Despite her demeanor, her eyes were flashing danger signals that Cyrus couldn’t ignore. His gut soured at the thought of the imminent explosion.

“Madame First Lady, this has been the most wonderful evening.” Jocelyn cut in smoothly before Mellie could say another word. “Unfortunately, Cyrus and I are just on our way out - an unexpected and necessarily undisclosed and very private briefing...” she let her words trail off.

She made a point of glancing around with a concerned expression which she kept as she turned back to Mellie and lowered her voice as though they were sharing a confidence. “I see the president must have received word just before we did. We were just summoned ourselves. In which case, we shouldn’t keep him waiting - I’m sure you understand.”

“Cyrus?” Jocelyn’s words had had their intended effect, he saw. Mellie’s expression showed clearly that she was torn as to what she wanted to say or do next. Duty or pride - she knew as well as they did, that a part of this evening was also serving to uncover any sympathetic ears in the region and if so, this might be the outcome of those hopes. An ugly disruptive scene could undo all of that hard work.

Thinking quickly, he followed Jocelyn’s lead. “I’m sure you can keep everything here running smoothly, Madame First Lady. I’m sure the president can trust you to see to everyone’s comfort and make sure that his agenda is being served.” Throw Mellie a bone, he thought, give her a taste of power and she could possible be diverted - at least for the moment.

He saw the realization of his words creep across her face; Cyrus sought the better part of valor and wisely kept his mouth shut until he could figure out just what the hell was happening. Before the first lady could react - Jocelyn had slipped her arm in Cyrus’ and let him guide her - one could question just who was guiding whom - out through the nearest french doors.

As they walked along the paths towards the offices of the West Wing, the sounds of the ball faded rapidly behind them. Cyrus chanced a glance at Jocelyn’s profile. She wasn’t quite smiling, but there was a satisfied set to her expression. Cyrus digested that as they walked along in a companionable silence, one that Cyrus broke once they were well beyond the sound of any casual observers.

“While I enjoy shutting down the First Lady in her tracks as well as the next person, I don’t think that you have any idea of what you’re doing.” Cyrus said. “But thank you for just now. You might have just averted a major crisis.”

Jocelyn’s expression bloomed into a full smile as she turned to look at him.

“I think I do. I have eyes, chere. And no doubt so do you, keener than most, I'd bet.” Jocelyn said. “I’ve seen what perhaps shouldn’t be seen, but who am I to judge?”

Cyrus stopped in his track, heart pounding in his chest as he took in what she was saying. Fitz had disappeared and Olivia was nowhere to be found. And Jocelyn Martin knew... The thought echoed through his chest, paralyzing him.  His mind began to spin with the implications.

Jocelyn shook her head and tugged at his arm. They began to walk again, Cyrus’ mind churning with thoughts of how he could persuade her to keep her silence.

Her next words were unexpected. “We both know - they both know - what duty is and what forms it takes. We have all served and sacrificed in the name of that duty. What harm can there be in giving duty a rest, if only for a little while?”

She said nothing more, allowing Cyrus to take in what she’d said. Inwardly, Cyrus breathed a sigh of relief. This woman, as much as he had doubted her in the beginning had shown nothing but  loyalty and discretion to the president since he’d brought her on board. Maybe Fitz had seen something in her that he himself had not. Cyrus was not the type of man to trust anyone quickly, but he felt himself thaw the the tiniest bit.

“So the bit with the agent?”

“Simply reinforced my story. In fact, I asked him to dismiss my car. I may have to hitch a ride with you?”

Cyrus gave her a smile. “That won’t be an issue, Madame Envoy. Meanwhile, to make your story look good, I suggest we retire to the Oval for a bit - we could get some work done...”

Jocelyn nodded. “The first drafts of a statement thanking the American people for patience and for those who released our female personnel.”

“As well as compare notes on our guests this evening. I’d like your input on their views.” Her arm was still tucked in his and he gave her hand a pat. “It may take a few hours, you understand.”

“Totally. An all night brainstorming session. Could you order that we not be disturbed for any matter?”

Cyrus actually laughed. “There’s a reason why we have Marine guards.” he said. “And we can stop by my office and retrieve an excellent bottle of Remy Martin X.O. I keep tucked away for late night brainstorming.”

“I like the way you think, Cyrus Beene.”

“The thought is reciprocal, Madame. Somebody around here has to do the heavy lifting, even on a night like this.” he said. Cyrus didn’t finish his thought out loud. That sometimes he thought he was the only one who did any real thinking at all.

But it was nice to have an ally for a change.