With This Love

                Fitz stifled a cough and cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus his attention on the advisors who sat around the large conference table. The voices faded to a low drone as his attention shifted to Olivia. She was his greatest distraction and, since his divorce from Mellie, his almost constant companion. Publicly they were just stepping out of the shadows, a new relationship. Privately they were spending stolen hours at Camp David or in the residence when the agents he trusted were on duty. He didn’t risk being seen coming and going from her apartment, not since pictures had leaked, reminding himself that the optics needed to reflect sufficient time between his divorce and that level of intimacy with another woman.

“Sir?” Cyrus’ voice was stern, no doubt he was fully aware of what currently held Fitz’s attention.

“Let’s pick this up tomorrow,” suggested Fitz pushing back from the table and standing with a swipe of his brow. He felt flushed and was beginning to think that he owed it to more than fantasies of the woman he loved.

                Cyrus followed close behind when Fitz walked through the door and started down the hall in the direction of the oval office. “You have to get your head in the game,” he implored in a loud whisper. For several seconds he thought Fitz hadn’t heard him as the president continued on his path. “I honestly thought you two would get it out of your systems but since you have gone public both of you are nearly useless.”              

                When he reached the door, Fitz turned to face Cyrus. He eyed his Chief of Staff, considering his words, “You don’t get to comment on my personal life, Cy. You work for me, remember?”

“Look at you,” the older man was now indignant, “Cheeks red, all sweaty like a high school freshman crushing on the head cheerleader.”

“Cyrus,” Fitz nearly yelled, again mopping his brow as he strode to his desk. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and loosened his tie before taking a seat.

“Is this,” Cyrus gestured broadly to Fitz’s overall unkempt appearance, “all about Olivia?”

“It’s nothing,” Fitz unbuttoned his top button and leaned back further in his seat, “I’m just a little rundown. I think I may have caught Teddy’s cold or something.”

                Cyrus crossed to stand in front of the desk, a look of concern clouding his face, “Maybe I should send for the doctor?”

                Fitz waved him off, his head slumped against the back of the leather chair, eyes closed. He was convinced he just needed a few minutes of quiet, time to turn off his responsibilities and focus on the people and things that made him happy. Still his responsibilities weren’t easily deferred, they were policy and legislation and decisions big and small that impacted millions of people. He sighed and lifted his head, thinking Cyrus had left the office but finding him still staring in trepidation.

“I’m fine Cyrus,” Fitz insisted before pushing the intercom button on the black desk phone, “Lauren, what is my next appointment?”

“The Commerce Secretary, Sir,” came Lauren’s prompt reply.

“Thank you Lauren. Please send her in as soon as she arrives.”

                Fitz again settled back in his chair, this time crossing his ankle over his thigh in a relaxed pose as he opened a bottle of spring water, downing a third of the bottle in seconds. He placed the container on the desk and again met Cyrus’ gaze, “Did you need anything else?”

                Cyrus, however, was undeterred, “You can’t just dismiss me. You look awful, you likely have a fever and you should really be seen by a doctor not meeting with cabinet members.”