A/N: Honestly have no idea where this came from other than me listening to my Olitz playlist to finish the update for Metanoia. My mind demanded I go here instead.

Metanoia will hopefully be up soon so long as my mind stays focused.

Enjoy some more AU Olitz since that's the only time they're allowed to be happy.

This is far different than anything I've written for these two, so I hope you enjoy.

Yes, there will be more.

Also, it's 1:12am, there will be mistakes my tired eyes didn't catch, so I apologise and I'll try to fix them in the morning.

Lyrics belong to the Lumineers.

"When are you gonna run away with me, Olivia Pope?" Fitzgerald Grant asked for the thousandth time in the span of twenty minutes. He stood, arms slung over the white picket fence, in front of Olivia's home.

The summer sun beamed down on his back, boring through his white cotton t-shirt. Sweat slickened his skin and he threw her a wolfish grin. He knew he was playing with fire by being here, on Elijah Pope's property, eyes glued on Eli's most prized possession with nothing but impure thoughts running through his head.

"Run away with me," he beckoned once more.

Olivia rolled her eyes, cheeks hot as she stepped down off her porch, white Keds moving swiftly down the walkway.

She was a vision; truly a sight for sore eyes dressed in a cotton white dress that hits just above her knees. Her deep brown skin glistens against the midday sun and her curly hair has been slicked back and pinned to the top of her head in a large bun.

Oh, how Fitz wished he could unpin it and watch as the curls fell, growing in the summer heat. He loved her hair in whatever way she chose to wear it, but seeing it in its natural state was such a rare occurrence and it did something to him.

"Do you have a death wish, Fitzgerald, or are you feeling extra lucky today?" Olivia questioned, tilting her head as she meets him at the fence. She placed her delicate hands on his on top of his arms and leaned in to give him a quick chaste kiss on the lips.

Fitz grinned against her mouth and pouts when she pulls away.

"Shouldn't you be heading back across town? My dad will be home any moment and I'd rather not have to step in between you and a double barrel shotgun."

He chuckled, but Fitz knows she wasn't joking.

Mecklenburg's first Black sheriff, Eli Pope was not exactly a magnanimous man when it came to his only child, his baby girl. And at 20 years old, Olivia Pope was the apple of her father's eye. Already a college graduate and gearing up for Harvard Law in the fall, Eli often talked about how she couldn't afford any distractions on her path to greatness.

Twenty-eight-year-old Fitzgerald Grant, the only son of the town patriarch, was a distraction.

The two had been secretly dating for the last six months and Eli made it no secret his disdain for the Grant clan. Entitled, self-righteous, and racist all had been adjectives used by Olivia's father to describe her boyfriend's family. Most of the descriptors fit his family to a T, but Fitz had been the anomaly. Too bad Eli Pope didn't see it that way.

"You think your dad would actually shoot me?" Fitz wondered with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Without a doubt." Olivia didn't hesitate in her reply. Her father could be a frightening man.

Fitz shuddered. "See, this is exactly why I say we should run away. Just you and me. Leave Virginia. Head out to California. We could do it. How many times have you told me you don't want to start Harvard in the fall?"

"Enough to know that I could say it a trillion and it still wouldn't matter. Besides, it's not that I don't want to go to school; I just don't want to go now. I'm twenty, I graduated summa cum laude in three years from Princeton. Don't I deserve a break?" Her voice was thick with frustration and Fitz wiggled out of her hold. He brought a hand up to cup her jaw and leant over the fence to kiss her forehead.

Olivia Pope was the hardest working woman - no, person - he knew. For years, he'd been hearing all about the one girl wrecking crew from his father, who'd heard it through the Chase City grapevine. The daughter of a now retired four-star army general, Olivia's Pope's accomplishments were always the talk of the town (National and World swimming champion by the age of 18; accepted by seven of eight Ivy Leagues (she hadn't applied to the University of Pennsylvania); Princeton Honorific Fellowship recipient; published author. At twenty, Olivia had accomplished things most twice her age had only dreamed. But she was wearing out - down. It was obvious in the way her shoulders sunk at the simple mention of Harvard.

"So, run with me." he insisted. She didn't think he was serious. Ha! If she were to say yes, they'd be gone in minutes.

Olivia laughed and rested her forehead against his chin, sighing. "You think General Pope is ever letting me out of his sight?"

"If you run away, he won't have a choice." Fitz mumbled, pressing a kiss to her forehead

"You think he won't use every connection he has all the way up to the president to find me?"

"Your father is just a little bit terrifying."

"I know."

The air around them stilled and just for a minute they stood there, breathing together. His chest rose, hers fell.

"You want a glass of tea?" Olivia broke the comfortable silence first.

"Do we have time? I thought you said your dad was on his way home any minute now?" Fitz asked with a crinkle of his brows.

"I lied. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I don't. He'll be out all night. He's got a poker game with the Beenes. I'll probably be alone until about 10pm, maybe 11pm."

Fitz checked his watch; it was 7pm on the dot. "So, we've got time?"

"We've got time."

/

Thank God for time, too, because Olivia couldn't stop giggling as Fitz struggled with the buttons that held the top of her dress snug against her. His thick fingers kept slipping on the dainty buttons and Olivia couldn't hold in her laughter.

They were fooling around in her bedroom; the door was cracked just the slightest so they could hear if anyone decided to join them. Olivia's dressed was hiked up to her thighs, her lips swollen from endless kisses. Fitz's curls stuck out every which way and his face was flushed bright red.

"If you would just stop laughing and help me…" he grumbled between kisses.

She continued to giggle, yanking on his curls.

"I told you we could do it with my dress on since you can't seem to work a couple of buttons…"

"If you would just turn around so I could see what I was working with, Olivia..."

The frustration runs thick in his voice and Olivia grinned against his mouth. He had a habit of pulling her out of her head and putting her in the moment like no other. For years, she'd tip toed around Fitz and his family at her father's behest, but that April day in the general store when he'd thrown her a shy smile, it'd been kismet. Since then, he'd proven time and time again that he was one of the few people who understood her.

Even if they were currently lost in translation.

"Fitzgerald, just lift up my dress."

"Olivia," he huffed. "I want the first time we make love to not be over your dress, preferably. I want it to be perfect. I want to see every inch of you. Lay you out beneath me, bare and unblemished by fabric…."

A shiver ran down her spine at his words, the timber of his voice, the feel of his strong hands resting on her back. If only he knew just how long she'd imagined his exact words. In turn, Olivia wanted to ride him until her thighs screamed, her legs trembled, and he sang her name.

"I'm not a virgin, Fitz. I'm a horny future law student on a time limit, stop being so stubborn." she hissed, although his words had made their mark. Her kiss softened; her fingers slowing before slipping from his hair all together.

Breaking away from his mouth, Olivia gave him a gentle smile before she turned her back to him. She tapped her shoulder to grab his attention and pointed at the buttons. Her mind went hazy with want as he began to undo each one, his fingers brushing against her bare flesh.

Once the last button, his hands drifted up her sides, to her shoulders, hooking underneath the thin straps slung over her shoulders. He moved to push the straps down, but Olivia stopped him. Slowly she climbed to her feet. Pivoting in place, she let the dress fall to the floor. Heat rose in her cheeks as she stood before him bare except for her underwear.

The look on Fitz's face sent shockwaves of wanton lust and slight terror through her tiny body. His gaze was unwavering. His normally electric blue eyes were clouded with lust and something else Olivia couldn't quite pinpoint.

Slowly he rose to his feet, looming over her. Without thinking, Olivia stepped back, his presence suddenly overwhelming. She moved to fold her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious, but Fitz stopped her. He caught a wrist in each of his hands and drew her in close until her bare breasts were smashed against the hard planes of his taut chest, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his waist. He trailed one hand up her back, and let the other fall to her hip.

"Never hide yourself from me. You look amazing…"

"Fitz…"

"Take your hair down for me?"

Never had she heard such a simple, yet complex request. On the surface, it was just hair, but her hair meant so much more. It'd been drilled into her at an early age by both her parents that the curls that grew naturally from her head weren't entirely acceptable to professional society. She'd learned to keep the straight, pulled back, tucked away. The only reason they were wrapped in a bun and resting atop her head today is because she'd felt it too hot to run her hair dryer.

"I-I…"

"Let me?" he whispered, carefully finding the band that held her hair in place. Gently he unraveled it. Olivia took note of the great care with which he moved, the gesture sending a flood of warmth and comfort spreading throughout her body.

As her curls hit her shoulders she fought to look up at him, uncertain of whether she wanted to see what was in his eyes. Would it be ignorant fascination? Fanciful amusement? As if sensing her nervousness, Fitz stuck a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face upwards and her eyes slipped shut.

"Look at me…"

She sighed.

"Liv…"

Their eyes met and Olivia and flinched. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart threatened to thud straight out of her chest. The lust was still present in his eyes, but the other thing, the thing she couldn't quite pinpoint moments ago was now clear as day; love.

He loved her.

And while they'd never said it aloud, she felt the same.

"Fi-"

His lips were on hers in an instant, swallowing his name as it left her tongue. She returned his fervor with the same passion, each trying to devour the other. There was nothing tentative in his touch as they consumed one another. Olivia's hands moved to hold his head in place, Fitz's pulled her closer as he pivoted them towards her bed. They fell back against the plush linen and her legs parted to grant him access to her core. He nipped at her mouth, tracing her lips with his tongue. Olivia moaned into his kiss wondering why she'd put this moment off for so long. They'd followed around in his car, but had never moved past touching. Now...now she needed more. She needed to feel him, see him, touch him as he had her.

"Fitz…" she mewled. "Make love to me…"

At her request, his kiss deepened, and his arms slithered underneath her lithe body, pushing her further back into the bed. Satisfied with her position, he leant back just enough to pull the white polo over his head. Seconds later he was on top of her again, kissing, nipping, and biting at her flesh. He whispered epithets of want and need against her skin. Olivia felt dizzy, as if she was being pulled apart and put back together with each caress, each kiss; irrevocably changed forever. What she'd originally labeled a summer fling, a way to blow off steam before starting law school, was proving to be more. Much more.

"I need you." she moaned as his teeth ran across nipple and her hands seized the back of his head. "Please…"

But her request would go unfulfilled, her words unanswered. So caught up in one another, neither had heard the front door open or close, nor the approaching footsteps until it was too late.

"Olivia, are you-" Eli Pope called out and seconds later Olivia's bedroom door banged open.

As soon as she heard the words along with the door knocking against the wall, she froze. Her fingers slipped from Fitz's curls and she pushed at his shoulders, panicked.

"Dad!"

"Shit!" Fitz pulled back and Olivia immediately scrambled to find something to cover herself with. She opted for the nearest thing in sight, a pillow, and held it to her chest until she could reach her dress.

Fitz dove for his shirt and Olivia's eyes caught those of her father's. The look on Eli Pope's face said it all. She knew that look, recognized it from years of watching her father hunt.

"Dad, don't!" but Eli had already stormed away.

"Fitz, run." Olivia pleaded as she dropped the pillow and stepped into her dress. Her entire body shook as she pulled it up, having no time to bother with any of the buttons. She crossed the room to her bedroom window, pulling it open as fast as she could. The familiar sound of a shotgun being cocked split the air and she looked at Fitz, fear all over her face.

"Go, out the window. Please. Run."

"He's going to shoot me? He's really going to fucking shoot me?" The panic was etched into his voice.

"I don't know, but please just go!"

Fitz nodded and made his way over to the window. He climbed onto the sill and glanced down at the ground. Thankfully Fitz didn't have more than nine or so feet until ground; Olivia's room was on the first floor.

"Go!" she urged, uncertain of what her father was doing or why it was taking so long for him to make his way back to her bedroom.

"Come with me, Liv. I don't want you here while he's waving a gun."

"He won't hurt me. Now please, go!"

With reluctance written all over his face, Fitz nodded. He jumped and Olivia stuck her head out the window to insure his landing. Once he popped back up, slightly wobbling, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief and watched as he took off running.

Her relief was short lived, however, as she heard her father's footsteps. Eli crossed the room, shoving her out of the way and taking aim through the open window.

"Dad, NO!" Olivia's body moved of its own volition, but it wasn't quite quick enough for the former general. Eli caught her wrist with one of his hands before she could knock the gun from his hand. Luckily enough, she managed to draw his attention, his ire.

Eli slunk back into her room, lowering the gun.

"Fix. Your. Clothes." his voice was sharp, steady, and dangerous.

She didn't think her father would hurt her, but the look on Eli's face rooted her in place. Never had she seen her father so eerily calm, yet seething with rage.

Instead of obliging, Olivia walked over to her dresser and grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it over head.

"I'm not a little girl any more, Dad. What Fitz and I do is none of your-"

"Do you always have to be so common." the words rolled off his tongue laced with malice. "Giving yourself to that, that...boy - that man child of an even more pathetic father - like a dime a dozen call girl?"

A wave of hurt rocketed over Olivia at her father's words. Tears pooled behind her eyes. "You don't know Fitz, he's not-"

"I've known men like Fitzgerald Grant III all of my life. Silver spoon children who wouldn't know the ways of the world if they bit them on the ass. Privileged white boys who only know how to take. Especially from naive little girls too stupid to know better. I raised you better than this!"

"That's not him!"

"It is!" Eli bellowed, eyes full of fire. "And like your mother, you're willing to turn your back on your family to give them anything they want. Apparently having the entire world at their feet is not enough!"

At the mention of her mother, Olivia visibly recoiled. Maya Pope had walked out of Eli Pope's house eight years ago, leaving behind her wedding ring, and signed divorce papers. Neither Olivia nor Eli had any inclination that Maya was unhappy; she'd never acted as such. The wedding ring and divorce papers had said it all, though. A year later she'd reappeared, remarried to Dominic, a white British man, demanding primary custody of Olivia. She lost her custody bid and within the year, Olivia was in Switzerland for boarding school. In the last eight years, Olivia could almost count on one hand how many times she'd seen her mother, most of those times coming after her 18th birthday and without Eli's knowing or permission.

"Mom didn't turn her back on me; she turned her back on you because you're a controlling, overbearing, and miserable old man who wants -"

The slap was swift - hard - leaving a stunned Olivia, hand touching her tender cheek, in its wake. Eli Pope had never raised a hand to his daughter before; there was a first time for everything. Eyes deadlocked, the two stared at each other. Olivia watched as her father's gaze wavered ever so slightly.

The hard steel of his honey brown eyes softened. "Livvie, I'm - I didn't mean…."

But as Eli Pope's gaze relented, Olivia's hardened. The stinging in her cheek roared and she stiffened her upper lip, squared her shoulders. "Bye, Dad." she hissed, grabbing her shoes off her bedroom floor and slipping them on.

Before she had a chance to rethink what she was about to do, Olivia broke into a sprint. She tore through her house, snatching her purse off the coat rack in the hall, and ran to the front door.

"Olivia! Olivia, where are you going?" Eli yelled from behind her.

Ignoring her father and the strange pleading tone to his voice, Olivia shoved the aluminum screen door open and ran out into the night.

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out
'Cause if we don't leave this town
We might never make it out