Fitz hurried to tidy up the floor of the children's playroom, tossing stuffed animals into bins and Teddy's trucks into the overflowing closet. He heard the echo of her heels on the hardwood, silently praying that Karen's room was clean as requested.

"Fitz," annoyance was evident in her voice and every hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the clack of her heels drew closer. He considered trying to wedge himself into the closet, wanting nothing more than to avoid the hormone driven argument that was sure to ensue. Then he chuckled to himself, running his fingers through his brown curls as he considered the prospect of hiding from his very pregnant wife.

"In here Sweetie," he called in a voice that sounded off, even to him. The pounding of his heart in his ears echoed that of her heels as she approached the door.

"This place is a mess." She threw her arms in the air, exasperated, "Toys all over the floor, laundry in the washing machine, what do you do all day while I'm at work?"

Fitz closed his eyes, silently counting to ten, trying to remember that the person screaming at him was Olivia, his pregnant wife, and not Cyrus or one of the foes he faced as President of the United States. When he again opened his eyes he was met with flaring nostrils, pursed lips, and a tapping Jimmy Choo. Five more weeks he reasoned inaudibly. But who was he kidding, suffering through hot flashes and screaming fits and midnight runs to fetch whatever food Olivia was craving at the moment, was wearing on him. In his eight years as President he had never faced off against someone as hardheaded and difficult as Olivia when she was pregnant.

He allowed his eyes to survey her form, wondering if it would be taking his life in his hands to suggest she choose shoes more appropriate for a woman in her stage of gravidity. Shaking off the notion he looked at her impeccable outfit, the claret Seraphine dress hugging her round belly and accentuating her plump breasts.

"I love you in red." He moved closer to her hoping that pleasantries might distract her from her tirade over dust bunnies and damp laundry.

"Don't…just don't," clearly it wasn't going to be that easy, "When I left for work this morning I asked Karen to clean her room and you were supposed to help Teddy clean the playroom after you picked him up from school."

"Olivia, you are not the only person around here who works." He looked just as shocked as she did at his words, but still he persisted, "I picked up Teddy then we rushed to Karen's school to watch her game, which she won by the way. After the game I took Teddy to soccer practice then I had to pick up some papers from a client before we rushed back here to start dinner so that you could have something to eat when you got home. We were only home for ten minutes before you came in on this harangue."

Olivia opened her mouth to respond then closed it again. She shifted from one foot to the other, wondering if she would even be able to remove her shoes with how swollen her feet felt.

"I'm going to go finish up dinner," he brushed past her on his way out of the room, "I'll call the cleaning service and have them come three times a week until the baby comes and I'll try to get in touch with Nanny Jen again. She can help with Teddy then I'll have more time to take care of the things you need me to do around here."

He didn't turn in her direction, walking briskly toward the kitchen where Karen sat at the kitchen table helping her younger brother with his homework. Olivia saw the flush creeping along the back of his neck, pinking his ears, a sure sign he was angry. She again began to speak but thought better of it, climbing the stairs to the master bedroom instead.

She pulled her dress over her head, replacing it with Fitz's well broken in Navy sweatshirt. Her eyes closed as his scent enveloped her, causing a stir low in her belly. Searching for her favorite soft yoga pants and well-worn slippers, she absently rubbed her firm belly. Pregnancy had made her moody and insecure, a little frightened and easily annoyed. It was nothing like she'd imagined. As expected Fitz was doting, fulfilling every crazy request she'd dreamed up, but the uncertainty and lack of control over essentially everything to do with being pregnant had deeply affected her. She looked down at her puffy feet squeezed into pink fuzzy slippers, five weeks, she thought.

Teddy finished his last math problem as Olivia walked into the kitchen and he rushed to return his books to his backpack and vacate the area, well aware that his stepmother was highly emotional as of late. He gave Olivia a large berth as he rushed to his bedroom, Fitz calling after him that dinner would be in fifteen minutes. Karen stood to follow her brother's lead only to be stopped dead in her tracks.

"Did you get your calculus test back today?" Olivia asked, causing Karen to visibly flinch.

Karen glanced at Fitz who stood at the kitchen island chopping tomatoes for the salad then swallowed hard, "Yes."

"And I'm assuming you didn't get an A?" Olivia pressed.

"Not exactly," Karen picked at the deep red polish on her fingers.

"Well?"

"I got an 83," Karen mumbled, still not meeting Olivia's eye.

"A B minus? You told me you studied," Olivia was nearly yelling, "No going out this weekend," she went on, "And one more grade like this and you're off the hockey team."

Karen's eyes snapped to her stepmother's, "No, you can't make me quit hockey!"

"If you're not going to take your studies seriously…."

"But…."

"No one is quitting hockey," Fitz interjected sternly, "All we can ask is for you to do your best, Karen, and if an 83 is the best you could do then so be it. Now go get your brother to set the table for dinner."

Fitz gave Karen a weak smile which she returned in much the same manner before nearly running from the kitchen and any further inquisition.

"You let her off easy, she's never going to take school seriously if you keep letting her skate by," Olivia's brown eyes fixed on Fitz. At first he didn't acknowledge the comment, determined not to engage in another argument but Olivia continued, "What hope does our son or daughter have if you let Karen get away with doing everything half-assed?"

Fitz trained his eyes on her for the first time since he'd walked from the playroom, "Look, I know you were perfect, straight A student, every activity, student council president, and overall queen of everything," his voice was the icy calm she had only heard when he was in office and discussing either Mellie, Jake, or her father, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Fitz…."

"The kid is trying as hard as she can in light of the circumstances," he went on as though he hadn't heard her, "She lost her brother four years ago, her mother ran off with her Uncle, she was pulled from her friends in DC and California to move here to Vermont, and she's in one of the most competitive private schools in the country," now he was nearly yelling, his anger getting the better of him, "So leave her alone. If you want to take your anger out on someone yell at me, but leave my kids alone."

Olivia took two slight steps backwards, retreating from his words. She felt tears sting her eyes and bit her lower lip in an attempt to maintain her composure.

"Dinner smells great, Dad," Teddy called rushing to the table, Karen following close behind.

"Thanks Buddy" Fitz smiled and patted his son's mop of brown curls after placing a large serving dish in the middle of the table.

"Looks amazing," agreed Karen spooning a sizable serving of rice onto her plate.

Fitz and Olivia didn't speak to one another through dinner and largely avoided one another for the remainder of the evening. Olivia made several phone calls while Fitz sat in his comfortable leather chair reading a biography of Thomas Jefferson.

"Are you coming to bed?" she wondered from the doorway of his study.

"In a little bit," he replied not looking up from his book. Olivia sensed his irritation and dejectedly walked to their bedroom, climbing under the cool, Egyptian cotton sheets alone. Thirty minutes later she heard the door latch softly but didn't turn to see Fitz enter, only assured of his presence by the dip in the mattress when he settled in seemingly miles away on the other side of the king-size bed. She heard a loud sigh from his side of the bed as she waited for him to bid her sweet dreams, a wave of nausea overtaking her when it was clear no such declaration was forthcoming.

"Fitz?" she whispered, grunting slightly as she turned to face him, his broad, bare back exposed above the white down comforter. There was no answer and she tentatively reached her palm to touch his shoulder, every muscle in his back tensing with the contact.

"Go to sleep Olivia," he sounded angry and hurt, "Whatever you want to yell at me for not doing or argue about can wait until tomorrow I'm sure."

"But I didn't…." her voice trailed off and she found herself biting her lip again. She passed several more minutes staring at the smooth movement of his back muscles as he breathed evenly in the early stages of sleep. Her palm rested over what, according to her best guess, was their baby's back along the left side of her belly and suddenly she felt the emotional distance between her and Fitz all the more acutely.

"I'm sorry," she scooted closer to him until the front of her belly touched his back and she was close enough to place kisses along the back of his neck. When he didn't respond she allowed her hand to venture below the comforter, devilishly happy he slept naked even when he was angry.

"Liv…" his voice was heavy with a mix of sleep, aggravation, and lust. Her nipples hardened at the feel of his partially erect cock in her hand, her breathing increasing as did her pulse when she slowly stroked him.

She slid beneath the covers as gracefully as possible for a woman who looked as though she would pop any day. He had turned onto his back, his impressive length, now fully hard, rose like a mast before her. She paused briefly, licking her lips, enjoying the effect she had on him.

Fitz's abs grew taut when Olivia's delicate fingers wrapped around his hardened length. He drifted between consciousness and much needed sleep, finally reaching a fully awake state when her sweltering mouth closed around him and her cheeks hollowed. He was only that much more aroused when he gingerly lifted the blanket to see Olivia, eyes closed as she worked her mouth along his length, large, firm breasts begging to be touched, belly propped conveniently on his leg. Heat coursed through him, the echo of his pounding heart loud in his ears, every inch of his skin intensely aware of her contact. Her small, smooth palm rested on the inside of his thigh, her nails sinking lightly into the sensitive flesh each time she took him deeper into her mouth.

Olivia concentrated on Fitz's pleasure, eyes closed, her silent apology for her earlier hormone fueled irritation. She could feel him watching her and immediately felt her body temperature rise and her skin flush in response. When she finally opened her eyes she saw his gaze fixed upon her lips, his own lips slightly parted, breathing rough, hands gripping the sheets beneath them. She pulled back, a shy smile teasing the edge of her mouth.

"Livvie, what are you doing?" he asked in a husky voice, one hand reaching to touch the curls that fell in front of her shoulders.

She awkwardly maneuvered herself to straddle his hips before she answered, "Apologizing."

Fitz moved his other hand to join the first in her curls then allowed both to skim along the goose-pimpled flesh of her upper arms, along the curve of her clavicles, the side of her breasts, and over the taught skin of her abdomen.

"What did you have in mind?" a lopsided grin accompanied his smooth baritone and his right hand moved to rest behind his head.

Olivia unconsciously nibbled on her lower lip at the sight of his deliciously flexing bicep, "Well…I was thinking we could put these crazy hormones to good use," she whispered causing his cock to twitch against her. His left hand freely roamed her bare skin, his eyes never leaving hers. Slowing on the swell of her breasts, fingers teasing the sensitive areola, feeling the immediate response of her body to his touch as her mouth fell open and her nipples growing stiff against the calloused palm of his hand.

His large hands moved to her hips lifting her as she gripped his cock to guide it into her moist center. He felt her shudder as she slid fully down upon him, shifting his hips to guarantee that he would hit the spot that held the key to her celestial bliss. Once, twice, three times she slid slowly along his shaft, each time gasping when he fully disappeared into her.

"Liv…." Her pace was like protracted torture, he could feel her heat and how wet she was for him but he needed the friction of their shared movements.

She braced a hand on his chest, feeling his nipple peak beneath her palm, she picked up the pace slightly, her right hand sliding between them to circle her bundle of nerves. Fitz watched, entranced, this beautiful, crazy, soft woman touching herself for him, feeling every spasm against his cock pulling him closer to the edge. Her nails left deep depressions in his flesh as she rode him to the height of her pleasure.

"Fitz…" she whimpered, face contorted in an expression of unreserved pleasure, quivering beneath his hands.

He managed a groan of pleasure mixed with pain and power before she opened her chestnut eyes to meet his, skin damp with exertion, struggling to catch her breath.

"Forgive me?" she flirted breathlessly above him, her nails lagging along his equally heaving chest.

"Not yet," the look of shock that registered on her features was unmistakable as was Fitz's smirk, "On your knees Mrs. Grant."

"Fitz….I'm tired…." She protested all the while shifting herself onto her knees facing the headboard.

"If you really want to be forgiven," he explained, walking to his tall dresser, removing two Brioni ties and returning to the bed, "then you'll be a good girl."

He ran the silk along her upper back and down her arms before placing her hand on the headboard and knotting the tie firmly in place then repeating the procedure with the other tie on the opposite wrist.

"Fitz…." Her protest was now more of a whine and she bit her lip in anticipation.

Positioning himself behind her, Fitz traced lingering kisses along her spine, nibbling her backside and the backs of her thighs before turning his attention to her dripping wet center.

"Oh God, please," she moaned, pulling against her silk bonds.

The sensation of his nose dragging through her folds followed by his warm capable tongue were almost enough to make her come on the spot. She tensed against the ties at her wrists, feeling them tighten with each movement, only adding to the intensity of sensations clogging her clouded mind. Then his hands were on the rounded cheeks of her backside and she wanted him, needed more of him against her, touching, tasting, feeling.

"Please…." She begged again, whimpering when his mouth left her heat and he bent above her. His lips traveled back up her spine, pausing at the back of her neck to suck lightly then moving on to her left ear where his breath sent a pulse of heat directly to her core. She waited for him to speak but for what seemed like ages he simply moved his warm hands over her most sensitive places, his breath a controlled lash against her skin.

Finally, sensing she couldn't take much more, he murmured, "Don't fight it Livvie."

She gasped from the combination of his words and his throbbing cock sliding into her, knuckles white on the headboard, doing everything she could to refrain from screaming his name and climaxing before he even got started. He gripped her neck and jaw, his first finger curling between her parted lips, as the fingers of his other hand dug into the arch of her hip.

"So fucking hot," he panted behind her, fingers tightening on her jaw, "I want to do this all night."

She sucked the finger that lay between her lips, each lap of her tongue and hollow of her cheeks causing his pace to increase until the headboard was banging a steady rhythm against the newly painted wall. She abandoned all effort to maintain her composure, the volume of her sweet keening increasing with each solid stoke into her. He pushed his fingers deeper into her flesh and tighter against her jaw, certain she would have marks in the morning but unable to loosen his grip, as if she were his only connection to reality.

"Fitz," a garroted shriek around his fingers before her knuckles were again blanched, gripping the headboard as her orgasm sped through her, arms trembling, legs shuddering, walls tensed around his shaft. He moved to entwine his fingers with hers on the headboard, the supple silk rubbing his wrists as it did hers when he stroked in and out of her. He concentrated on holding off his orgasm, savoring the feeling of her body submitting to his, sure he could make her come one last time.

Her arms ached and beads of sweat slipped along her spine. She felt yet another climax approaching, every nerve in her body singing with the electricity of Fitz's touch. When his fingers moved to trace a familiar circle over her pearl she knew there was no turning back and gritted her teeth to endure the tumult. Then she was engulfed, lit ablaze, falling through oblivion. And as all thoughts halted she managed to choke out a breathy, "I'm so sorry Fitz" before his hips bucked against hers one final time, the hot evidence of his climax pouring into her.

Fitz breathed hard against her back as he unbound her, gathering her damp, spent body against him. He peppered kisses along her shoulder and the curve of her neck, in awe of the depth of his love for her. She turned to face him, a satisfied smile on her face, "Sorry we fought."

He brushed a curl from her face, allowing his palm to rest on her cheek, "Baby, I'll fight with you anytime if it ends with makeup sex like that."