A dark figure stood by the window, watching the nature lash out the rain and wind against the frame. The figure belonged to Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third, the former President of the United States. The gloom and darkness outside mirrored Fitz' mood and thoughts. Ever since he arrived to Seattle on the afternoon the day before, heavy rain and stormy winds didn't stop battling the city even for a minute. Weather forecast promised Fitz that he was not going to see any sunshine in the next two days that he was scheduled to remain there.

Fitz pushed the balcony door open and stepped onto the patio. Cold Washington rain surrounded him, punishing in its unrelentlessness. The rain although uncomfortable did the trick of hiding the tears that Fitz had shed. It's been five years today since his eldest son Jerry died. With time, grief and pain stopped being all-consuming and overwhelming, strenuous work and regular exercise helped a lot too. But the deep, mind-numbing sorrow that Fitz felt after losing Jerry was still there, barely kept at bay and at the outskirts of his mind. Being alone now and in this gloomy weather opened up a dam of tears and regret.

Standing under the cold streams of rain, Fitz could almost feel the anxiety and apprehension of Daniel and Hal, his loyal Secret Service agents. Rubbing his face, as if trying to erase the pain and helplessness, Fitz shook his wet curls out of his eyes and stepped back into the plush interiors of the Presidential Suit he was staying in.

Clearing his throat, he announced to the waiting and clearly disturbed agents:

"Guys, we need to leave in half an hour, or I will miss my opening speech at the fundraiser"

"Yes, sir" – the Secret Service agents replied in unison, clearly relieved that the President was still in the stable state of mind.

Fitz made his way into the master bedroom and stripped out of his wet clothes. He eyed the tuxedo hanging in the closet with disdain and apprehension. It was the last thing he wanted to do right now – put on fancy clothes and go mingle with rich people. But his post-White House schedule didn't allow him to take a day off, to grieve, to shut the world out, although he suspected that he might attempt to drown himself in scotch as soon as he was back from the fundraiser, even though he promised not to drink much anymore.

Hot shower, warm clothes, a cup of scolding hot coffee brought by concerned Daniel did the trick and Fitz' mood improved dramatically. As he observed the dark and wet streets of Seattle through the window of his limo, he could feel the emergence of Fitz The President, his public persona pushing out all personal thoughts, grief and loneliness to the back of his mind.

Two hours later, and raucous laughter, tasteless food and mindless mingling and conversations filled his evening to the brim. The audience was ecstatic to see the former President at their event, and he took hundreds of pictures and shook dozens of hands. His jaw started to ache from all fake smiles that he gave and his head started throbbing from all the noise that surrounded him. Fitz stopped Hal from following him outside with a negative shake of his head, and went out to get some much-needed fresh air. The patio he now stood on was covered, so he could enjoy the peace and quiet and rain and not worry about raising any eyebrows with his wet and wild appearances when he would deem it time to return to the crowds.

"Are you trying to find the stars in the sky, or are you hiding from your noisy and insistent lady-fans? – a playful voice from behind him made him swivel around.

"Livvie! What are you doing here?!"

Her eyes glistened in the dark and her smile was loving and warm, but tinged with sadness and sorrow. He opened up his arms and beckoned her with hushed "come here" and she fell gratefully into his embrace.

The feel of her small soft body, the smell of her hair, her irregular breathing he knew so well made him feel alive and like he could breath again, the coldness in his chest and the throbbing in his temples instantly receding.

"I didn't want to leave you alone today. I am so sorry I missed your speech… My flight was late, otherwise I would be here…" – she murmured quietly into his chest and tightened her arms around his waist.

"You are here now… Hi, baby"

Olivia raised her head to meet his tearful eyes and let her own tears drop.

"Hi" – she returned breathlessly, before Fitz connected their lips in a deep, warm kiss. His mouth touched her top lip first, then she gently nibbled on his lower lip, and they molded into each other, teasing, tasting, nibbling and caressing.

Fitz felt like he was soaring. Olivia's mere presence restored his sanity and calmed his troubled thoughts. Slowing down the kiss, he nuzzled her hair, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent.

"When did you get here? And why didn't you tell me that you were coming? Who got you from the airport?"

Olivia laughed quietly, cupping his face with her hands.

"Fitz, what's up with twenty questions? I was not sure if I was going to make it. I really didn't want to leave until I was sure we had Senator Stockwill's situation under control. It just got ironed out this morning and I hopped on the plane. I talked to Hal and he sent someone to bring me from the airport. Does this answer all your questions, you curious cat!"

Fitz smiled at her brilliantly, all thoughts of drowning himself in scotch completely out of his mind. He found her hand and rubbed her engagement ring tenderly, reminding himself that she was real, she was here and she was his.

Two years ago, his ugly and quite public divorce was finalized, which coincided with a third year into his second term of Presidency. By then, Fitz cared little to nothing about public opinions, his party's support and approvals. He waited a respectable three months before taking Olivia out on their first public date, which was closely covered and dissected by every major and not so major news outlet in the world. Cyrus and the new team of advisors that Fitz assembled tried to talk him out of going public and making any big waves in favor of sitting tight until his Presidency was over. But both Fitz and Olivia were done waiting and just wanted to move forward with their life, relationship and commitment.

Olivia herself worked hard to restore the powerful and positive image of President Grant. She was adamant to make their relationship work, but she didn't want Fitz to step down amidst controversy, divorce and infidelity rumors. Months and months of hard work performed by Olivia and her Gladiators resulted in Fitz' approval ratings back to tops, although her own consulting firm suffered greatly. Many a client decided to take their crises and dirty little secrets elsewhere since Olivia's name has been in the limelight and under scrutiny for so long.

Only in the last couple of months, the non-stop pursuit of paparazzi started to dwindle down and Olivia saw some of her oldest clients coming in. She regularly traveled with Fitz to accompany him on his never-ending public appearances and speeches commitments; they enjoyed discovering the world together. But when a particularly difficult client or a difficult case demanded her attention, Fitz himself insisted that she stayed behind and worked. This was how he found himself in Seattle alone, on Jerry's death anniversary, while Olivia was working on Senator's money embezzlement scandal. But now she was here, in his arms, and the air felt fresher, the noise more bearable and the night less dark.

"Shall we head back in" – Olivia was the first to break their comfortable embrace and reverie. She fished inside his jacket pocket for ever-present handkerchief and swiped her lipstick off his lips.

"There, you can go back and woo the crowds again, and not look like you spent the last few minutes making out with me on the patio, like a 15 year old"

Fitz 's smile made her weak in the knees:

"But I did spent the last few minutes making out with you, and I am oh-so-young at heart!"

She laughed at their silliness and pushed him back inside, winking at Hal on the way in.

"Go ahead, I will be right back, I need to find a power room"

Fitz rejoined the crowds and unceremoniously checked his watch. He would give it another thirty minutes, and they would be good to head out of here. He didn't even know how long Olivia could stay, but tonight she was his and with him.

He watched her work the room, approaching some familiar figures and introducing herself to new faces. He marveled at her beauty, her obvious ease of conversing with strangers and charming them with her smiles and wits. Ever since they went public and he divorced Mellie, some wall that Olivia constructed around herself and wielded it as a shield has crumbled, and she became warmer, brighter and more approachable. She was still a no-nonsense, formidable fixer extraordinaire, but there was an element of tenderness to all her interactions that made her all more attractive to him.

Olivia caught Fitz staring at her across the room, and sent him a dazzling smile, raising her eyebrows in question of his silent perusal. He was obviously not listening to whatever the Mayor of Seattle was telling him, choosing instead to look at her. She excused herself from the group of people she was engaged with, and glided across the room towards him, both of their smiles becoming wider and teasing.

"Mayor, have you met my fiancée? Liv, this is Mayor Murray, the chief of this fine though quite rainy city. Ed, this is Olivia Pope"

Fitz moved in to wrap his arm around her as she shook Mayor's hand and exchanged the pleasantries. They fell into an easy conversation, and Fitz completely tuned out, only aware of Olivia's body pressing into his, her laughter and voice in his ears, the tantalizing smell of her perfume dancing in his nostrils.

A pause in conversation drew his attention and Fitz realized he completely missed the question that was probably asked of him. He turned to look at Olivia, who was watching him with amusement, as if she read his thoughts and knew that he was daydreaming about her instead of participating in conversation.

"Fitz..?" – she teased, "Mayor Murray was asking what is your favorite oysters place here, and if we need a recommendation. I think we do?"

"Yeah Ed, where shall we go?

"Tanglewood is a must if you have never been!"

Easing out of conversation and bidding good-bye to the Mayor, Fitz took Olivia's hand and led her out of the room, feeling the eyes of dozens of people watch their exit.

They climbed back into the limo and snuggled into each other's arms.

"I missed you" – Olivia's voice was muffled by his tuxedo jacket – "I don't know how I used to go for weeks without seeing you, and now you have been barely gone for 48 hours and I miss you…"

Fitz gave her a warm kiss before staring into her eyes, trying to convey how important her being there was for him:

"Thank you Livvie, thank you for coming here. You don't know how much I needed that"

He hauled her into his arms and she straddled his thighs, arms entwined in her curls, their lips demanding, soothing and scorching at the same time. The sound of partition going up broke them out of their erotic haze and they laughed.

"Daniel and Hal had enough of our antics already, and I just got here" – Olivia snuggled deeper into Fitz arms, hiding her nose in his shirt collar. She thought he smelled the most amazing there, salty, fresh and musky, so Fitz.

They went up to the Presidential Suite slowly, arms wrapped around each other. Olivia watched the bellboy and hotel manager greeting them from afar and tightened her hold against Fitz' waist. Holding him, touching him in public felt amazing and she would never get tired of it. No more hiding and sneaking was doing wonders to their relationship, and she couldn't be happier. They started talking about kids, and Olivia got off her pill. Nothing happened yet, but she was hopeful that New Year will bring an addition to their new family.

Some time later, they lay naked in the tangled sheets of the king-size bed. Olivia was on her stomach, and Fitz was drawing lazy circles on her naked back. Her whole body was sore and she already started to feel a tingle in between her legs from 3 rounds of sex they just had. The last one was particularly rough, with Fitz behind her and her unable to control any of his movements but just submitting to his touch, rhythm and demands. She collapsed on her stomach after her last orgasm, and Fitz fell to the sheets next to her.

"You know, I was planning to get drunk here all alone. I know I promised you not to drink excessively anymore, but I don't think I would be able to hold my promise if you didn't show up"

His voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine, the huskiness caressing her ear in the sexiest of ways and the message behind his words making her uneasy.

"Fitz…" – she meant to start an admonishment, but his warm lips silenced her and she acquiesced and let the subject drop. Borrowing closer into each other's arms, they fell into deep slumber, free of sorrows, regrets and problems, busking in their love and presence.