Author's Note:Good morning. Here's another new one, guys. I'll be returning to the WIPs after this and if you have a request that you want to see, either a continuation of a D.D. or a new one, let me know and I'll see what I can do. Enjoy!
CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #35-(Law Enforcement Partners AU, Fitz, Olivia, Leo, Abby, mentioned past Mellitz Zombie, Edison/Olivia, and one sided Olake, best friends, first kiss, first time, Olitz, NSFW)
Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie:I'm not giving up on Olitz, even if the only happy endgame they get are the ones I create and the ones I get to read from other likeminded Gladiators. That being said, I'm still in mourning and my Muses are much less eager to cooperate with me but I shan't give up, not until The Creator literally kills them off and even then…yeah.
So, this one's a fanfic classic to the point of being cliché but I've been meaning to write something like this since I started watching. It's my tribute to timeless male/female partnerships like Booth and Brennan, Benson and Stabler, Castle and Beckett, Mulder and Scully…you get the idea. I hope you dig it and more on the WIPs, including II Corinthians will be up soon. Have a good one!
Mad Love, Jam, and Power Drills, ~*Trump*~
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
"Your Stevie playlist is on and you've made breakfast for dinner. You and Mellie are kaput?"
"Yep. No booze tonight. We've got the Club Crawl from 10 to 5 and then bullpen until after 7."
"Seriously?"
"We're getting overtime for the bullpen. Not enough to cancel out all the dubstep, though."
"I fucking hate Spring Break. I got you some more Laffy Taffy and Starbursts."
"Awesome. Sit and eat. Biscuits taste best when they're hot. Here's your juice."
"Thanks… so, what was Mellie's deal breaker?"
"She hated all of my long hours. She said that she was sick of coming in second place."
"Did she hate your long hours in general or your long hours with me?"
"Take a wild guess."
"Ugh. Figures… 'I'm not saying that you have to quit your job but I just don't understand why you have to spend so much time with your partner off the clock…don't you look at me like that! Don't look at me like…'"
"'…I'm the bad guy. If you were in my position, you'd be worried, too…have you seen the way…'"
"' '…he looks at you, sometimes? I mean, come on…of course, I trust you…it's…'"
" '…her that I don't trust…well, fine then…if your precious job is so much more important than us, if keeping your partner means more to you than being with me who's been so patient and loving and good to you despite everything…'"
"'…then we should just see other people!' It's a blessing, Liv. Mellie was nice to look at and decent in bed but her day to day personality was…"
"Annoying. Clingy. Bitchy. Southern Belle Cliché. Barely Hidden Racist. Gold Digger-ish…"
"Unpleasant."
"Okay, let's go with that…Edison called me again. He's going to be in town after visiting his aunt in New Orleans and he wanted to know if I was available to catch up."
"Catch up?"
"He either wants to get back together or he's just looking to press flesh. Either way, I'm not interested and I let him know that quickly, which led to a variation of the same unpleasant discussion you had with Queen Mellie."
"Why does everyone always assume that we're sleeping together?"
"We have the keys to each other's plates and civilian vehicles. We keep clothes and toiletries on hand for each other. We have each other's Netflix and Hulu passwords. We're each other's emergency contacts and power of attorneys. We've taken injuries and reprimands from IAB for each other. We've been partners for 8 years and have never asked for transfers or taken promotions that would separate us. You cook me food and carry an Epi pen in case bees sting me. I aid and abet your inner 6 year old on speed level sugar addiction. We regularly swim, spar, and do yoga together. You buy me tampons and remind me to put sunscreen on. I buy you stool softener and remind you to straighten your back at your desk during Paperwork days so you don't spend half your paycheck at the chiropractor's. Also, we…"
"All right, Little Woman. You've made your point."
"The two of us shagging like rabbits is a very reasonable conclusion to draw, Fitz. An incorrect and occasionally annoying one but reasonable."
"Did you just say shagging like rabbits?"
"I watched the Austin Powers movies last night and by movies, I mean 1 and 3. The second one should not be spoken of ever."
"The second one gave us Fat Bastard, Mini Me, and introduced the whole time travel concept that made the 3rd one possible. You can't just dismiss that."
"I can, I will, and I did. Fuck you and that movie, Mister."
"Fuck you, too, Livvie. Pass the Sriracha, please..."
"Go lay down, Liv."
"I'm fine."
"Go lay down, Liv."
"You haven't finished your paperwork yet and you're my ride home, remember? I'm fine."
"It's going to be at least another 45 minutes. Go upstairs and lay down, Olivia. Now."
Not even looking up from his last stack of DD5s, 38 year old Detective Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III could feel his partner's pouting death glare on him but he knew that she'd eventually get up and go to the Cribs. Other than Captain Beene, he was the only person she deigned to listen to and he also knew that she was fighting off a killer migraine.
Miami was a city of lights and sound, especially during the Spring Break madness, and those lights, sounds, along with traffic gridlock, techno loops and breaking up minor frat boy scuffles had taken its toll on her. Not to say that Olivia Pope was a shrinking violet that needed bubble wrap coddling. Anyone saying that was a damned fool and if the 32 year old Detective could hear them, they'd be bleeding profusely but she was still human with human limitations, including the need for sleep.
After 15 minutes of death glaring at his bent head and with a soft huff that sounded suspiciously close to a yawn, Olivia rose up from her desk and headed towards the stairs. Fitz endured her "accidental" bump into his chair and retaliated with a quick poke to her side to make her squeak. Her face was mulish and Fitz merely cocked a challenging brow. Her lips pursed and he could see the debate on whether decking him was worth it or not play over her expressive features. Eventually, she sighed and relaxed, giving him a sleepy version of her 'okay, you win,' smile.
"There's some Excedrin Migraine, a red Powerade and some Jif bars in my bag. Have at 'em."
"Thanks. When we get out of here, I'll cover breakfast."
"Your money's no good with me. You know that. Have a nice nap."
She patted his shoulder and Fitz made sure the Cribs door closed behind her before turning back to his paperwork and…
"Y'know, twee shit like that fuels all the conspiracy theories about you two."
"Blow me, Bergen."
34 year old Detective Leonardo 'Leo' Bergen sat down at his desk across the aisle from him and propped his feet up. The DC transplant was a damned good at his job, especially with interrogations but his brash personality made him a 'hate him or love him' type of guy. Fitz fell in the first camp. Leo told it like it was and anyone with a lack of bullshit, especially since he had grown up surrounded by Big Jerry's, was all right in Fitz's book.
"You and O.P. are married, aren't you? You finally got married after you helped the Feds with that crazy money laundering case in Vegas last year. Cap keeps it quiet because you two are his Favorites plus everyone else is too chickenshit to deal with her on the regular."
"Liv and I aren't married, Leo. We're not having sex, either. We're just friends and partners."
"Fuck that just partners shit! Y'all are as married as me and Red! You're just living in denial!"
Red was 33 year old Head Coroner Dr. Abigail 'Abby' Whelan-Bergen, hailing from Albuquerque and a successor to Dr. Lauren Smith, who was now Forensic Pathology Professor Lauren Smith-Benson at the University of Florida. Abby had joined their precinct at the same time Leo did in '06 and the man had fallen for her like 3 tons of bricks. The brilliant and ballsy redhead had fallen just as hard but had held out until New Year's Eve 2008. She had shown up to the annual dinner/dancing hotel party in a slinky Jessica Rabbit-esque emerald gown, grabbed a shellshocked looking Leo by the belt buckle, and the pair hadn't been seen again until January 5th.
They had gotten married on April Fool's Day of 2009 and were still going strong 6 years later.
"Bet you 20 that Ballard's going to slide his sorry cow tipping ass in here at 8:59 and a half..."
"I don't like to waste my money and he'd still be on time."
"On time is 10-20 minutes early, not 8:59 and a half especially during Spring Break! I'm glad we added a fourth to the Unit. We've needed one since Rasheed sold out to the Feds last summer but did Cap have to partner me up with the annoying little shit?"
"Liv only works well with me and keep in mind that you were an annoying little shit when you first got here, too."
"Yeah, I was but I had redeeming qualities. I was willing to change and become a better man. The only things that Ballard's really interested in are licking political asses, talking shit, and doing O.P. from behind."
"I've noticed that…"
Ballard was Detective Jake Ballard, a 33 year old from Wilmington, IN and…he could do the job. He could do the job well at times but his personality left much to be desired. He came from a long line of cops, dating back to Prohibition, and he had the cocky sense of entitlement to go with his blue shield pedigree. He had been a big fish at his old Precinct. Officially, he had transferred so he could take care of his mother who had finally had enough of the Midwest's horrible winter effects on her bones but scuttlebutt said that it was a 'get out or be thrown out' situation.
Ballard had joined their Precinct 8 months ago and made no secret of his feelings of disdain towards himself and lust for his partner. Olivia was completely uninterested in him and had made it clear but that wasn't really deterring the toad. Apparently, he had been somewhat of a Casanova back in Indiana and wasn't used to a woman turning him down so easily. Ballard hadn't gotten malicious but some of his comments skirted the razor's edge of being sexual harassment and the looks he gave Olivia when he thought no one was watching made everyone's hackles rise. Eventually, he'd cross the line blatantly enough that Cyrus could finally get rid of him without The Brass raising hell about a potential wrongful termination suit.
Waiting for that eventually was nerve wracking and in the meantime, Ballard was quite adept at getting on even the mildest person's last left, right, and center nerves.
He had managed to get the leader of the Cybercrime Unit, a usually calm albeit grim man, named Diego "Huck" Munoz so pissed off that it took his Second in Command (and longtime live in lover) Quinn Perkins and two others to hold him back from snapping his neck. Cyrus had given him traffic duty for a month after the Incident and Ballard was still "strongly encouraged" to stay away from the computer labs.
Fitz had been offering to deal with him but Olivia had shut him down, saying that it was highly unlikely that Ballard would be around to bother everyone much longer and she didn't want him to get in trouble with IAB again, at least not without it being worth it.
Besides, she could take care of herself. Fitz knew that she could. Hell, he owed at least 5 of his 9 lives to her but still…
"Go and lay down, man. I'll finish up your Stack so you're not driving drowsy."
"Are you sure?"
"Mm-hm. I already finished my Stacks and you look like you're about to keel over. Besides, starting your Monday morning with Ballard's bullshit after having to deal with the Club Crawlers all weekend would be cruel. I got you. Go and nap with your wife."
"Liv's not my wife, Leo."
"Not legally, anyway. Shoo, Old Man. I've got this."
/
The bottom bunk shifted and Olivia sighed softly as the familiar blend of Aqua Velva, Bvlgari Green, and gun oil surged into her nostrils. The twin thuds of his shoes landing next to hers came next and she let out a grateful moan as he hung his jacket next to hers to block out more of the sun. She loved living in Florida. She loved living in Miami, even with all the Spring Breakers and other tourists running around like maniacs, but right now, bright light was not her friend. The Excedrin had helped with the sensitivity to sound and her snack had helped the nausea but she still felt like shit. She wanted to feel like shit at home or in Fitz's guest suite but that wasn't happening until she got a nap and maybe a Mountain Dew on the way out.
She was grateful for her partner Mother Henning her earlier, not that she'd ever tell him that.
She didn't have to tell him. He already knew.
Fitz always knew and understood…
"You finished your Stack?"
"Leo took over for me so I could get a nap before taking us home."
"Good. You look like the Crypt Keeper's cousin and I don't want to end up dead because you fell asleep at the wheel. I'm in the wrong underwear to bite the dust today."
"The wrong underwear?"
"When I end up on a morgue slab somewhere, I want to be wearing cute and fun underwear instead of boring ugly ones. You really haven't thought about stuff like that?"
"No, I really haven't."
"Why would you? You're a man and you don't wear underwear most of the time, anyways."
"What can I say? I like to live dangerously and be free."
"More like free ball...your coochie killer just swinging in the breeze like Tarzan and Jane…"
"Must you always be so goddamned crude?"
"Absolutely. Shut the fuck up. It's naptime and I lied about paying for breakfast, by the way."
The deep sigh he let out in response to that last statement was equal parts annoyed and amused. The bunk shifted again and soon, his head was between her breasts. Their arms went around each other and she idly ran her fingers through his thick waves as they drifted towards slumber.
3 years into their partnership, they had gone undercover as a married couple in order to break up a Pill Factory and the sleeping position had started as part of their strategy. It would sell the idea that they were a loving couple to whoever else was monitoring the room and if they were compromised, Fitz would be a human shield for her long enough to get to the gun underneath her pillow. After the Case, the cover couple of Marisa and Howard Washington were put in the history books but not the sleeping position. That had stayed with them, along with their habit of napping together, whether in the Cribs or at one of their places.
It had also led to a much more civilized and sad version of the blowout Fitz had with Mellie with Dr. Stephen Finch…
"…Olive, you're in love with him…Fitz is your partner and your best friend, yes but he is also the love of your life…I'm not accusing you of cheating on me with him. You would never hurt someone like that but…your mind may be stopping you from embracing your feelings for him right now but you heart wants what it wants, love and unfortunately, it's not me…"
Stephen had gone back to Scotland and they had remained very good friends after their breakup, him even naming his firstborn with a kind sculptor named Susan Ross, Oliver. She had tried to completely disregard his words but…well, she couldn't anymore. It wasn't just Stephen. It wasn't just Marcus. It wasn't just Edison. It was Abby and Leo and Huck and that goddamned idiot Ballard. Hell, even her mother. When Maya Pope called from wherever romantic/exotic/amazing travel blogging location she was with Dominic Bell with, she always asked four main questions…
"Did anyone shoot at you again? Are you getting enough sleep? Has Fitzgerald confessed his undying love for you yet and why are you so afraid to let that boy love you?"
If that wasn't enough, her biological father Eli had weighed in on the situation when his superiors at the Smithsonian had forced him to take vacation 2 years ago, leading to a Miami visit and one of the most stilted Sunday dinners of all time...
"You could do worse than Detective Grant, Olivia. He's decent. He'll do."
Coming from Eli Pope, that was the equivalent of a hearty backslapping 'welcome to the family' and a 'call me when the babies start coming, I'll set up the boarding school and college funds.'
The fraternization rules didn't outright forbid forming relationships with co-workers. It was "ill advised" but not forbidden. What the rulebook was really concerned about were relationships between subordinates and superiors. She and Fitz were of equal rank. And if they got together, all Cyrus would have to do was put Fitz with Leo and leave her solo until Ballard got fired, which would be any minute now, and put her with the fool's replacement.
She didn't trust Jake Ballard, not as a fellow officer and certainly not enough to trust him to have her back in the field. He'd so busy staring at her ass and flirting badly that he'd get her shot by some two bit crook robbing a tourist's grandma. Or she'd been on suspension for shooting his cock off. Either way, she and Ballard wouldn't work out.
Fitz was her best friend and her confidant. She was very close to Leo and Abby Bergen. She had a wonderful rapport with Quinn Perkins and Diego Munoz. Captain Cyrus Beene was like a surrogate father figure, a grumpy gay dragon uncle with a black heart of gold. Jake Ballard could eat shit and die slow but Fitz?
Fitz was her friend, her true friend, her best friend…her…was he more? Could he be more?
Did she really want him to be more?
The list of facts about their dynamics she had rattled off before the Club Crawl sounded like they were already more. He bought her tampons and she knew intimate details about his colon's temperamental nature, for fuck's sake. That couldn't fall neatly under the 'just partners' and 'best friends' banners. And yes, good partners usually ended up with a space made for them in their homes and yes, good partners hung out after hours but she and Fitz essentially lived in each other's back pockets. They were joined at the hip so it wasn't too big a leap to assume that they were joined at the groin, too.
She and Fitz becoming more than they already were…it was a classic either/or situation.
Either they would work out tremendously, lasting for the next 50 years or they would crash and burn, ruining not just their professional partnership but the most important relationship either of them had…
Olivia saw that he was still awake and when their solemn gazes met, they said the same thing.
I can't lose you.
She looked away first and turned her head so it nestled deeper into the pillow.
Such deep thoughts would have to be hashed out eventually but for now, it was naptime.
/
3 Days Later…
"I knew you'd be the one to acknowledge it out loud first."
"Acknowledge what?"
"The big ass candy cotton pink elephant in the room that follows you and Fitz everywhere with little hearts and interracial Cupids floating all around it. Duh!"
"It's really that obvious? We've really been that dense?"
"O.P., even Ballard sees it and all my visitors in a year have higher brain functions than him."
"Gingersnap, all of your yearly visitors are dead."
"Exactly…oh, don't look so glum, chum. Fitz is awesome and you two will be great together. You already are. Now, you'll just get to fuck him and lord, that's gonna be fun. He looks like good sex and since you two are already close, he probably knows what you like."
"No probably about it…see, when we did that undercover case, I told him a few things so when we were roaming around and in the hotel room, it would be easier to sell us being a couple. He told me stuff, too and we did…we didn't go all the way but…Abs, it'll be great or a disaster and with track record with relationships, along with his…I can't lose him. I just can't. He's my best friend and my partner and if we fuck it up…"
"You won't."
"But…"
"You two won't fuck it up. It'll be hard, sometimes because even the best couples fight but you and Fitz are Destiny. You'll get together and it'll work out."
"I guess so…I have to tell him how I'm feeling but I don't know how or when to do it."
"You're a woman of action. If you can't get the words out, then show him."
"What if he pushes me away? What if he says no?"
"He won't."
/
"Hi."
"Hi. I smell brownies so you're in a good mood."
"It's a beautiful Friday, the Spring Break madness is over at last and unless an alien invasion pops off, we're off until Thursday evening. I'm not just happy, I'm fucking blissful. So, did you hear about Ballard?"
"I was in court and then asleep until a half hour ago so, no. What did he do?"
"Oh, my God, it's the best tea! Lipton better take notes! I couldn't believe it…"
"What the hell did that schmuck do now?"
"Are you ready for it? It's good shit…"
"Olivia, tell me already! What did he do?"
"He did the police commissioner's wife! They were going wall to wall!"
"Are you serious? Jake Ballard and Joan Reston?"
"I'm serious as all the heart attacks! Reston came home early and Ballard actually pulled an R. Pedophile and hid in the closet. The story goes that when Reston found him in there, he ended up having to jump out of the third story bedroom window and over a fence so he wouldn't get his wedding tackle shot off. That's why he was on crutches on the way to Cap's office…"
"…and also explains why Reston came down from his castle to storm ours. Wow… the funny thing is that Reston's been cheating on his wife with his job and his secretary for years, though."
"Yeah, but some boys never want to play with an old toy until a new boy wants it. It's typical patriarchal double standard bullshit. Anyway, I am pleased to inform you that the end of the Jake Ballard era is nigh and neigh. He won't get canned because there's no written rule against what he did but according to a very gleeful Quinn, there's a filled opening for an experienced detective in Anchorage, Alaska as of two hours ago. The going away party is Monday and I'm going to show up for free cake. I'm thinking of giving him some snow shoes as a good riddance gift. Either that or a case of bear spray or ooh, how about a toboggan? Yukon, Ho!"
"The Yukon is in Canada, Liv but nice Calvin and Hobbes reference."
"Please, Alaska is about 15 minutes and one more disastrous Administration away from seceding. Am I the only person that wishes that Obama could stay POTUS until he bites the dust? Things haven't been perfect but we're a hell of a lot better off now than before he took office."
"You're not but I think Hillary will do the best job after him."
"Either her or Bernie Sanders, if he can live long enough to get in the Oval. The dude's like a million years old. Anyone's better than Trump, though. How he's still a viable candidate is beyond me. He's managed to alienate everyone important and even his Party's sick of his ass."
"Racists always support their comrades until someone calls the cops and he's a loaded racist. He'll be around like a bad smell until after Election Day, even when he doesn't get the Republican nomination."
Olivia rolled her eyes at that before bringing the pan of double chocolate brownies to the island. She had on her favorite 'Table for Shut the Hell Up' apron over her nightgown, a nightgown that was actually one of his missing undershirts. When she stood on her pink knee sock covered tiptoes to reach the rum chata, Fitz spotted a pair of white boyshorts covered with bitten apples. The waistband of them read 'BITE ME' and he remembered laughing at them during their undercover mission. He also remembered the white camisole and the feel of her skin against his…
Fitz forced himself back into the present and sighed softly. He and Olivia were partners. They were best friends but there had always been an undercurrent of something deeper between them. After the undercover case, they had mutually decided to leave what happened between Howard and Marisa in the case file but had that been a mistake? Could they have taken their behavior, their very natural behavior as the Washingtons, and applied it to their real lives like everyone already assumed?
It wasn't just Mellie. It wasn't just Britta. It wasn't just Leo and Abby and Quinn and that jealous petty moron that was about to be eaten by grizzly bears. It was nearly everyone that he and Olivia interacted with.
If he had a bag of C-Notes for every time someone had mistaken her for his wife and himself for her husband, then he'd have retired a billionaire years ago.
Fuck, even his sperm donor could see it and gave his approval of the match. If he was so insistent on squandering his political capital, then at least he was doing it with someone so…well, Fitz had cut Big Jerry's salacious statement off with a sucker punch into a swimming pool before he could finish it but the endorsement was still there…
Gentle knuckles tapped on his temple and he pursed his lips against a laugh at the exaggerated curious expression on Olivia's face.
"Anybody in there?"
"The lights are on but no one's home."
"Hmph. I'd ask what you were thinking about but I don't think I want to know just yet. It's something heavy and I don't want you to kill my vibe."
"Why do you think it's something heavy?"
"When you think about heavy things, you frown and the middle part looks like a lowercase cursive 'm'. It's like when I pace in circles."
/
Something had to give.
Olivia wasn't stupid and she hadn't met Fitz yesterday.
The heavy thing that he was thinking about was her and them.
She had worn the boyshorts on purpose to see what his reaction would be.
She hadn't worn them since the next to last night of their undercover case, the Night.
She never forgot the taste and feel of his lips on hers.
She never forgot the furnace like warmth of his bare torso against hers.
She never forgot how the springy friction of his chest hair felt underneath her fingertips.
She never forgot the way he shuddered when her tongue found the defined grooves and planes of his abdomen…and ventured lower.
She never forgot the way his careful fingertips had felt against her pierced nipples, stroking and pinching them until she bucked and groaned.
She never forgot the searing silk of his tongue inside of her.
She never forgot the feeling of rightness, of safety and security in his strong arms.
They had agreed not to speak of the Night between them again, not to dwell on what had happened during those 18 days undercover.
They were partners and friends first.
It had been for the Case, to sell the cover.
Both of them had shared horror stories of previous relationships and just like it took 2 people to make a relationship work, it took 2 to make it all apart.
They had professional ambitions and the rules said…
They had chickened out.
She had chickened out.
She had seen what they could be, what they should be, and had shut it down out of fear.
And he let her do it because he was Fitz and he always understood her, even when she didn't.
Looking back, Olivia knew that if they had gone forward, she would've found a way to ruin them. That was what she did when emotions got too deep and heavy. She would shut down, she would deflect, and withdraw. By the time the man would notice, he'd decide that she wasn't worth the trouble anymore and end it.
The only amicable break up had been with Stephen and he saw it. Marcus Walker had seen it, as had Edison Davis. They all had wanted her heart. They weren't satisfied with just having her body and the bravado soaked cheerfulness. They wanted her ugly parts, her real self, and her heart. She couldn't give them what they wanted because…because she had already given everything to Fitz.
Typical…just fucking typical…when had her life become a rom-com and who could she shoot in the ass for making it happen?
She was in love with her partner.
She was in love with her best friend.
She had been in love with him for at least 5 years and the undercover case, the Night…she wanted more. She wanted the intimate bond that Marisa and Howard Washington had but as themselves, as Olivia Pope and Fitzgerald Grant III. She wanted…she wanted…
Removing the undershirt, she reached into the back of her underwear drawer and pulled out the white camisole.
It was time to stop running.
It was time to stop ignoring the elephant in the room.
/
"I'm not being…this isn't Marisa Washington. I know that these are her clothes and I know that…we…it wasn't just for the Case. The Night we had, the way that we interacted before it…that wasn't for the Case. That was…at least for me, it was honesty and real and everything that I ever wanted but thought I didn't deserve and I just…I got scared, okay? You know how I am with emotions and real feelings and I…if we had gotten together then, I would've destroyed us. I would've made the self fulfilling fuck up to end all of them and you…you didn't deserve that. We…I…Fitzgerald, I…I love you. I'm in love with you. I know that saying that is like saying the sky is blue to everyone else but…I ran away from it 5 years ago. You let me run away from it and you 5 years ago and…if you still want me, you can have me. I really hope that it's not too late because I gave you everything a long time ago. I gave you my heart a long time ago and I just needed to stop being a chickenshit and accept that. I'm sorry I took so long."
Fitz blinked once, twice and sat up. Olivia was looking at him like she was waiting for him to hit her and that just wouldn't do. He would never lay a malicious hand on his Livvie and they both knew it. In a mirror of his actions from their Night, he let his hands span her hips and quickly leveraged her into the bed underneath him. Her lips parted and he captured them, making her shiver. Her left hand went heavily to the nape of his neck and he twined their fingers together before bringing her hands to either one of her head.
"Fitz…"
"I love you, too."
"You do?"
"Yes."
Her face softened before she let out a hearty laugh, her real and uninhibited laugh.
"…we're quite the cliché, aren't we? So twee and pathetic…how many films and books have this sort of interaction? Hundreds? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands?"
He chuckled and rested her brow on hers before kissing her tenderly.
"Not all clichés are bad, Livvie and we are not pathetic."
"How can you say that?"
"I wasn't ready for us back then, either. I knew that I was in love with you by the third day of the Case and I knew that I wasn't ready. When you shut us down, I was hurt but more relieved than anything. I knew that I wasn't alone in my feelings and I was glad that you were brave enough to tell me the truth. We wouldn't have worked, Livvie. We would've tried our best before falling apart and ruining everything."
"We could still try our best, fall apart and ruin everything. I really don't want us to fall apart, Fitz. We're too important to fuck up but I don't want to half ass us, anymore. I just want…"
"I know what you want."
/
"Tell me about them."
Her current barbells were steel but the design looked as if they were made of stone and each end was shaped like a rose in full bloom.
"I, uh…well, it was a couple of weeks after my high school graduation. Y'know, the pre-Adult limbo period? A few of us got together for pizza and drank our poisons. Mine were 1800 and Crown Royal, which tasted good but interracial liquor and soundness of mind do not go together, especially when Truth or Dare is involved. I was sober enough and of age and I had the money so when I was dared to get inked or pierced, I said okay. There was an excellent tattoo parlor around the corner from the house we were in. They didn't think I'd do it. They were shocked that I even showed up to the party and when I started drinking, they nearly called the newspapers."
"You were that much of a good girl?"
"Yeah. All the crazy piss and vinegar you know me for didn't really kick in until I got to the Police Academy. Growing up, I was really shy and bookish. Everyone called me Mousie…"
He chuckled and she used his hair to raise his head so she could meet his sparkling eyes again.
" Don't you start calling me Mousie or I'll whoop your ass. I mean it."
He cocked a challenging brow and she chuckled, releasing his hair so he could kiss her clavicle.
"…so, you just did it?"
"Piercings were on sale. You could get 2 for the price of 1 and it wasn't like I was a stranger to it. I already had my navel butterfly by then so I went with a set of nipple barbells. They were surgical steel and decorated with white crystal encrusted skulls. I saw them and I couldn't resist. I was really into Goth..."
"I thought you were shy and bookish."
"I had lots of layers, e-especially on the weekends…"
Olivia moaned as Fitz's mouth became firm on her nipples, alternating between them with his mouth. She was astride him and he had a greedy double handful of her now bare bottom, massaging and squeezing. His bare skin felt absolutely amazing against hers and she gave a hearty mental prayer of thanks that he still liked to sleep in the nude. Pushing on his shoulders, Fitz willingly laid back and she started kissing a slow trail downwards. He hissed as she took a firm bite of the soft flesh near his ribs and she glanced up at him questioningly.
"Don't stop."
His skin still tasted salty-sweet and there was still a cluster of freckles on the left vee where his leg joined torso. Above that and close to his liver was a faint scar from a bullet in '08. They had been caught up in an ongoing Vice case and had ended up in the middle of a shootout at the shipping yards. Fitz had body checked her out of the line of fire and if he hadn't, the shot would've gone through her vest, hitting at least one vital organ. In response, Olivia had picked up a contraband shotgun and literally blown the madly laughing shooter's head off with no hesitation or regrets.
No one was allowed to hurt Fitz without dire consequences, not on her watch.
She pressed a wet kiss to the scar and he stroked her hair soothingly as she hugged him. She could've lost him that night. He could've died and then, they would've never become friends like they had, never become full lovers…
"I'm here, Livvie."
"…you'll stay with me?"
"As long as you want me to."
Immediately, the word forever came to mind but Olivia decided to wait on making that request.
She had much more pressing matters to attend to.
/
Being inside of her was like coming home.
Olivia was shuddering underneath him and her blunt nails raked thin red lines over his back as he lost himself in her, her sensual moans urging him on. Strong legs wrapped around him and Fitz rose up on his forearms, wanting to see and memorize everything. He knew that they were experiencing their first of many times but he still wanted to have a layered memory of it all. Her taste, her touch, her sounds, her open heart, everything about his Livvie was precious and needed to be cherished. His gaze kept moving from where they were joined to her swaying breasts and her eyes…oh god, her eyes. They were lustful but warm amber, filled with tenderness and raw pleasure, pleasure that she had allowed him to give her.
Feather light fingertips went to his neck and he met her halfway in a soft kiss, their rhythm slowing from a long hard thrust to a deep hard grind. Both of them were slick with sweat and he took a fistful of her hair as they sat up, face to face, pausing to catch their breaths. Her hand rested on his cheek and she was looking at him like she had never seen him before. It wasn't a fearful look but a curious one, like he was a brand new puzzle for her to figure out. In a way, he was. Olivia knew him as Detective Grant and she knew him as her best friend Fitz but she didn't know him as Fitz the man, Fitz the lover, Fitz the boyfriend, Fitz the fiancé/husband/father of her children (hopefully) yet.
He was looking forward to showing her. He was looking forward to learning about her, too.
After a while, she nodded and began to ride him with increasing urgency. Fitz pushed her so she was on her back and her mouth fell open in a soundless scream as he moved in her roughly, his need burning and pulsing through his veins like electricity. He needed to come in her, spill himself inside of her and give her every inch of him, every drop. He needed to feel her shake underneath him, feel her tighten and gush around him…
"Fitz-ger-ald!"
Burying his face in her neck, he followed her into bliss with a wordless shout.
/
Sunlight filtered through the blinds and Olivia smiled as gentle lips pressed against the nape of her neck.
She was the little spoon and she shifted closer, delighting in the feel of him. They were right where they belonged, safe in each other's arms and they had taken the next step together. Olivia had reached out to him and Fitz welcomed her with open arms. They had made love for the first time and it all just felt so right, so natural, so freeing…
Slowly, she turned onto her back so she could look up at him. Fitz remained on his side and used his fist to prop his head up. His cerulean slate eyes were shining with joy and his face was the picture of contentment. There were faint scratches on his biceps and the makings of a very impressive passion mark on his clavicle. His hair was a complete mess and his lips were still swollen from the kisses they had shared. Looking down, Olivia saw that the tangled blankets were mostly on her side and she spread them out so he could warm his feet. Fitz hated having his feet cold.
His lips pressed against hers gently and she accepted them, wincing as she tasted her own morning breath. Obviously, Fitz didn't care but she did. Plus, she knew that there was absolutely nothing cute about urine soaked bedding.
"I'll be right back."
"I'll be right here."
Why she had grabbed the flat sheet to cover her as she headed for her attached guest bathroom was a mystery. Fitz had seen her in all sorts of states of undress before. He had even seen her naked but…well, it was the context, she supposed. It was one thing for him to walk in on her changing her shirt or to be in the room as doctors tended to her healing wounds. It was a whole other animal for him to see her nude after they had made love.
After rinsing the last of the Listerine out of her mouth, she stepped into the threshold of the door. Fitz was sitting up and looking at her with shyness tempered with worry, as if…
Understanding dawned.
"I'm not running, Fitz. I want to be with you. I'm ready to be with you."
"Are you sure?"
"If I wasn't sure, then last night wouldn't have happened."
It was a simple statement but the effect on him was profound. She was treated to the rare sight of his full on smile and she couldn't help but smile back.
"Well, now that we've settled that…"
She plucked the knot she had put in the sheet and the makeshift nightgown slid to the floor.
"…I could use some help in the shower."
His radiant smile became an utterly salacious grin and impulsively, she chucked one of the accent pillows from the bed at him and bolted out of the guest suite giggling. Seconds later, Fitz's hand grasped her wrist and as if they were a pair of dancers, spun her around and picked her up in one fluid motion. She held onto him tightly.
She'd never let him go.