A/N: Just a song-based piece that I thought of randomly a month or so ago that I'm just now finishing (I think it's my method of coping during this hiatus). As always, reviews/comments are well loved and appreciated and I'm working on new installments of "Melt My Heart to Stone" so don't worry and stay tuned for those!

Waking Up is the Hardest Part

In dreams, she comes to him.

Of course, in real life, she is everything that he wants. She's still the love of his life. He wouldn't change a single hair on her head. But in dreams, she's something else entirely.

She's his.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not…
'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

She enters their extremely large hotel suite, dressed just in his tuxedo shirt from the night before, followed by room service. The ring on her left hand catches the morning light, sparkling, and he smiles. She's never looked more beautiful than she does in this particular moment. The delivery person discretely ducks out of their suite after setting up their breakfast on the nearby dining room table, leaving them to their own private world.

"Good morning, wife…"

A coy smile plays on her lips as she climbs underneath the covers and slides into his lap. A low groan escapes him and his hands find their favorite place: her hips. Her hair had been up all last night in a chignon but now hangs at her shoulders in loose curls, which fall forward as she leans in to kiss him.

"It is a very good morning… husband."

Her voice is low and it caresses that last word that he never thought she would call him. She wraps herself around him, falling into their kiss, and he turns her over so that she's lying beneath him. And then as quickly as it came, the moment's gone. He wakes, half on the couch in the baby's nursery and half off, about four inches away from faceplanting. His blanket is twisted around him like a straightjacket. He groans as he pushes away the clock that flashes 3:48am and shoves his head underneath his pillow.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No she can't…
'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

He watches her from the entryway to their kitchen with a content smile on his face. Music pours out of their iPod stereo and her hips sway along to the music as she mixes something in a bowl. She wears a pair of her yoga shorts with one of his faded grey Navy t-shirts that barely covers her already growing belly. Domesticity has never looked sexier, he suddenly thinks.

"You're up early…"

He comes to her, sweeping her hair from her shoulders, and kisses her behind her earlobe. She smiles and puts her hand on her stomach.

"Only because your daughter was demanding pancakes."

She gives him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth and then returns to cooking, setting down the bowl of pancake batter to go into the cupboard for the skillet. She then pauses, clutching her stomach and squeezing her eyes shut, and he's immediately in front of her, hands on her shoulders, concerned.

"What is it, Liv? Is it the baby?"

She exhales and then lets out a laugh. She immediately takes his hands and places them on her stomach, beaming up at him.

"If she doesn't want to go into politics, your daughter definitely has a career as a soccer player."

And right on cue, she kicks and he feels his heart explode in his chest. She reaches over and brushes a tear from the corner of his eye that he didn't even know was there. He blinks and she's gone again, waking to an empty bed. Mellie later glares at him all throughout breakfast and he realizes that he's probably started talking in his sleep again.

Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Would you get them if I did?
No you won't…
'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

He finds her in his new office, sitting atop a desk, surrounded by moving boxes. A playful smirk plays on her red lips and she crosses her legs, letting her crisp white dress inch up ever so slightly. He nearly drops the bouquet of white roses in his hand at the mere sight of her.

"Happy anniversary, Fitz…"

"You bought me a new desk for our anniversary?"

She chuckles as he draws closer to her and she gently takes him by the lapels of his blazer and pulls him towards her, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips are then on his, teasing him with only a fraction of what he knows that she has in store for him tonight, and he can't help but to let out a frustrated groan as she pulls away from him.

"You said that you needed one for this office… you don't like it?"

"Of course I like it… it's big… reminds me of my desk that I had in the oval."

She bites her bottom lip and giggles softly. Her hand runs down his shirt, fingers passing over each button slowly, until it finds itself at his belt buckle and she pulls him even closer, placing her lips at his ear.

"Why do you think I bought it?"

Her voice is barely higher than a whisper and yet it manages to send him into a frenzy. He shifts, pulls and tugs at her dress in all of the right places so that she's ready to be taken with her back flat against his desk. He leans in and she frames his face with her hands, staring intently at him.

"What is it, Liv?"

"I love you, Fitz… I know I don't say it enough but I love you."

He presses his forehead to hers and inhales deeply, breathing her and her words in. It was all worth it, he thinks. Everything that he had gone through had been worth it because she's here with him.

When he wakes, his forehead is against the cherry wood of his desk in the oval and through his bleary gaze, he reads 1:49am on his watch. He sighs heavily, burying his face in his hands. He can't do this anymore, he thinks, longing for a life with her that he couldn't and would never have.

Perhaps he should give up sleeping… because these dreams are killing him.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part…

["Dreaming with a Broken Heart" – John Mayer]