A/N: Slightly AU take on Olivia and Fitz's relationship, for clarification. I am in no way supportive of abusive relationships, physical or otherwise, but as a writer I feel it is my responsibility to explore every possibility (even if it's difficult or unpopular). This is my own characterization. Do not read if this topic offends you.
She was better than this.
She'd graduated first in her class from a top law school. She'd learned everything she knew from the best of the best. She'd made a President from an underdog. She'd built her company from the ground up and was representing some of the most powerful people in the nation, nay, the world.
Yet there Olivia was, timidly explaining to an older woman in line at Starbucks that she'd bruised her cheek in a freak accident involving a precarious pair of heels and a dark corridor in her apartment building. The older woman gave her a sympathetic smile and gently patted her arm.
Olivia fought the urge to tell the old woman off, though she knew the woman was only trying to be nice. She gave a tight smile, grabbed her coffee a little too forcefully from the barista, and marched off.
Back in the car, Olivia smeared concealer over her cheek in the visor mirror, wincing as she blended it. Even with the added layer, the purplish mark was stull noticeable.
She imagined telling her tripped-in-the-hallway story to Abby and gave a snort of laughter.
She typed out a quick text message to her staff instructing them to take the day off. It was a Friday, and the week had been slow. They had just closed a high profile case over the weekend and not much had happened since then. She hoped no one would question her decision, but what about to silence her phone just in case, when a block number called.
She let out a sigh and counted seven rings before answering.
"I'm sorry Liv."
Olivia opened her mouth to answer him, hesitated. Changed her mind. A beat passed.
"Livvie, please baby. It was an accident. Come over so we can talk. Please."
Fitz's voice was a whine, like that of a petulant child. Olivia made no move to reply. She held her breath, resolving not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her breathe. He was halfway through letting out another mournful plea when she ended the call and quickly turned off the phone, tossing it under the passenger seat before turning the car towards home.
Olivia was awake when the Secret Service knocked on her door at three in the morning. She rose from the spot on the couch she'd claimed since noon and was halfway to the door when another, more impatient knock followed the first.
Two Secret Service agents filled her doorway. She didn't remember their names, but they both had the generic look anyway. Dark suits, dark glasses, close haircuts. Blank faces. One of them looked ready to say something when Fitz pushed past them both and swiftly closed and locked the door.
Olivia had already made her way back to the living room, where she was gathering her wine glass and the various snacks that littered her coffee table.
"Olivia, what the hell? I've been calling you all day. Are you ignoring me now?"
He was following her back and forth from the kitchen to the living room as she picked up each dish and wrapper one at a time.
"Liv, baby, can you just look at me, please? I'm trying to apologize here." His tone was getting more and more aggressive.
She'd successfully made six trips when she heard a crash and Fitz swore loudly.
"Dammit, Olivia. Look at me!"
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before turning to assess the damage.
He was standing next to the small table that had previously held a vase. The fragments were now across the room, littering the floor with broken flowers below a wet spot on the wall.
She could see him breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He took two steps toward her. "I just want to apologize, sweet baby."
"I'm so sorry. You know I didn't mean it. It was all just a big misunderstanding." He continued to move closer.
A bubble of anger Olivia hadn't noticed before that moment rose to the surface.
"Misunderstanding?" She let out a bark of laughter. "There was no fucking misunderstanding, Fitzgerald."
"It was an accident, Olivia," he cried, now standing directly in front of her.
"You slammed my face into a wall."
In a flash, he reached his left arm out and grabbed her arm. "I was only holding you. You fought me, Olivia. You threw yourself into that wall."
"Let me go."
He squeezed her arm, and she knew that despite the weather, she'd be wearing long sleeves tomorrow. "No! Not until you understand. Not until you stop this."
"I told you yesterday, Fitz. This is over. I can't do this anymore."
He looked near tears. "You can't do this to me. I love you, Liv."
"Let go."
"What about everything we said?"
"You're hurting me." Olivia struggled to pull her arm away, but he held on tighter. His right hand rested on her collarbone.
"You're hurting me, Livvie. You're breaking my heart. Don't do this to me." His right hand tightened.
She looked into his eyes, could see his resolve breaking. If there was one thing Olivia knew, it was how to diffuse a tight situation. She reached her free arm out and stroked his cheek and his grip loosened.
"I could never leave you."
He searched her face, found everything in order. A face-splitting smile spread across his face as he brought both of his hands to her hips and pulled her flush against him.
"I know, baby. I love you."