One Shot

Many of you have asked if I plan to finish my other stories and the answer is, "Absolutely!" I just have two jobs and am exhausted. But I will finish them, promise! Here's a little one-shot born out of the enormous bucket of feelings I had after Olivia's speech on National television. Enjoy. Or cry. Hope you feel something. Goodnight!

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked. She stopped cold and turned to him, the smile that had been on her face still lingered, half-present, as her mind caught up to what he asked. It had been a few months since that interview, and they had never discussed it. Of course he had seen it; of course it had hurt him to hear it. It had hurt her to say it.

She sighed, unsure where to begin, many thoughts racing through her mind. How not to hurt him further, how to be honest with him because that's what they said they would do, how not to lie, because he knew damn well that she had said it-the world knew. The pause was too long, and so he turned and continued downstairs after whatever it was he'd forgotten before bed.

"Fitz," she called after him. Her voice said that she didn't have anything to add, she just wanted him to feel better about it. She loved him, of course, but their relationship had cost her absolutely everything.

"I don't wish I'd never met you," he said. His wistful voice like a knife to her heart. "Even though my son is dead. My daughter won't speak to me, and my third son thinks his nanny is his mother. Even though I'll never know if the American people wanted me President, or if they did it out of sympathy. Or because you made it happen. I know loving me cost you," he whispered and then cleared his throat. "Loving you COSTS, too," he said resolutely. His mouth in a tight line.

"I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, Olivia. Good night."

"Aren't you coming to bed?"

"No." He went downstairs and she didn't follow. His slumped shoulders told her he wouldn't be comforted by her presence right now.

Saddened, but slightly perplexed at the sudden change in mood, she went to her side of the bed and sat down. Glancing at her phone, she realized the date and then understood. The anniversary of Gerry's death. The son her father took from him. And her interview had re-aired on some cable station so it was getting a mild amount of press. Now she really felt like an asshole for her behavior. She should have gone to him immediately after that interview and clarified her statements. Had he been pretending to not be bothered by what she said?

As Olivia readied for bed, she waited around for Fitz to come back to their bedroom. When he didn't, she sat on the edge of the bed, literally twiddling her thumbs. It had been two long months waiting for the press to die down about their affair. They were close to a new normal, but certain things had long since become established-Olivia Pope did not sleep well unless Fitzgerald Grant was by her side. She didn't confide this bit of information to him because she didn't have to. She traveled with him when he needed to be in another country, and when he was in D.C. they spent most of their free time together. At first it was hiding from the Press, and then it was because they could.

One night about six weeks ago she had had to stay with a client and Fitz couldn't wait for her to fly to London. She had promised to get the Redeye but she was exhausted, so she opted for a later flight and went home to her apartment to sleep. Quickly realizing she had half of her belongings at the White House, she had gone there in the middle of the night, but even being in their bed without him could not soothe her. She laid awake thinking of him, feeling the lack of his presence. She couldn't be without him anymore.

For him to think that she wanted to be rid of him or disconnected from him caused a mild wave of panic to rise in Olivia's chest. She stood up and took a deep breath, and then began to pace in circles around the room. Another 15 minutes went by and she had to know if he was even still on the property. The Secret Service Detail he trusted was on duty tonight, which meant that if he wanted to sneak away, he could. Suddenly overcome by a need to see Fitz, Olivia stepped into her slippers and threw a light robe around her shoulders. Her hair blew out behind her as she marched down the hallway in search of him. As she approached the Oval she heard his voice and barged in. He was on the phone and stopped short.

"Excuse me, please. I have to go." He put down the phone but didn't really look at her. "I thought you went to bed," he said as he busied himself with some papers on his desk.

"I, uh, was waiting for you," Olivia said as she edged her way to him. "Are you coming to bed, soon?"

"I don't know." He turned to face the window and looked out through the sheer white curtains.

"Don't do that," Olivia said, coming closer to him. "Don't shut me out."

"I'm just doing what you do best," he sighed. "I'm being pensive and thoughtful, then I'll say something passionate, and endearing, and we'll forgive each other for one night. Until the next time something gets difficult."

Olivia couldn't say anything, she knew he was right.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked, without turning back to face her. "I mean, I guess that's the story everyone has of us, right? I'm too old for you. I've stolen the best years of your life. I've tarnished your reputation, used you, and otherwise ruined your life, right? I MADE you fall in love with me and I'm making you STAY now?"

Olivia gasped with pain at his words. It couldn't be further from the truth of how she felt. While she would have loved to give him a speech, she only wanted to put her hands on him. So she did. Carefully, she walked towards him and snaked her arms through his. He wast tense at first, but when she placed her cheek against his back and breathed deeply, she felt him begin to relax, too.

"The story of us is a tragic one," Olivia said. "Is it true for you that I seduced you? That I set my sights on you to advance my own career? That I took you away from your wife and children and only want to be with you because of money and privilege?"

"No," he said, shocked that she could even think such a think.

"Hey, I know it's not true. I know you don't think that way of me. And Fitz, as much as you know that you love me, that's how much I know I love you. What I said in that interview-I wish we'd never met because your son would still be alive. You'd be the President because the American people elected you, or you'd be at home in California riding your horses, writing your books, or you'd be serving the country in some other way. You would be content, not raked over the coals. Your family would be in tact."

He turned in her arms then and held her face in his hands. They both let out the breaths they'd been holding when he reached down and kissed her lips slowly.

"I don't want any of that instead of you," Fitz said resolutely. "I don't want a quiet life on a ranch with just anyone as my partner. I don't want to write books and take walks and watch paint dry. I want to travel the world with you. I want you-Olivia Pope, in my arms every night. For the rest of my life."

"I hate to break it to you," Olivia said, as two tears rolled hotly down her cheeks. "That was pretty endearing and passionate. Don't ever leave me, okay?" She squeezed him tighter. "No matter what words I say, these are the most important. This love has cost me everything. But it's a price I'm happy to pay, in this moment. I love you. I love you more than any other soul on this planet, and I never want to be without you. I wouldn't take this back, not for anything, or anyone."

His forehead fell against hers, gently, both of them thinking of whether or not that was really true. Would it bring back his son? Restore her relationships with her parents? Could they be happy with other people?

"I sure hope you mean that. You could be relaxing on an island somewhere."

She stepped away from him then, a full smile on her face.

"What are you smiling at?" Fitz asked as Olivia tugged him towards their bedroom.

"A memory I hadn't recalled in a long time. The last time I really and truly relaxed."

"Oh? And when was that?"

"That night we made love for the first time," she said. He raised his eyebrows in shock.

"Not since then?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "I let go that night, and I gave in to you, to this," Olivia said as they made their way into the bedroom and she began to help him get undressed. "I had everything I wanted in that moment, because I had you. And I didn't hope for much between us, you surprised me. I didn't think you'd be that..." she didn't finish the sentence, but instead gave her approval as she appraised his near-naked body.

"You were sleeping," she said, "and I was laying awake, thinking." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him before stepping around him and pulling back the covers. She motioned for him to get in, and he followed instruction. Olivia climbed in after him and tucked herself under his arm, resting her head on his chest. She let out a deep breath and practically melted with ease and comfort. "I knew I was done for," she finished, as he reached over and turned out the lights. "There could never be anybody for me, but you."