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Of Moles and Men — and Walking the Line

April 5, 2013 1 comment

Taking responsibility for our actions can be an arduous task. Often, the easy way is to, simply, lie. Cover it up. Deny the truth. Sweep reality under the rug, and forget about it. Additionally, it’s often a lot easy to place the blame on somebody else, because if you’re just following orders – or you’re just trying to protect someone – then, it’s not your fault. Not really. You’re just playing a part, playing a role, doing what you’re “supposed” to be doing. Right?

But that raises an interesting question – what’s more dangerous: the lie or when you start to believe the lie?

In last night’s Scandal (Molly, You in Danger Girl – frakkin’ LOVE the Ghost shoutout), so many lies are revealed. Amidst their revelation, some things begin to heal. Let’s start with Fitz poking his nose into Cyrus’s love life and offering him advice, because James has banished Cyrus to a hotel. Now, I don’t know how long Fitz’s been sober, but take away his alcohol and look what happens: he gives a damn. He tells Cyrus, “If you love him, don’t give up. Just…don’t give up.” Cyrus takes that advice to heart, returning home where he and James have the best heart-to-heart. (Communication, people: it’s the secret to any good relationship.) James blames Cyrus for his perjury. Cyrus isn’t buying it, citing that James is merely astonished at himself, because he now knows that he’s capable of lying like that to protect a person that he loves. That good and bad, flawed and full of lies, they both love each other anyway. Because that’s what real love is, isn’t it? When you acknowledge the ugly bits, but love that person unconditionally.

Speaking of ugly bits, Fitz and Mellie consent to give an interview, which is essential to Fitz’s reelection campaign (which hasn’t been announced yet). It’s all smiles, laughter, memories, and…lies. Once the cameras stop rolling, and Fitz and Mellie are alone, Fitz starts to poke at the plaster. Apparently, their meet-cute is nothing more than a meet-lie, predicated on a fable that somebody (Big Jerry?), somewhere crafted to serve their political purpose. Fitz and Mellie’s marriage is another political marriage, and without malice, Fitz tries to talk about how lying wears on him – while wondering if it wears on her (“They sold you to me.”). Mellie is completely taken aback by this line of thinking, because she softly admonishes that “pretending is what’s real.” Which, in terms of a healthy relationship, NO. Hell frakkin’ no. Compromise is one thing. Lying about everything is quite another. You cannot have a real relationship based on a fabricated legend. But this is who Mellie is: ornamental, apparently, from the very beginning. Perfect breeding and background, a chess piece of a person. And to Fitz’s horror, she doesn’t see a problem with it. She isn’t stupid enough to believe the lie, but she believes in the merit of the lie.

Apparently, Fitz has been thinking a lot about truth. So much so that he calls Cyrus up and reveals that he killed Verna Thorton. Cyrus’s reaction, by the way, is so perfectly subtle – because he’s clearly taken aback, but he’s also grappling to discern what the president wants from him. Fitz asked, “Would she forgive me?” And Cy knows that he’s talking about Olivia, and Cy (perhaps smarting from James’s reaction to the truth about Defiance) advises him to keep it from Liv. For her own good, because it’s necessary sometimes – which is, ironically, what Liv did to Fitz, when she kept Defiance from him. Pot, meet kettle. You’re both made of copper. The fact that Fitz asked this question? It’s huge. Because Fitz has been blaming Liv, and himself, but he’s done with the blame. He’s come clean (at least to Cyrus), and he’s taking responsibility. In asking that one question, he’s pulling down the lies he’s been using like armor: that he doesn’t want Liv, that they’re done, that he doesn’t miss her. Love like theirs? It doesn’t diminish, no matter the time or distance. No matter what one of them has, or has not, done. It’s unconditional.

Meanwhile, at Olivia Pope and Associates, it’s revealed that Obsourne is not the mole, he did not commit suicide, and the Gladiators dive back into the case. Along the way, Huck gets stuffed into a giant wooden box, and Quinn (in all her It’s QUINN, BITCH glory) saves him – which really a) bolsters the amazing student-teacher relationship they’ve got going on and b) reminds us that Quinn is pretty damn kickass. This, of course, brings up the issue of Charlie – who calls Cyrus with a “development.” We are probably meant to assume that he’s the one that clobbered Huck and left him to be traumatized. We are also meant to assume that he’s working for Albatross – and since he called Cyrus, we should deduce that Albatross is Cyrus. Except, I’m not buying it. Charlie cannot be 80 places at once – he couldn’t deal with Huck, be at Liv’s apartment (we’ll get that to in a minute), kill Molly (to keep her from revealing the identity of Albatross), and then also be outside the hospital where Liv ended up after a concussion. My guess is that once Olivia told Cyrus that Obsourne wasn’t the mole, Cy called Charlie and had him start to look into it. However, this also brings into question Jake. Jake, with his sweet little puppy dog eyes and questionable motives. Jake, who keeps meeting that mysterious guy in the park. Let’s talk about Jake.

He’s clearly working for the president; at Fitz’s behest, he’s keeping an eye on Liv. Initially, we simply assumed it was because Fitz turned into Buffalo Bill and this was his emotional dirt pit/basket of lotion/or else it gets the hose again. But, no. Fitz is, in his messed up way, protecting Olivia – from the creepy dude who saw skulking around her apartment, who may or may not be Charlie. (Pardon me, while I scrape my brain off of the floor. I’m currently second-guessing basically everyone.) Jake has crossed all sorts of lines, falling for his assignment (because he has fallen for Olivia; he’s not some emotionally bankrupt douchebag). I wonder why he switched off her phone. Was it just so they could spend time together (with the horizontal mambo in mind) or did he know that Creeper Guy was going to visit her apartment? Also, we can assert that since Cyrus didn’t know who the hell Jake was, the Jake/Charlie mole issues are probably parallel plotlines. Given that we still have no idea who the mole really is, the answer is not going to come easy.

Olivia, after striking her head on Jake’s coffee table, ends up in the hospital. Before anyone else comes in, Jake asks her to lie about what happened, to claim that Jake saved her in her own apartment from Creeper Guy. This, we discover, is because Fitz strolls in, thanks Jake for protecting Liv, and then looks absolutely adoringly at her. He’s her Fitz again, and she’s completely shell-shocked – because in a small time span, so much was revealed. We’ve never seen Liv look so blindsided before, except maybe when Fitz gave her the haha, just kidding – don’t wait for me bullshit. Equally horrified was Jake, who spied Fitz embracing Liv through the door to her room. Jake’s expression was one part jealousy, one part oh shit this explains so much.

Fitz, it seems, is done lying. He’s done hiding. He’s done pretending. He went to see Liv in the hospital. Let’s think about that for a minute. First, the last time he was in the hospital? He murdered Verna. Second, it is impossible for him to get away – and yet, when he was told that there was a “situation,” he rushed to Liv’s side.

Pause a moment. He rushed to Liv’s side. The last time he wanted to do that, to drop everything and be there for her? It was when Liv was keeping to her bed, and he was thwarted by Mellie’s induced labor. This time, nothing and no one gets in his way. He’s back in that place where he’ll drop everything for her. The only question is: can she forgive him for being Captain Asshat and for having her spied on? At least we know that Fitz wasn’t simply being a stalkery creeper. While it totally isn’t okay to spy on someone, Fitz’s altruistic motive does make it a bit easier to swallow.

So, which is more dangerous: the lie or when you start to believe the lie? I’d have to say it’s when you believe the lie. Some lies are necessary, especially (and unfortunately) in politics. When David questioned Abby about her feelings for him, because she got kind of frantic when she realized that he was in danger (again) – she protested that she just didn’t want to see him dead. And yet, did anyone (even Abby herself) believe her? Um, no. For Fitz, he’s probably to protest that he was merely trying to protect Olivia. If he’s going to win her back, he’s going to admit that keeping her in the dark – and having cameras put in her home – was probably not the best way to handle…anything. His reasons may have been noble. And in a twisted way, it does illustrate that you can be mad as hell at someone you love, but you still try to protect them/care for them. Sure, it’s mad messed up. But, to quote from Buffy, sometimes love makes you do the wacky.

And hell, Olivia rigged an election because of love. So, I’m fairly certain that no one’s wearing the white hat, and that everybody’s better off in shades of grey. Because life isn’t lived in a black and white world. Instead, living means walking the line. And as the Man in Black once sang, “Because you’re mine, I walk the line.”

what’s done is NOT done: whiskey, tango, foxtrot

February 16, 2013 10 comments

Trust is a fragile thing. It is something that people must earn, must continue to earn – and, once lost, it’s not a thing easily gained back. We surround ourselves with people that we trust, trusting them to various degrees. And yet, what happens when one person breaks that trust? Then, another. And then, finally another. It’s not one, singular pain. It’s total devastation. In relationships, we take people for who they are, see them as they are, and gauge our levels of trust accordingly. This is the danger, I suppose, to putting someone up on a pedestal. Eventually, inevitably, that person is made to fall. That is a hard thing to recover from.

On Thursday’s Scandal (Whiskey Tango Foxtrot), Fitz is reeling. He has lost his grip on himself, on his identity, on his confidence. He’s drinking in the shower in the morning. He doesn’t even react, not really, to the ardent affections of his wife, Mellie. He just wanted whiskey. She wants to give him a blowjob, and he keeps DRINKING, until Cyrus interrupts. Basically, Fitz is every person who has suffered a soul-shattering betrayal. Where getting out of bed is a challenge and regaining perspective seems impossible. Fitz doesn’t get the luxury of spending a month in bed, eating Hagen Daaz and watching bad TV. He’s got a country to run. And we find that he’s seriously off his game. He’s frozen Cyrus out, because he knows the truth about the election. Cyrus, foolishly, turns to Mellie for help – thinking that they are still some kind of bastardized team. And she, only after her own gain ALWAYS, throws Cyrus under the bus, blaming him for the election rigging. “He made us do it.” The Fitz we knew before? He would’ve called bullshit on that. He would’ve recognized Mellie for what and who she is, and known that she was manipulating him. Instead, he asks for her advice on a mission. Then, he follows it, effectively shoving Cy farther into Presidential Siberia (again, brilliantly scripting with the repetition of “Did you need something?”). Listening to Mellie, whose political savvy is lacking, is a terrible decision, and the mission in question is a spectacular failure.

Olivia, on the other hand, is just as broken as Fitz. She is so off of her game that she can’t read people. She may not fall apart in the same way that Fitz does, but she is just as devastated. Approached in a coffee shop by Jake (played by the delightful Scott Foely), he hits on her and she is visibly flattered, unable to see it for what it is: some kind of surveillance. Why? We don’t know. But that was way too coincidental, way too much of a meet-cute to be actual accident. Of course, we discover at the end of the episode that he has cameras all over her apartment AND at OPA. (My first question is when did that happen? And why didn’t Huck notice? You’d think he would be on top of that.) I wonder if Edison has something to do with it. Regardless, Jake ties into Olivia’s current case – which is that someone set poor David Rosen up for murder, killing a woman in his bed. The woman in question is Wendy, a “story-whore,” who made her living by stealing and selling secrets. In turns out that she was in communication with Jake, who works in Intelligence for the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

After ten months (presumably) of not seeing each other, Fitz and Liv are reunited for Ella (Cyrus and James’s ADORABLE daughter) christening. They are godparents. Fitz and Olivia both look entirely stricken when seeing each other for the first time, even more so when they’re hands brush against each other during the ceremony. Afterwards, at the White House, Olivia goes to leave and Fitz follows her, consumed by a whirlwind of powerful emotion. Pulling her into an electrical closet, without a word, they sleep together. Contrasting that scene to the one with Fitz and Mellie in the shower, and you can see the difference between a convenient relationship and one that’s rife with passion. Fitz feels hurt and betrayed, but that doesn’t diminish his feelings of love for Olivia. You can still love someone and hate something they’ve done. That’s what love is, sometimes: forgiveness.

Truthfully, after they’re emotionally charged tryst, Fitz claims that he may not be able to control his erections around her, but that doesn’t mean that he wants her to wait for him. Why bring that up, in that moment? Because when all is said and done, he doesn’t really want to lose her. He is actively trying to wound her, because he’s hurt. And we all lash out at those we love the most, when we are that level of emotional decimation. She tries to apologize for Defiance, and he calls it a betrayal – not a mistake. That is why Fitz is hurting so much, that is why he can’t see or think straight. He feels like the one person who believed in him without exception did not actually believe in him. To borrow an analogy from the show, he found out that there is no Santa Claus, when he thought HE was Santa.

But you know what’s important about that scene? They had a conversation. It may have been short, but they got things out in the open. Each knows where the other stands, and both are clearly miserable with the way that things are. Fitz says one thing, but his actions say something entirely different. He could’ve let Liv leave the party without a word. He didn’t just follow her out of lust. They haven’t spoken, and we all know that when that happens, Fitz turns into a time bomb stuffed into a teddy bear. Tick. Tick. Tick. Liv, time and again, is the only thing that can defuse him. (Okay, that sounded LESS dirty in my head. Moving on…)

After his rendezvous with Liv, we find Fitz and Mellie in the shower together again. This scene is completely awkward, because here are two people who are so disconnected from each other. There’s no love. There’s no passion. She always manages to not see Fitz. She manages to ignore the emotions clearly written on his face, bumbling through “handling” him without paying attention to him. Fitz has a spaz fit, because he doesn’t want to intimate with Mellie. They share the most dispassionate kiss I’ve ever seen (again, WHISKEY!). The entire scene made me uncomfortable, because of the complete lack of emotional connection. Right there, that’s every passionless relationship ever created. That’s Mellie, trying to take advantage of Fitz, by attempting to keep him under her thumb when he’s so clearly vulnerable. Mellie is exploiting that for her own personal gain. In her mind, if she controls Fitz (and he foolishly IS listening to her), she controls the country. That is a scary thought.

We take out our pain on those we are closet to, because we expect them not to run when we’re ugly. We expect them not to turn from us when we’re at our worst, our weakest – when all we see when we look in the mirror is a monster, a failure, a fraud, a person undeserving. When we are as vulnerable as Fitz is, we lean on those we love. But for Fitz, the love of his life has sent him reeling. He’s grappling and grasping, drinking and disassociating – without actually dealing. His pattern is that he drinks when he’s miserable. This is the worst we’ve ever seen him, even considering the time his father spent of his campaign.

It takes time to earn back trust. To build up a willingness to try. The fact remains that without Olivia, Fitz is a weaker person. His gut is off. His instincts are frayed. He’s a lesser version of himself. For Olivia, it is the same. She’s tried to fill the void by keeping busy, by hurling herself into exercise and work. But that only takes the edge off. It does not negate the problem, the heartache, the hole that is doing the foxtrot in her life. Neither is whole without the other. Regardless of the particulars of the situation, they are less when they are apart. This separation is destroying them both, and while Fitz may protest that they are done, one look at those two – one look between those two – proves that could not be further from the truth. And, like dirty little secrets, the truth always comes out.

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Who Are You, and What Do You Want: Things We Do for Love

January 18, 2013 1 comment

Who are you, what do you want?

Those are two very basic questions. And yet, often times, people can’t answer them. Think about a person who makes you feel small. Think about being afraid to show who you really are. Think about holding back and holding in for the sake of an image or idea.

Then answer me this: if you aren’t true to yourself, how can you know – or go after – what you want? You can’t. Not really. You’re too busy living a lie, filling a role, playing a part, wearing a mask. You’re too busy hiding yourself from, perhaps, yourself. In last night’s Scandal (A Criminal, a Whore, an Idiot, and a Liar), there were questions and secrets, revelations and facades, and revealed motives.

In a flashback, we met Fitz’s domineering, demanding bastard of a father (called in to help, during his campaign for President). As soon as he entered the scene, Fitz literally shrank in stature, stopped making eye contact, and put a wall so spectacular that you could probably see it from space. He, interestingly, fell into his cups – which appears to be a habit whenever he is abjectly miserable. Everyone seems to be kissing Jerry Grant’s ass, except Olivia, who also seems to be the only person who sees Fitz basically internally flailing. Of course, when his anger turned inward finally spurts out, it’s misdirected at campaign workers and Liv calls him out on his bullshit. I know you, because you let me know you. Then, later, Show them who you are.

Such a simple statement. But it is the best advice. You cannot win a heart, or the heart of a nation, if you don’t show yourself. If you aren’t honest and even vulnerable. If you are false, eventually people catch on. Some quicker than others. Which brings us to a question: who is Liv? In this flashback, we see her FINALLY – after a wonderful, wrenching scene with Cyrus, in which Jeff Perry is fucking brilliant, invading her personal space and generally being mad persuasive – consent to rig the election for Fitz. And we finally discover why she did it. The others, their gains were readily ascertained. But Liv? Liv did it for Fitz. Liv did it for love. Liv got her hands dirty, compromising herself, so that Fitz benefited. It was selfless. This, interestingly, is in contrast to present day Mellie, who forged Fitz’s signature, which forced him to leave the hospital and put his health in danger in order to keep her out of jail.

Show them who you are.

We are, I think, what we do for love. The parts we surrender, the parts we offer up. Love isn’t fact-based. For instance, Liv’s boyfriend Edison Davis can explain what her moods mean, if she’s angry, she’s hiding something. She, perfectly, refuses to answer her questions. She has walls. She has secrets. He knows her, but he doesn’t know her. That is a major, inexplicable difference. He can’t get under her skin enough to make her reveal herself, not really. In fact, Edison only manages to provoke Liv – which really made their last scene together kind of…suspect. He PROPOSED. They broke, and he proposed. It seemed a little odd to me, and then I remembered: they were engaged once before. Is this a pattern? When she’s about to walk, does he just randomly pop the question? And Edison, really – if she won’t the name of her last serious ex-boyfriend, she doesn’t trust you. And if she doesn’t trust you, that isn’t exactly something to build a marriage on. That’s quicksand.

Speaking of trust – or a blatant lack thereof – throughout the course of the episode, Mellie is simply pleased as hell that everything is going according to plan. Everything is coming up roses. Sally eventually resigns as acting president. Cyrus moves back into his office. And the status quo is returned to normal. Except it isn’t. Because Fitz is different. Fitz isn’t normal. Fitz, as Liv pointed out, nearly died. This tends to change a person, because it puts into perspective what really matters – and who really matters. Life is short. Too short to be spent in the pursuit of things that do not matter, standing beside people who don’t completely, totally, and madly love. In the last episode, we saw that Fitz immediately wanted to talk to Liv when he woke up, not Mellie. Liv. At the close of this episode, poor injured Fitz is in bed. He looks terrible. Exhausted. Emotionally wrung out. He’s put his health of the line to save Mellie. And she’s sitting there, chattering like a magpie of ridiculously superficial importance. She is talking, but she doesn’t see him at all. It’s like he could be anyone. There is no kindness or tenderness there. He’s a prop. A well-placed political prop. He nearly died, and Liv showed him more sweetness and concern in a single kiss than Mellie did throughout the whole episode. She doesn’t ask him how he’s doing, how he’s falling. She’s talking at him, not to him. She doesn’t see him at all.

And, almost foolishly, she asks him: if you could have anything, what would it be? And Fitz, without missing a beat and with all head injury-induced word drama, says a divorce. BAM.

Who are you, and what do you want? Answer those questions honestly, and it reveals exactly where your heart lies. Because who you are, and what you do for love, is what matters the most. And Fitz, have been through a traumatic event, finally can stop being the image of what people want and expect. He can stop playing a role, face deep in Scotch, and be true to himself. Because, President or no, life is too short for it to spent in a cage, even one as pretty as the oval office.

All Roads

November 9, 2012 Leave a comment

 

In life, it often seems like perception is everything. The image of someone is more important than who they are, because that image is mistaken for who they are. Everything has a PR spin from the first time you sneak in your parents’ house at dawn to why, exactly, there’s a strange hair in your husband’s car. Perception is everything. The truth is messy. There is no truth that is truly pretty, truly polished. All the gleam in an illusion, a last line of defense.

In last night’s episode of Scandal, Olivia takes on a client who was Fitz’s competitor in the election. Initially, the story is he walked in on his wife being raped and shot the guy. As the episode progresses, it then comes out that she was having an affair with the man, a builder working on their house. Tearfully, the governor’s wife falls on her Roman sword, reflecting on how her husband changed after losing the election – a election that was basically won by Olivia, because she knows how to set the perfect stage. She is, despite her love of truth, full of dirty little secrets. The governor lost that election, because she launched some kind of perception-based misdirect, proposing that the Governor was soft of guns. The irony now being, of course, that he SHOT a man with just such a gun. Both the Governor and his wife lay blame at Olivia’s feet for changing the course of their history, by getting Fitz elected. As the episode is so aptly titled, all roads lead to Fitz, after all.

The kicker is not the wife’s affair, or the fact that her husband became a different man after suffering the political loss that he did. It is that he knew his wife was having an affair. His murder was premeditated. In fact, he intended to kill his wife, her lover, and himself – until, that is, she cried rape. (A plot point which I kind of hate, because it complicates the idea of a rape victim – which is a difficult enough position in this country. But that’s another story for another time.) The governor, being a ruthlessly clever man, let his wife take the blame for a murder her intended to commit. Not only that, he used it to his political advantage. You see, the gun-happy governor isn’t soft on guns, anymore. Olivia, as she complains on her couch to Cyrus (who came to visit her, because he’s mad at his husband – which is both hilarious and perfectly played), doesn’t it like it when the bad guy gets away. Neither does the audience. Cyrus (the wonderful Jeff Perry) quips that she shouldn’t have come to DC.

As I said, perception is everything. Lest we forget the ominous meeting of the Five at the beginning of the episode, it appears that Olivia, Mellie, Cyrus, Hollis Doyle, and Senator Verna Thorton are involved in some kind of cover-up having to do with the whole Quinn Perkins debacle. In exchange for their help in that situation, everybody got something. The only stopping point at the moment is David (Joshua Malina), who is seeking the truth like a rabid, crazy dog with a bone. They offer him a misdirect and his job back, unbeknownst to him at who is pulling the strings, and it almost worked – until Abby discovered that Olivia orchestrated it all. Honestly, I have huge problems believing that Huck would be so careless as to leave that evidence on his computer screen. But, willing suspension of disbelief… (I also am not sure I buy that Abby would be working against Olivia, but we shall see.)

One of my favorite parts of this episode, however, has to do with Cyrus and Mellie (how amazing is Bellamy Young?). You see, Mellie has gotten used to wearing the pants. She has gotten used to making demands, pushing Fitz around, and even circumventing proper channels and methods when it suits her. She doesn’t like having her hands dirty and she attempts to strong-arm Cy, who is just about to burst with rage, since his husband (who wants a baby) has come back to work as part of the White House Press Corp. Possibly the most awkward position to be in when one is the President’s Chief of Staff. Cyrus calls Mellie a “terrifying political animal,” before point out the menacing fact that he is much, much worse.


Cyrus isn’t fooled by smoke and mirrors. He knows exactly who people are, where they stand, and what they are capable of. That is, perhaps, how he knew he needed Olivia on Fitz’s campaign all those years ago. I like the scene with Cyrus and Olivia, having wine on her couch. I like the idea of these two having a history and a friendship. And yet, given last season, I don’t trust Cyrus. I want to, but I don’t. Because the audience has seen him get his hands bloody, and not in a for the of others Huck kind of way. He is a monster, but he’s also the monster you want on YOUR side.

But speaking of Huck (Guillermo Diaz), Huck as a date with a girl from his AA group. And honestly? It is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. He, too, is worried about perception and appearance. What should he wear? Where should they go? He is about as lost as lost gets. He takes her to a restaurant where neither of them can pronounce the food, and he doesn’t look at ease – or like himself – until he shows her what he likes to do for fun. Which is…spy on people. But AA girl doesn’t seem daunted by this, and they kiss. And I awwww’d. But one has to wonder: would she feel the same if she really saw Huck for who he is? Not a recovering alcoholic, but a recovering assassin/murderer? This is a ramped up quandary that happens in all relationships: will you still like me when my hair’s a mess, the makeup’s gone, and I’m wearing an old tshirt? When the glitz, glamour, smoke and mirrors are gone – and I’m just me? One wonders. One hopes. Even, it seems, Huck.

Lastly, we’re going to talk about Olivia. Senator Edison Davis is pursuing her, hardcore. He even goes so far as to point out that she may be saying no, but she’s not telling him to go away. Olivia claims she isn’t ready to date, which leads us (the audience) to perceive that she’s genuinely interested in her ex-finacee. And yet, when Cyrus brings up the subject, Olivia freezes. She looks like she wants to crawl in her wine glass, because Olivia is broken. Olivia, I think, wants to seem like she’s moving on. Perhaps she wants that idea to snake its way back to the President. Because all roads lead to Fitz. That is perfect phrasing, by the way, because it has so many layers of meaning. Everything reflects on Fitz, since he’s attending the G8 conference. If someone in his circle does something to detract from his presence there, that also affects his image. For Olivia, though, even though she tries to walk away – all roads lead back to Fitz, eventually. Because you can’t walk away from your own heart. Fitz is center. He’s the middle of a maze. He’s where so many things began for Olivia: her heart, her career. So, she may be toying with the idea of Senator Davis (even letting her employees/friends overhear), but it feels like a hollow charade. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not so much about Davis himself – but about the attention. About feeling wanting. There’s a certain thrill in realizing that your ex, even after all these years, still carries one hell of a torch for you. And after a bad breakup, who doesn’t want to feel wanted?

I’m curious to see how it all plays out — when the dirty secrets are revealed, what will the fallout be? Rest assured, as the tagline says, dirty little secrets always come out. Maybe the secrets themselves don’t matter as much. Maybe the trick is that it’s all in the way they are presented.