Scandal Recap (And More) 2.14: “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot”

At the christening, Fitz becomes hotheaded with Cyrus again (I knew it wouldn’t last), and it’s all thanks to Mellie that he sends in a seal team to rescue the hostages. (Spoiler: they turn out not to be there.) We later find out this is because there is a mole in The White House. Where is Claire Danes when you need her?!

Olivia and Fitz are conveniently Ella’s godparents because that is what Cyrus probably meant in his conversation with Mellie about Fitz needing another confidant. In what must be the most awkward place to have sexual tension, Fitz and Olivia stare at each other longingly as Ella is being baptized. This obviously erupts afterward in the sex scene from the beginning of the episode. Why? I have no idea. Did she have a premonition in earlier? Sigh. This is where my cynicism kicks in.

After the sex scene, which, for the first time, I had to leave the room for, not because I’m a prude (LOL to that notion) but because, for the first time it was less romantic and more two people going at it like two hobos on a ham sandwich. At a christening. Something off about how they were together in that IT closet. Apparently I was right–because after Olivia attempts to apologize for Defiance, Fitz says, and I quote:

“That was not a mistake, it was a betrayal… We are done. I may not be able control my erections around you, but that does not mean I want you. We are done.”

Image via ABC.com.

Fitz is an asshat. There’s really just no other way to put it.

Meanwhile, Rosen found Wendy’s flash drive, which holds a trove of highly classified information. Where did she get her hands on this information?

Fitz, is in the shower again. He shows he is bad with every single woman he has ever been with, and he tries to become passionate with his wife. He looks completely disgusted, which I’m sure Mellie very much enjoys. Again: what an asshat.

Captain Donut asks Olivia out for the second time. She agrees, which he sees because he is spying on her from his living-room surveillance of her apartment. Is it possible for Olivia to not have a creepy relationship? The answer seems to be no.

And Now For The Extra–I Promise It’s Relevant

Image via ABC.com.

When I was a 22-year-old living in New York City, I met a man. He was moderately famous, which at that age, already had me head over heels. He was considerably older than me, considerably richer (which is to say, he had money,) and very into me, as I was to him. I met him a week after I moved to the Upper West Side the summer of 2005, and I dated him until I moved back to DC, having exhausted my immature mind and wallet in New York. This fellow was the first relationship I ever shared a mutual love with–that is to say, I loved him at the same time he loved me.

I have this endgame love fantasy that when I meet a man…the man…one balmy Saturday, we’ll wake up, leash the dog (a toy poodle or a shiba inu or something else fuzzy and precious), and I’ll walk out the door with the dog, the man, and my Celine tote–overpriced, but in this fantasy I can afford it. We go to the farmer’s market, picking up locally grown kale, bluefish, and a jar of pomegranate preserves for dinner that night. You know–super-gay, comfortable, perfect, aesthetically pleasing love on the weekend. He was the first guy I was able to visually place in that fantasy.

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