Strange Saturdays and Sweet-Talking Soldiers

Etta James – I'll Take Care of You

I know you've been hurt by someone else
I can tell by the way you carry yourself
But if you let me here's what I'll do
I'll take care of you

It was Saturday.

Usually, I dreaded Saturdays but I wasn't in Washington anymore. Instead of my routine life as a lawyer in New Jersey, I was pushed into the whirlwind life of owning my own company. It was all very discerning, especially now that I had responsibility over my colleagues, or as Harrison labelled - 'Gladiators'.

We had just closed the Sara Harding's divorce case. It wasn't any divorce case as her husband and partner had disappeared with all the company's shares and capital. Somehow, after we succeeded in finding him, Pope and Associates was suddenly eminent and soon the phones were ringing. The Washington Post had even done a page 6 article where I was crowned. I was no longer Olivia Pope, a simple solicitor – I was now 'The Fixer'.

So, once I considered all the new case, I knew that we would all need the weekend free, much to Abby and Harrison's excitement. Huck had been more reserved with his reaction but I caught the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips when I joked that he could finally go eat a Shake Shack cheeseburger. I knew that they were his favourite.

After four days, I was just relieved to be out of the tension within the confinements of the office. Also, it was nice to be out of the pantsuit and now comfortably dressed in the black casual sweatpants and my grey oversized sweatshirt.

If my clients could see me now.

Fortunately, McLean was a few miles away from Connecticut Avenue so I doubted that I would cross paths with any of them.

In my defence, the darkened night, brought a cold chill to the streets and I had just gotten back from the gym. When I finished working out on the treadmill, I headed down to the swimming pool which is where I lost track of time.

Now, it was 10:30 and I was just too tired to go home and cook. Also, I knew that if I went up to the apartment, I would drink my new congratulatory bribe '83 Chateau Margaux. Then, I knew that I would collapse on the bed on an empty stomach.

At least in Krammerbooks, I would get something to eat…even if it was a Crab Cake Sandwich, a large chocolate brownie and my favoured caramel cappuccino.

Regardless, I found ease in relaxing and hiding in the dark booth at the back. The small sconces exposed a bright enough golden light, allowing me to read my worn out paperback of 1984 by George Owell. My navy duffel bag was now safely tucked under the chair as I sighed, revelling in the warmth.

Only when I was about to flip to the next page, something flickered in the corner of my eye.

"He who controls the past controls the future"

At the sound of the book being quoted, I tipped my head up only to be struck into numbness at the awaiting electric blue eyes. Silver flecks blazed within the azure, awakening a small playful and boyish smile to curl his pink lips.

"And he who controls the present controls the past" I finished with a small smile, recalling one of my favourite quotes. "A George Oswell fan?" I placed my finger on the page, bookmarking as I gave him my attention.

Penetrating steel blue locked onto an inquiring stare. "Who isn't in Washington?" he teased and I bit down on my lip at the sight of his grin widening, flashing his gleaming white teeth. His hand then swept up to his soft ebony locks as he ran his fingers through. I found myself momentarily distracted by the hazelnut and mahogany highlights.

"Republicans for one…" I pointed out once I found my voice but my thoughts reeled as I wished I was in one of my more immaculate pastel suits…or anything more flattering.

Men weren't usually in my radar; especially Washington men. The ones that had shown an interest didn't even bother to hide the recent tan line on their ring fingers. Either that or they were domineering, manipulative or arrogant. Edison for one – well actually he was one of a kind as he acquired all three traits.

My gaze fell down to study how regardless of the thick camouflage jacket, his muscled form was still outlined. His matching cap was now crumpled in his fist which was pressed tightly against his thigh. The tension causing his knuckles to whiten and I frowned at the sight.

"So…Athlete?" he inquired.

Glancing up, I blinked for a moment before furrowing my eyebrows and giving him a mock scowl. "How long have you been watching me?" I narrowed my eyes when he shrugged and smirked wickedly.

"Or gym teacher?" he continued to guess.

Before I could help it, the book was forgotten and I had fallen back, crossed my arms over my chest as I regarded him with pursed lips. He didn't back down so I sighed in defeat. "I just went for a swim" I replied and leaned forwards, my crossed hands now on the table. "It's my day off" I revealed.

"And it's a Saturday night" he stated with a slight disapproving tone. "No friends? No clubs?" he wondered with a hitched bow.

I shook my head in distaste at the very thought of me in a scanty clad form while bumping around within a bunch of hot sweaty crowd. "Not really my scene" I frowned.

"And this is?" he glanced around amusedly and with great interest as he gestured around the quaint little café.

Despite his young boyish features, his dulled eyes were tired…aged and I could only imagine the things he must've seen. "I could ask you the same thing" I murmured numbly, finding it strange as to why I wanted to unravel each secret hidden within.

"Touché" he smirked but the glimmer of light fleeted.

I drummed my fingers on the table and dropped my eyes, trying to count back from ten and gather my erratic thoughts. When I darted back up, I found him staring intently at me, almost as if he was searching for something and it scared me.

Plastering a smile, I tried to distract him. "So, soldier…?" I pointed towards his uniform.

"Just got back" he replied with nonchalance.

I leaned in slightly, wishing that he would close in the space and sit opposite me, rather than sitting a foot away. "Where were you stationed?" I wondered with genuine curiosity.

"Ardakan" he answered curtly and judging by the tone of his voice, I knew he wasn't one for war. The hatred flared with the hardened rage in his tone.

I nodded with a heavy sigh, remembering all the newspaper articles and footage that constantly overwhelmed the TV. "Iran…?" I confirmed and he simply nodded. "How long are you in town?" I asked, allowing myself to lose myself in my thoughts again.

"Two weeks" my soldier perked up slightly and with his head slightly bowed, I could tell that he was falling deep in thought. I knew that if I let it go any longer, the memories might reel back to the darker moments.

Before the troubled look could overcome him, I acted on instinct. My finger now tracing the rim of the coffee cup as I peeked up at him from under my lashes, "I guess you should make each day count"

-XxxxxX-

"Ah" I gasped when my back hit the door, not out of pain but in immense pleasure. This only loudened when he wouldn't stop as his hands were woven deeply into my tresses. He had already broken the hair tie, realising the dampened curled locks.

My next moan was caught in his throat when his fevered lips captured mine again. The frenzied touch of his restless fingers pushed up my sweatshirt and I gasped at the contact. My back arching out to him and I felt his victorious smirk against my exposed neck as he placed light butterfly kisses down to my collarbone.

Somehow while I was lost within the passion, I found the strength to reach behind me and finally turn the handle and unlock the door. Even as we stumbled in, his strong hands were tightly secured around me but only paused to push the duffel off my shoulder. Thankful to have the weight lifted, I wound my arms around his neck and moulded myself against him.

Then, I paused reaching down to pull the sweatshirt off but his hands grabbed my wrists. "Let me…" he breathed and I felt his lips ghost over my earlobe while his hands pulled up the sweatshirt. I almost groaned at his agonisingly languid pace.

He teased me when trailing his fingers along the waistband of my sweatpants before finally pushing them down. The cotton now pooled at my feet and I eagerly stepped out of them but bit my lip as his hungry eyes roamed over my simple black sports bra and lace black underwear.

Pushing away any doubtful insincere thoughts, I frantically approached him. "My turn" I smiled, happy with his lusty response as I removed his jacket. I was surprised with how heavy the material was but the thought fleeted when I stared at his bulging muscles under the white wife beater. Around his neck was a military tag necklace but I didn't get a chance to look at the script as he distracted me with his heated touch.

The scalding caress trailing down my collarbone and down my shoulder, causing me to shiver in delight. I returned the favour by pushing down his trousers, while he took off the wife beater, thus leaving him in his boxers.

My lingering stare on his was broken when I yelped, feeling like school girl when he scooped me up in his arms. Instantly, my legs were wrapped around his waist, allowing him to rush us both into my room.

When I felt the plush warmth of the bed beneath my back, I flittered up and sighed in happiness. My whole form relaxing back but suddenly enflamed when he hovered above me. From my peripheral vision, something caught my eye and I slipped my hand up, trembling fingers tracing the scar on the pane of his chest.

He released a shaky breath so I appeased him when gently placing a hand on the nape of his neck and carefully pulled him back down. This time, the kiss was deliberately slow as I leisurely drew my tongue over his bottom lip. The flames burned in bittersweet silence as I silently accepted his pain and tried to satisfy any anguished memories…even if it was for one night.

His fingers whispered down my side and I felt his fingers trail up to my back and fumble with the ties of the bikini. "So beautiful…" he murmured and moulded our lips again with a more urgent kiss as he continued to explore my body. "So perfect" he breathed and I shuddered at the words, feeling his words brand my skin with the impassioned breath.

Suddenly, his statements were interrupted with his sharply drawn breath. I mourned the loss of his touch when he withdrew back from me and stared down at me breathlessly. His pounding heart rumbled within his chest and I felt the rhythmic beat against me. "I'm Fitz"

"What?" I laughed at the absurdity. This then erupted into yet another laugh when I realised that we never actually introduced ourselves to one another.

He titled his head to the side and the same boyish grin lightened his features, making me smile. "You will want to scream my name later" he promised me with a final sternness that had me hitching an eyebrow.

"Cocky" I noted, entertained with his impishness.

Adorning another mischievous expression, he glanced down and emphasised when pressing himself closer onto me. "Very much" he agreed and I rolled my eyes.

Slinging one arm around his neck, I brought up the other and locked stares. "Olivia" I replied.

"Olivia" he repeated with a strangely euphoric and breathless tone. Once again, his touch had trailed down my sides and to the strings of my bikini bottoms and I knew that I was lost.

-XxxxxX-

Rather than waking up from a deeply satiated slumber, I was startled into consciousness with a low anguished groan. Blinking away from the darkness, I was reminded of the night before, but the smile fell as soon as I heard the grunt fall through clenched teeth.

The sound startled me awake and I turned to him, frantically grabbing hold of his shoulder. He only grumbled again and I caught how he squeezed his eyes shut as he clutched my pillow. I hastily shook his form, trying to stir him but he only mumbled incoherently. A sheen of perspiration dotted his forehead and his hair was dampened as his forehead creased.

My eyebrows furrowed deeply and my concern heightened as a tear strayed down his cheek. "Fitz" I whispered harshly but he didn't wake. "Fitz!" I yelled loudly and the third time did it as he gasped and shot up from the bed.

For a few seconds, he remained silent and the only sound in the still tension was his heavy breaths that rumbled in his chest. His body shivering and when I reached up to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, he jumped and whirled around. Wide bewildered eyes found mine and I remained still, fearful of scaring him again. "Fitz?" I murmured worriedly but I could tell he was simply looking through me.

After another second ticked by, I was surprised when he pulled away and rolled off the bed. "I need to go" he hysterically announced.

Before I registered the words, I could only watch as he rushed around, hurriedly picking up different items of discarded clothing. On his warpath, he slipped into his boxers and trousers. His wife beater was missing so he simply shrugged into the jacket.

Whipping around, my heartbeat raced when looking at the neon lights: 02:33.

Pushing off the covers, I realised that I was in his wife beater but made no comment as I ran towards him, following through the living room. "It's the middle of the night. Where would you go?" I quizzed.

"I-I just need some air" he wildly searched around and I felt sympathetic, helpless when I caught his own desperation. He obviously had some demons haunting him; demons that I couldn't comprehend; demons that he seemed to bear alone.

I moved around him and placed my hands on my hips. "Fitz, you are not thinking straight" I tried to reason with him and hesitantly reached up to place my hand on his shoulders.

"I-I can't…" he shook his head and another grunt left him.

Dropping down to rest my palms onto his chest, I slid up to cup his face. Only, pausing when I felt his rapid heartbeat pound against my touch. "You just need to calm down" I whispered, trying to appease him with the calm but demanding voice. I felt my stomach sink when he gulped and finally sighed when closing his eyes. "I'm here…" I offered, hoping that would console him when he understood that he wasn't alone.

Thankfully, his shoulders visibly relaxed but mine dropped when he turned around to leave. His hand simply rested on the handle as he silently contemplated over it.

Doing something I had never done, I wrapped my arms around him and rested my cheek against his heated back. "Don't go" I pleaded quietly and felt himself shiver again. "Just...come back to bed" I offered and let one hand fall down to take hold of his.

Still, he made no move so I took the next step and tentatively pulled down his jacket, letting it drop to the ground. "I'm here" I repeated and could feel his heartbeat gradually slow down. Entwining our fingers once again, I turned him around but he kept his head bowed as I led him back through the darkness and into my room. "It's okay" I encouraged when his steps faltered by the doorway.

Slowly and tiredly, he peered up to rest his apprehension so I placed a hand on his cheek again. This time, he walk on his own accord and soon we were safely tucked under the thick warm blankets.

I pushed down his trousers and tangled our legs together. My arms were around him as I rested my head onto his chest, listening to calming drumming beat. With time, the tremors were tranquilised and his sharp breaths evened as I ran my fingers through his velvet locks soothingly.

In return, he clung onto me like I was the last hope he had.

"I'm here" I silently promised, wishing that I could fix the troubles in this man.

A/N: To clue you in, the next chapter is called Better Days for Breakfast Dates. Hope that you liked it and please be kind and leave a review to let me know what you think? Should it go on?

M rated to be careful but nothing too lemony…