Not Alone

Back at Ft. Harrison, the President is still in protective custody. And he's still stuck with the more-than-spunky amazon-ish Afroasian president...

At least he's been reunited with the love of his life. But even so, Fitz is being compelled to cheat on the First Lady with two women...which, as a rightist politician, he doesn't know how he feels about...

It seems a bit symbolic, that both women are either African or as good as... Then again, it could just be a coincidence...

Once again, Fitz has retired. Hopefully, Ophir won't have another nightmare that compels her to sleep in the same bed as Fitz again...

For now, Liv, still under a thousandth her normal size, sleeps on the side of the bed that Mellie would, if she were here. She's happy that she's not. She sure wishes Fitz would divorce her, though. If he was truly over her...

She's never felt more at-home, in Fitz's presence. He's like a god, to her. He's so godly, she's almost tempted to forget all about Jehovah. Not that she's a committed Christian, or anything...

Fuck; if she were a Christian, she'd take a weekly Sabbath at work... Her very existence is a direct violation of the Fourth Commandment...

In his sleep, he reaches for her, and grabs the bedding, all around her. She squeals, as he almost swats her, like a bed bug. She...wouldn't have minded if he had. His grasp is so strong, and manly, and...

Is she crazy?! She can't stay like this! She's a lawyer! She's got clients! She can't help them when she's like this... Although, as much as she hates people, this COULD give her an opportunity to find a way to do business with them without...having to MEET them...

Plus, Fitz likes her like this; he said so himself...and VERY sincerely, if Liv dares say so... She'd sure hate to break his poor, poor little pokin' heffalump hard...

Nonsense; there's GOTTA be a way out of this. So, she takes a trip down to Fitz's slipper, where this all resumed...assuming it began with that client who knew that creepy gypsy witch, who did this to her...

On her ass, she lands in his shoe. It stinks...but with luck, she'll get used to it.

Far ahead, it's like a dark cave. Liv knows there aren't any bats in there. Nonetheless, Fitz doesn't really monitor the traffic in and out of here. ANYTHING could be in the toe, just waiting to pounce on her...

This isn't the time; she's gotta find her way back to normal...even if it means crashing that gypsy witch if she's in the shower, or something. But then, if she's truly that old-school, it seems she'd still be taking baths in wooden stock tanks...

Liv braves the shadows. It stinks in here. She stumbles. She whispers into the darkness, begging it to make her big again.

"Just," she whispers, "don't take me back to that witch. She's creepy, and... I never actually ASKED her to do this to me. I just wanted her to get Fitz to feel more...and express more..."

Behind her, something approaches. She sighs in despair, as she doesn't sense it.

"What have I done," Liv whispers. "I've ruined my own life...all for the love of... I'm not sure what, but CLEARLY, I took the wrong path. I fix everything for everyone; why can't I fix me and Fitz?"

"Entschuldigen Sie, bitte," a strange hand touches her shoulder, "aber…?"

Liv screams, and beats the shit out of whoever's trying to attack her. She feels bad, when he goes down as easily as he does...

In his sleep, Fitz hears Liv's scream, but doesn't completely understand. "Liv," he mutters.

In the other room, Ophir's got lots of bedding stuffed between her thighs. "Elias," she mutters...

She drags him back into the heel of Fitz's shoe, so she can get a better look at him. She's dragging him by his legs. They're nice legs, and very hairy... But not hairy enough to leave Fitz's for, understand...

At last, she gets to the moonlight. She drops the guys legs, gets down, and looks him over.

He's blond. And unless Liv perceives things wrong...he's her size...if not slightly smaller...

She waits until he wakes. With luck, dawn won't happen before...

It feels like forever. Alas, it only takes ten minutes. The strange man...more of a boy, in ways...groans, and lifts his head. He holds, with his hand, where Liv hit him, and moans.

Liv places her foot on his chest, and pins him. He seems fearful, that her foot, and leg, and body, are those of an African female...

He looks up, into her camel toe. He seems terrified.

"Who are you," Liv demands, "and why are you my size?"

His eyes move around. Liv snaps her fingers.

"HEY! I asked you a question! Two, actually! Do you really think that just because I'm black, that you German folk can..."

"Was?! Nein, nein! I'm not racist! Or, MAYBE I am, but..." He stops, and takes a breath. "There's a LOT to say."

Liv removes her foot, helps him up, and dusts him off. "Okay," she says. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

It doesn't seem to disturb Liv, that she's in lingerie, and he's in briefs...or that her lingerie is white, and his briefs are black... Alas, he seems MUCH more than disturbed, right now...

He nods. "My name is Elias Bek. I was born in North Rhine-Westphalia. I was the middle child of a cheap farm family..."

"The OTHER beginning," Liv corrects him. "The one I care about."

"Naturlich," he acknowledges, "the one where I met you. So, it began on a nice sunny spring day in Cologne-that's my hometown. It was a great day for a politician to make a speech. I was taking a journalism class, and was assigned to write a report about a politician's visit to a foreign country..."

In time, they both get out of Fitz's slipper, and find somewhere safer to sit; safer, understand... Elias tells Liv his story...which Liv finds MUCH more than inspirational...