Scandal (2012–2018): Season 3, Episode 4 - Say Hello to My Little Friend - full transcript

Pope & Associates agree to work with a philandering senator.

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You're sure it's safe to go
back to your apartment?

Rowan knows where I am.
B613 always knows where I am.

It doesn't matter where I go.

I'm not the one
who wants me to leave.

Jake.

You're safer if I'm here.

You and I both know
I'm already being defended.

By the President?

Does he know
your father's command?

Does he?

No.



So how can he defend you?
How can he defend you

if he doesn't know
who your enemy is?

My father wouldn't hurt me,
not physically.

He put me in a hole,
which was bad.

What was worse...
Every other day

he had two guys haul me
out of that hole,

and he stood there and watched

as they beat the crap
out of me.

They did things to me
that you can't imagine.

And then he had me bandaged up.

Set the bones,
stitched the cuts,

gave me a shot of penicillin,

'cause he wanted me alive
and then back in the hole.

That was just for fun.



Olivia, he would hurt you.

Your father?
He would slit your throat

and drink your blood
if it served the republic,

and I think you know that.

I think you have nightmares
about that.

So why are you pretending like
you're daddy's little girl?

- I can't. I can't have you here. He
can't know you're still here. - Liv...

He made Huck kill.
Just like that.

He flipped his switch,
and Huck is killing again.

My father did that
just so I'd know he could.

He's in charge.
He's in charge of everything.

- Which is why we have to stop him.
- No. I can't be involved!

Whatever's going on,
I don't want to be a part of it.

I don't want to know.
I don't want to see.

I don't want to help.

I need to go back to
doing what worked.

Eyes straight ahead,
no looking around corners,

no peeping in shadows,
no asking questions,

no stepping outside the lines.

I need to be a good girl,
go to Sunday dinners.

- Liv... - I've never heard of B613.
I've never heard of you.

- Harrison.
- We got the job.

- They said yes?
- They said yes.

Can I come up?

No.

Okay. No.

- I don't know. Ugh.
- You don't know?

- I don't know.
- Okay, I'm gonna go.

- Don't be mad.
- I have a case to prep.

Actually, it's right up
your alley.

The Senator who murdered
the girl he was sexting.

The family's like a deer in
the headlights with the media.

They're good people
who could really use some gladiating.

Sorry.

What's up?

Electric bill's getting...
paid, Abby.

Lights are staying on!

Well... good night.

Good night?
Well, I was serious

about the girl's family
and the gladiating.

I'm sorry, David.

But... we already have a gig.

My name is Huck,
and I'm an alcoholic.

- Hello, Huck.
- Hi, Huck.

So, uh... I fell
off the wagon.

I let my guard down, and I...

drank whiskey.

The sad thing is that
I was offered a bottle

a month ago,
and I didn't take it.

I was strong.

But this time was different.

This time I didn't take
the whiskey.

It was put in my hand.

The... decision
was taken away from me.

And I drank...



and drank...

and drank.

I wish I could say
that I hated it,

but I didn't.

I liked it.

Because whiskey is good.

Whiskey feels like home.

And I just...

Crap!

Crap, crap, crap!



What?

- The money train's arrived.
- I'll be right there.

♪ Around

♪ do you love me, Mary Jane?

Do it, Cy.
Open your mouth.

Get that thing away from me.

Open your mouth, Cy,
and give it to me.

- I know you want to.
- Stop it!

One quote, Cy. One tiny quote
I can take back to my editor.

I am not going to comment...

On the personal life of a Senator.

The personal life of a Senator?

He took a picture of his wang

and killed the woman
he sent it to.

This in a party that already

has a wang problem
because of your boss.

So don't sit there and act
like this murder trial

has nothing to do with you.

It has everything
to do with you.

Which is why you're going
to put this memo down

and give me a quote
from the White House,

who has yet to respond
to repeated allegations

that the party it presides over

is suffering through its worst
P.R. crisis in years.

One sentence, Cy,

and I promise I will
leave you alone.

No comment.

Ugh! Bitch.

Senator Richard Meyers...
by day, he represents

the great state of Washington

in our nation's
highest legislative body.

By night, he's a perving,
sexting pervy-perv

who uses the handle
"Redwood Johnson."

Gross.

- Say the thing again.
- We need the money.

- We need the money.
- We need the money.

- We need the money. Right.
- Okay. We need the money.

We've had worse clients...
I think.

Haven't we?

Pics of his junk
aren't the problem.

It's the welcome recipient...
A miss Desiree Oaks.

She saved them all, tried to use
them to blackmail the Senator

- and ended up murdered.
- Bludgeoned to death.

The weapon was never recovered,
but the Senator's prints

were found all over
Desiree's apartment.

What were you doing
at her apartment, Senator?

Well, I went to talk to her,

try and get some those photos
back, resolve this mess.

Was I upset? Sure.

But I did not so much as lay
one finger on that girl.

Were there any other
women you engaged

in this sort
of relationship with?

No, it was just one stupid
little trifle. That's it.

And as the record shows, he was
home at the time of the murder.

And you'd be the one to testify
to that, Mrs. Meyers?

Yes. Absolutely.

Shelley Meyers,
the Senator's alibi.

She's a doting mother,
partner at a law firm,

all-around upstanding citizen.
If she's still supporting him

- after everything he's put her
through...- He must not be guilty.

That's the message
we're sending.

Jury always reads and watches
news stories about the trial,

despite orders by the judge
to the contrary.

So while I argue your case,

Olivia's gonna work
on your perception,

both in the courtroom
and in the media.

Well, I appreciate that,
miss Pope.

I'm about to mount
a re-election campaign,

and I'm bleeding
approval ratings.

We'll do what we can, Senator.

- Thanks very much, Liv.
- Yeah.

- Your daughter?
- Uh, she's in Bethesda with my sister.

I thought it best to
keep her as far away

from all this as possible.

Luckily, she has a history
report to keep her busy.

- Elizabeth Cady Stanton.
- Oh, worthy subject.

Mm.

Um... look, um...

I know you think my husband...

that what he did
was creepy, and it was.

There's no doubt about it.

But the man who sent
those pictures...

That was a different Richard.

And we have been through
marriage counseling,

we've talked endlessly,

and he's a better person now.

And, in case you've
forgotten, innocent.

So I won't let the world hang
him for something he didn't do.

You of all people should
know how wrong that is.

He made one mistake, miss Pope.

One. And...

We all deserve a second chance.

Exactly.

Is it true that
the Senator is a sex addict?

Senator, did you have
sexual relations

with miss Oaks
before you killed her?

Senator, are you and Mrs. Meyers
getting a divorce?

We're very sad about what
happened to Desiree Oaks,

but my client isn't a murderer.

He didn't kill miss Oaks.

The only thing he's guilty of
is bad judgment.

He texted a girl...
One girl.

He made one mistake.

And, Kelly, can you read
the text messages

you received from the defendant
to the court, please?

"I thought about you
so many times today.

I want to shave you, put you
on my lap..."

- "Make you my little..."
- Butterfly.

That's what he used to call me.

"Spread your wings, butterfly.

Spread 'em wide
and tell me how..."

"I can be your daddy.

You wanna feel my paddle,
baby girl?"

"Just beat me up.
Make me your..."

"Toilet."

He wanted to take pictures
of me on the toilet.

- "Lick 'em."
- "Grab 'em."

"Squeeze 'em until they
hit you in the face."

I don't even know
what that means.

No further questions.

It still doesn't mean
he murdered her.

Tell that to the jury.

While Reston was
the clear winner

on the issues of
last night's Democratic debate,

the best moment of the night
belonged to

congresswoman
Josephine Marcus of Montana.

I don't think it is a matter
of the President

showing leadership
on the issue.

At this point,
I'm more interested

in him not showing
certain things.

I think it's high time
the man tame his cobra

and keep the lid
on the basket

so our country can focus
on education,

keeping jobs here at home.
I mean, honestly...

Are you watching this hack?

Tame my cobra? Not bad.

- It's good. Catchy. Good?
- I don't know who's hurting us more,

- the pervert or this one. - Let the
dems take all the free shots they want

now during the primary.

That way, if they try
these jokes in the election,

they'll be beating
a dead horse.

Well, regardless, we need
to keep Fitz above the fray.

Focus on national security,
pick a fight with Russia,

- something.
- G8 summit's coming up.

G8. No one
pays attention to the G8.

Half of America can't even spell G8.

No. We need a war. We need
to liberate some people.

You can't take the stand
right now.

David Rosen will rip you
to shreds.

He's made this case
all about you, Senator...

Your failings, your flaws,

how someone like you could have
murdered Desiree Oaks.

Is this still going on?

The texting? No.
Of course not.

- This all happened before I was
arrested. - So what do we do now?

We make it about the girl.

We need to find other reasons
she might have been killed.

You had other women.
Maybe she had other men.

Are we really going to...

- Slut-shame a dead girl?
- All aboard.

Mr. Granville,

would you please describe your
relationship with the victim?

Like a mentor.
She would come to me

with work questions, problems,

sometimes just to vent.

Did she ever mention the
defendant, Senator Meyers?

She said she received
threatening texts from him.

And when did she tell you this?

The night before she died.

We were at dinner,
and she said that she was

afraid for her life,

that Senator Meyers had
told her he would kill her.

Your witness.

Mr. Granville,
would you say that

you and Desiree had
dinner together often?

No more than any mentor
occasionally checking in

on his protégée.

So once a week,
according to these receipts?

I suppose.

And at these dinners
with your protégée,

did you present her with gifts
of high-end jewelry,

handbags, and at one time,

a blackglama mink jacket,

which your waitress said,
and I quote,

"I would kill my own mother for"?

Well, you're quote a mentor,
Mr. Granville.

Maybe a better term
would be "sugar daddy."

Objection!

Coming to light in the
Senator Meyers scandal

is that the victim,
Desiree Oaks,

had multiple suitors
supporting her lavish lifestyle.

Objection.

- Rent.
- Objection.

- Car payments.
- Objection!

Even her gym membership
was paid for by...

Men who enjoy supporting
a young woman financially

in exchange for her company.

But isn't that essentially
prostitution by another name?

Whatever you choose to call it,

I think it's fair to say there's
more than one man out there

who could have been
jealous enough

to commit the crime of passion

that sadly ended
Desiree Oaks' life.

I object to all of this!

Mr. Rosen, on what grounds?

And congresswoman
Dandridge has assured me

that she's going to push
her colleagues

to follow her example

so that facilities such as
the Adams Irving medical center

become the rule in this country
and not the exception.

Thank you, Samantha.

And thanks, everyone.

Thank you.

Yeah.
This way?

Madame First Lady,

what'd you think of
Josephine Marcus' performance

at the Democratic debate
last night?

I think it's great anytime a new
female talent enters politics.

Even if she's a democrat?

Doesn't matter what party
you're from.

All of us women have to break through
the same glass ceiling.

Blah, blah, blah.

Give any piece of trailer trash
a push-up bra and a microphone,

and those stupid flyovers will eat it
up like fried twinkies... Mellie...

My mic's still on.

Our daughter was
a kind, generous person.

Every day she made us proud
to be her parents.

She's dead. The things
these people are saying...

- They should be ashamed.
- Turn it off.

Tomorrow's all about
prepping the Senator's wife.

This entire case hangs

on whether the jury
believes her alibi.

I don't want any surprises
up on the stand. We're on it.

Huck.

I was worried about you, okay?

- Why?
- What?

Why are you worried about me?
I come to work. I do my job.

I go home. I have appropriate
emotional responses,

and I'm taking social cues
for behavior.

I am being normal.
Why are you worried?

You're not...

You're not talking to me,

not like you used to.
We're not...

Look, I wanted to know what was up.
So you followed me.

- Yeah.
- Friends don't follow friends.

I'm not a client, Quinn.
You don't fix me.

- But those meetings do? - Those
meetings are supposed to be anonymous.

They're also supposed
to be for alcoholics.

Well... (Sighs) Huck, wait.
Who did you...

You said you drank the whiskey.

That's a person, right?

You killed someone
and it felt good?

Like a high?

- What do you want?
- To talk.

- What do you want?
- To talk.

- So talk.
- Who did command have you kill?

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I think you do.

I think you wanna take
him out as much as I do.

We're both
wearing leashes, Huck.

You and me and everyone else
who's ever worked for that man...

He owns us,
just like he owns Liv.

But if we could get
something on him...

- Something big like murdering a guy...
- No.

- Why? - Because no one
takes down command.

- No one's ever tried.
- Stay away from Liv.

Stay away from me.

"Worst lady"!

"First catty bares claws"!

"Mouthy Mellie"...

"First catty"?
That doesn't even rhyme.

What's the second rule
of politics?

I know the damn rules.

I'll give you a hint!

The same rule applies
to gun ownership.

The microphone
is always loaded!

I know the rules.
I took my mic off.

- Blame that stupid congresswoman.
- I'd like to,

but then you had to go
and break rule number one...

Never insult the voters.

It'll blow over.
I will make it right.

You're missing the point.

Josephine Marcus went
from flavor of the month

to legitimate
Presidential candidate.

You did that.
You gave her legitimacy.

You minted her ass!

Even better.
She's inexperienced.

We should help her win
in the primaries

so that we can crush her
in the general.

Ethan?

Get in here!

Madame First Lady.

Would you say we had a problem
with female voters

in this next election?

- Yes, sir. - What if we ran
against a female candidate?

Would that be fun for us?

We'd likely get clobbered, sir.

I will go craft an apology.

Run it by me first.

The prosecution's about to rest.
Now it's our turn.

Your testimony is crucial.
You nail it, we're home free.

- Just remember...
- Supportive, not smug.

- I know. - And make just enough
eye contact with the jury.

Too little,
you'll seem impersonal.

- Too much, you'll seem like
you're begging. - I appreciate it, Shel.

I have the head
of B.N.C. on the phone.

- Tell him I'll call him back.
- He said it's urgent.

Something about a story
that's about to break.

- He says he wants a comment.
- What story?

We met on mixer last week.
It's an app.

People pretend to use it
for networking,

but it's really just
a hookup site.

He called himself
"Mr. Chubbles."

You know, he has a mole
on his... I mean, it's small,

but... the mole, I mean,
not his...

Anyway, I thought
he was harmless.

I didn't even know
he was married,

let alone a Senator, and then
at 2:00 A.M. last night,

I get a text, and it's like...
Whoa! Now I get the name.

She's lying. I've never seen
that girl in my life.

Shelley, you have to
believe me.

Call them up.

Tell them it wasn't me.
Make a statement.

Whatever you have to do.
I did not send that text.

- Did you hear what I said?
- Harrison.

- Give me your phone.
- What?

- You heard him.
- I don't... I left my phone in the car.

Okay.
Me and you, men's room, now.

You drop trou, and we hope to God
there's no mole. There's a mole.

I don't know why I...

I have a lot of stress.

I couldn't sleep.

I have a problem, Shelley.

Oh, Shelley...

Do not touch me.

Not now. Not...

Don't touch me.

Honorable discharge
from the Navy in '94.

From what I can tell,

that was the last good thing
to happen to him.

Palmetto air.

Small airline in Florida.
He was fired six months in.

Two marriages. And a lot of arrests
for drunk and disorderly conduct.

Had a few sales jobs
along the way,

but even those dried up. I'm not
sure how he got by financially.

He's got a sister,

but she doesn't seem to have
any more money than he did.

What about
the funeral arrangements?

Wherever his sister can find
the cheapest place

to bury a pine box.

Detail, halt!

I'm sorry. Can I help you folks?
This is a private service.

Ma'am...

You must be
officer Foster's sister.

Marion, is it?

Mr. President?

I wanted to pay my respects

and tell you
how sorry I am for your loss.

I don't...
Mr. President...

I never met your brother,

but I was in the Navy
at the same time.

He was a good man.

I didn't even think he could be
buried here at Arlington,

but then veterans affairs
called this morning, and...

Was that you?

Did you do this for my brother?

They let me pull a few strings
from time to time.

Perk of the job.

But why?

Pete Foster was
an American hero,

and he deserves
to be buried as such.

Detail, atten-hut!

Half right... face!

♪ Love me, love me, love me

♪ say you do

aim! Fire!

Aim.

Fire.

Aim.
Fire.

♪ Let me fly away

♪ with you

♪ for my love
is like the wind ♪

♪ and wild is the wind

♪ give me more

♪ than one caress

♪ satisfy this hungriness

♪ let the wind

♪ blow through your heart

♪ for wild is the wind

Are you an idiot, or did
you do it to spite me?

What the hell are you
talking about?

This.
The President throws a funeral

for a down-on-his-luck Navy vet,

and I have to find out about it

from the gravedigger's
Instagram account?

Me!
The chief of staff's husband,

who could have been
an asset to you.

I could have produced a segment
on the President's heart

at a time when the only organ
people care about is his penis.

But, no, either you didn't
see the potential,

or... or you didn't see
my potential.

So I ask you again...
Are you an idiot,

or did you do it to spite me?

James, I had no idea
this was happening.

Really? So the President
calls veterans affairs and says,

"Pete Foster.
Let's throw him a funeral,"

- and no one said a word to you?
- No.

Not everything I do
is a scheme.

You may not believe that,
but it's true.

Okay.
I'm sorry I bothered you.

Wait.

Did you say Pete Foster?

- You could have given me a heads-up.
- Not exactly my style.

Or, okay, I don't know,
you could have not killed him.

Calm down, Cyrus.
Pete Foster killed Pete Foster.

Right, of course. Well,
whatever the official story is,

the President heard about it,
because he went...

to the funeral today.

He practically arranged
the damn flowers himself.

Pete Foster had
every intention...

He had the original
flight plan, Cyrus,

and he was gonna use it...

...on Grant.

A loaded gun that I was
not about to let go off.

So taking care of the man?
Necessary.

Giving you a heads-up?
Less so.

This day
could not have gone worse

for the defense.

The defense,
who we should point out,

has Olivia Pope on its team.

How do we think Ms. Pope
is feeling right now, Anne?

First she's accused of
an affair with the President,

then she gets duped

by real mistress
jeannine Locke, and now this.

That's right, Tanner,
and let's not forget,

this is a woman
who used to command

a lot of respect
in this town.

Her name alone was enough
to strike fear

into people's hearts.

And now it's close
to becoming a punchline.

If you're coming to say
that we need to drop the case,

- don't waste your time.
- He lied to us, Liv.

And if he lied to us
about the sexting,

who's to say he's not lying
about killing the girl?

Shelley Meyers
is in the wind, gone.

She's not answering her cell.

She's not at home
or her sister's.

If we jump ship now,
we just look smart.

If you're worried about
the money,

we can all work for free
just for a few months.

We're not broke yet.
We're fine. I have my savings.

- You shouldn't have to use it.
- Quitting is not an option.

Harrison, tomorrow morning,

do whatever you have to do
to stall.

Buy us some time with the judge
until we track Shelley down.

Please. Go. Find her.

- Bad time?
- You shouldn't be here.

Does the name Pete Foster
mean anything to you?

- That's who your father had Huck kill.
- What did I tell you?

He was in possession
of something dangerous,

and not just to your father.

To Fitz, to the White House.

It was a flight plan
of some kind.

I have no idea
what you're talking about,

and for the last time,
I do not care.

Okay. Look. Pete Foster was a pilot.

He flew 86 missions,
but there are only 85

listed individually
on his jacket,

which means that one
of them is missing...

Stop. I have told you
over and over

that I want nothing to do
with this...

What the White House does,
my father... none of it.

So take your files
and your conspiracies

and leave my office.
Now.

Or, okay, I don't know,
you could have not killed him.

Calm down, Cyrus.
Pete Foster killed Pete Foster.

Calm down, Cyrus.

- Pete Foster killed Pete Foster.
- No!

Pete Foster had
every intention...

Pete Foster had
every intention...

...on Grant. A loaded gun that
I was not about to let go off.

So taking care of the man?

He had the original
flight plan, Cyrus,

and he was gonna use it.

He had the original
flight plan, Cyrus.

He had the original
flight plan, Cyrus.

Pete Foster
killed Pete Foster.

Left some unfinished
business for you inside.

Look, we all get a case

of foot-in-mouth disease
from time to time.

Let's call it a joke
that fell flat

and leave it at that.

First lady apologized.
Apology accepted.

I will say this, though.

Don't knock a fried twinkie
till you've tried one.

A star is born. You should be so proud.

I apologized.
What more can I do?

You didn't just create a star.
You created a movement.

A movement? Please.

Her favorables are up
12 points in the last 2 days.

She's been top 10 on
Twitter for the last 48 hours.

And you know what else
is trending?

- Hashtag... "Mellie has a big
fat mouth... " - Leave her alone!

Her apology was gracious.

- Sir, with all due respect...
- Enough!

Take a walk, Cyrus.

Thank you.

We all make mistakes.

You're going to fly out
to Montana right now.

Today!

And you are going to walk
the deserted streets

of seven forks
or horsefly gulch

or apache tears or whatever
the hell the name is

of the hick town
our Calamity Jane calls home,

and you're going to talk
to everyone

from her second grade teacher
to the first boy

who put his hand
under her blouse,

and you are going to come back

with some good
old-fashioned dirt!

That's how Nixon did it
way back when,

and it still works.

Understood?

Good. Now...
get going.

- No.
- No, what?

No, I will not be a pawn
in whatever stalling tactic

you're about to employ.

Not after I spent
the entire morning

at the courthouse
convincing judge Gaynes

that your request to add
six more addiction experts

to the witness list was really
just a way of hiding the fact

that you've lost
Shelley Meyers.

Luckily, she agreed with me.

If you don't produce the wife
by 9:00 AM tomorrow,

we're moving on
to closing arguments.

Actually, I was seeing if you
wanted to have lunch.

- Oh.
- Is that a yes or a no?

I don't know.
You don't know?

I don't know.
Am I hungry or full?

Salad or sandwich?
And don't get me started

on drinks and desserts...
I'd be lost.

Okay. I get that you're...
miffed.

Miffed? Nah. I'm done
waiting for a decision.

I'll make it easy for you.

You won't give me
a straight answer? In or out?

I'll give you one.
I'm out. I'm done.

Any luck
finding Shelley Meyers?

We tracked credit cards, ATMs

I hacked into her e-mail.
Nothing.

Where would you go
if you had lots of money

and wanted to go away
somewhere alone?

Easy. The fanciest hotel
I could find.

We looked at every hotel
in the area.

Shelley's smart. With the media
attention she's getting,

she'd know to use an alias.
So what are we thinking?

A movie character?
Someone from a novel?

What do we know
about this woman?

Besides the fact that
her husband's circumcised.

Elizabeth Cady Stanton.

Her daughter's writing
a history report about her.

And just checked
into the grand district.

There was a paralegal
I worked with once,

a young guy,

fresh out of college,

who had
the most amazing thighs.

They said he played soccer.

I'm assuming it was from that.

Anyway...

We were sitting
in the lunchroom one day,

and his shoe
brushed up against mine

under the table.

I should have pulled
my foot away, but I didn't.

I kept it there,
gently touching his,

even though I was married
and I knew it was wrong.

The guilt I felt that day.

Touching his shoe.

- You would have thought we screwed
in the supply closet. - Miss Meyers...

I'm done forgiving him.

The sacrifices I have
made for that man.

The marriage I protected
because...

I thought it actually
meant something.

And for what?
So he could

shove a camera down his pants.

I'm a partner at a law firm.

And he has made me look like...

The weakest, most backwards
anti-feminist

this world has ever known.

And that is not the poster child
I am supposed to be.

I am supposed to be...
a role model,

a woman that my daughter
can look up to,

someone...

she can admire.

Oh...

Ah, I should have screwed
that kid,

him and his beautiful thighs.

I should have just
brought him home

and banged him in our bed!

I can recommend
a divorce lawyer, Ms. Meyers.

That's a punishment
that meets the crime.

But sending your husband
to prison...

which is what's going to happen
if you don't testify tomorrow...

it's not right.

It's not right,
and you know it.

So I'm supposed to do what,

just get up
on the witness stand

and pretend that I'm not hurt?

Pretend that I don't
find him despicable?

Because I'm not that good
an actor, Ms. Pope.

They will know I am lying.

What if you didn't have to lie?

The coroner has testified
that Ms. Oaks' time of death

was between 8:00 and 10:00 PM

Where were you at that time?

At home with my husband.

The defendant was with you
that entire window of time?

The whole evening,
until we went to bed at 11:00.

So could your husband
have possibly been

at Ms. Oaks' apartment to murder her?
He could not.

Your witness.

Mrs. Meyers, you don't want

your husband to go to jail,
do you?

No.
I'm sorry. "No," what?

No, I don't want him
to go to jail.

No, I imagine not.

And you'd like to help him
avoid that. Isn't that right?

Yes. And so you'd say
pretty much anything

to get him acquitted, correct?
Objection, your honor.

Withdrawn.

As you know, Mrs. Meyers,
in US law

we have something called
marital privilege,

whereby an individual can't be
compelled to testify

against their spouse.

It can make
my prosecutor's job harder,

but I fully support
that principle.

Because I look at it
this way...

Why in the world would a jury

believe a wife's testimony
anyway

when it's clearly going to be
prejudiced

in her husband's favor?
Don't you agree?

Your honor...
Enough, Mr. Rosen.

The jury will disregard.

Do you love your husband,
Mrs. Meyers?

No.

I'm sorry?

You've heard the disgusting
things he's been doing.

He's a pig.
He makes me sick.

- What's she doing?
- Telling the truth.

So... you don't love
your husband?

My husband has disgraced
his office

and dishonored our marriage.

He's a pervert and a
creep, and I hate him.

I would love to see him
go to jail

for the rest of his life,
but you don't go to jail

for being a cheating,
lying bastard.

You go to jail
for being a murderer,

which he's not.

He didn't kill that girl.

Is that who you killed?

Looks like his wrists
are slashed.

Is that to make it look
like a suicide?

I'm assuming there's
a special way of doing that,

ways of angling the blade

so the cops can't tell
it was staged.

It's not polite
to sneak up on people.

You need someone
to talk to, Huck.

You wouldn't go to those
meetings if you didn't.

With me, you don't have
to call it "whiskey."

Okay? You can call it
what it is.

Don't do this alone, Huck.

- No.
- I need to talk to you.

- There's nothing to talk about.
- Yeah, there is.

...Grant.

A loaded gun that I was
not about to let go off. So...

What does any of this mean?

There were numbers on his body.

Pete Foster's body.
Tattooed.

They're a Navy flight plan.

For a secret mission
called operation remington.

It was a rescue,
during the first Gulf war,

- on iranian soil.
- That's why it's classified.

I was on that mission.
There were five of us

on the ground and one plane
flying air support.

And the pilot on that plane
was Pete Foster.

No. That pilot
was the President.

So why does this guy go
get a tattoo

saying he was the pilot?

Maybe for the same reason
your father wanted him dead.

Sir, I'm sorry...

Cowboy boots? Are those...

Yes, sir.
I figured it was okay.

After all, we are Republicans.

This isn't the Bush
White House, Ethan.

We don't wear cowboy boots.
Understood, but listen...

- We wear shoes, real shoes.
- Sir...

Thinking man's shoes.
I failed you, sir.

What are you... I didn't
do so well in Montana...

Except for the boots,
or so I thought.

- Ethan...
- The only thing I got

was that at 15,
Josephine Marcus

walked into a maternity ward
pregnant.

But when she walked out,
there was no baby

and no birth certificate, so...

No proof.

You didn't fail me, Ethan.

- No?
- Not at all.

How long before a verdict?

Could be ten minutes,
could be ten hours.

I'll go sniff around,
see what I can find out.

You all right?

I didn't realize how much
she hated me until just now.

She hates me, Olivia.

The way she looked at me
in there...

My wife of 20 years
hates my guts.

I did this to her.

I dragged her into my muck.

She'll get through this,
Senator.

She's a strong woman.

And maybe in time,
she'll forgive you... again.

But she won't forgive herself.

For what?

Lying for me.

I didn't kill that woman,
Ms. Pope.

But there's nobody
who can prove that.

Certainly not Shelley.
She was out shopping that night.

She came home late.
She lied to give me an alibi.

She's a lawyer, Olivia.
She believes in the law.

She's gonna carry this
with her forever.

Here we go. Jury's back in.

The defendant and counsel
will please rise.

The clerk will now read
and record the verdict.

In case number 438-076,

the district of Columbia
versus Richard Alan Meyers,

we the jury find the defendant

for the charge
of second-degree murder

not guilty.

(Judge
Gaynes) District of Columbia

would like to thank the jurors
for their service.

Mr. Meyers, you have no further
business with this court.

You are free to go,
and court is adjourned.

You weren't his alibi.

Excuse me?

He was yours. You followed him
over to Desiree's place,

waited until he left,
and killed her.

You thought you could fix it.

You thought there was just one.

Well...

It's like you said, Olivia.

We all deserve a second chance.

No comment.

Josephine Marcus... she's not
going to be a problem.

Drugs?

Abandoned baby.

Boy, do I love a slutty teen.

We should have something
to leak in a day or two.

Anything else?

No, sir.

Actually... yes.

It's about the funeral
you went to.

What about it?

This is an election year,
sir, and I'd hate to see

your conscience get
in the way of your goal.

Who told you?
Who is not important.

What's important is
keeping you in the White House.

And if you keep looking
backwards,

dredging things up
that ought to stay buried,

well, then people
are going to notice.

And they'll pick up shovels
and start digging themselves,

and we know what they'll find
at the bottom

of that cracker Jack box.

Don't we?

Do you think...

We can leave the past
in the past, sir?

Good.

Then that's all we'll say
on this matter.

Where were you?

You have to stop
asking questions.

Look, I am worried about you.

You have to stop
asking questions!

You're not worried about me.

You're interested. You wanna
know what it feels like

to do the things that I do.
I see you.

I see that look in your eye
every time you ask me

one of your questions
about where I was

and what I've been doing.
You're interested.

And maybe that's because
you're able to see me, too...

How my mouth has been dry
for months,

how I've been squirming
and vibrating,

and it wouldn't stop
until the other night

when everything just stopped,

and I wasn't thirsty anymore.

All these questions
you're asking...

They have answers,

but you don't wanna know them.

So stop being interested.

And stop asking questions.

Stop.

Stop while you still can.

Now cleared of the murder

of 24-year-old
dental hygienist Desiree Oaks,

Senator Meyers says
he's looking forward

to putting his campaign in gear

and working on his marriage,
in that order...

Yeah?

- Is that a picture of your...
- Yep.

It's an addiction, David.
I couldn't help myself.

I told you I don't wanna
play games. I'm out.

I don't wanna play games
either.

So?

So I'm...

Outside your door,
and I'd like to come in.

You okay?

Yeah, sure. I'm just...

I don't know what I am.

Well, you're the daughter
of the man

that runs
the top secret organization

that made your friend
kill a man for some reason

having to do with your
ex-boyfriend, the President.

Look, uh...

Hey, hey.

Come on. Don't cry.

I'm not crying.

I'm trying not to scream.

I'm scared.

Okay.

Put your head right here.

Come on. Do it.

Do it.

There.

You're not alone in this.

I'm not going anywhere.

I'm not going anywhere.

Don't answer it.

Um...

It could be important.

Mr. President.

Why so formal?

What can I do for you?

Do for me?

Does everything have to be
transactional in this town?

Even with us?

What happened? Rough day?

You could say that.
How are you?

I'm fine. You're, uh...
Are you okay?

I don't know how to answer that.

I honestly don't.

You sound...

More wine?

- You have company.
- Yes.

Explains the formality.

- Sorry, it's just...
- You should go.

It's okay.
You have company.

We can talk.

That would be rude.

Good-bye, Olivia.

We're here, sir.

What the hell is this?

This is a reunion...

One that is long overdue.