Hi everyone! So this is an AU. Fitz is a writer searching for new inspiration and Liv is an artist who just might be the breath of fresh air that Fitz needs. This popped in my head while I was trying to write the next chapter of An argument Forgotten, oh well. Hopefully I'll be able to update that one soon. Reviews are always welcome!

I don't own Scandal in any capacity!

Eight years. It had been eight long years to the day that his last book had been published. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III had written a number of books, nine to be exact, and all had been on the NY Times best seller list for several weeks and won numerous awards. He was considered one of the best authors of his time and most of his books had been deemed as modern classics. But there seemed to be nothing left in him. He seemed to have lost his creative fire. Every time he wrote anything now a day it was drab and lifeless. There was no spark and no fire like his previous books contained.

Writing had never been a struggle for him. He was always able to whip up a story and make it seem like a well written masterpiece. He was unbelievably gifted with a pen and yet he could come up with nothing. He would spend his days writing pages and pages and pages of material. Countless outlines, drafts, plots, and fictional characters later he still had nothing of substance to offer. For seven long years it had been like this and throughout those years he continuously searched for a muse. He had never needed one but his creative mind seemed to be out of sorts.

After trying, and failing miserably, to find some sort of lasting muse in the states, he decided it was time to travel and see the world. The goal was to taste new things, meet new people, and learn about different cultures first hand as well as learning about the different languages they spoke. He had gone through all of South America without so much as a new idea popping into his head, a good portion of Africa which lead to some new plot lines but nothing that was riveting enough to spark enough interest to write a book about, and now he was in Europe making his way around. England, France, Italy, and now he was in Spain in a little café on the outskirts of the city of Barcelona. He had only been in Spain for a day and was planning on spending a good deal of time in this beautiful city. He had always loved the architecture, the spirit of the people, the art, and the literature that came from here so he figured this would be the place to hopefully fuel his fire.

Sitting at a table outside of the café, he waited. The sun was beaming, it was early morning and many people were out on the street. He watched as cars flew by, the bikers weave in and out of people and cars, the pedestrians walking to their destinations, the birds flying around, and smelled the wafting aroma of Spanish coffee that filled the air.

What was he waiting for? He didn't know. But something in him, deep inside of him, told him to wait for a while. To sit there and take in everything that was going on.

"This is Olivia Pope." She said slightly groggy and annoyed as she answered her phone. It was 9 a.m. and she had been receiving phone calls non-stop for the past two days. Olivia Pope was one of the most famous artists of the 21st century. At the age of 33 she had been deemed the modern day Rembrandt with her etchings and paintings depicting the realities of today's iconic events. Her most recent works were portraits of some of the most iconic figures in society today. She had done the portraits of former presidents, noble prize winners, and world leaders. She did a mini showing less than 72 hours ago in Barcelona and was constantly getting calls from possible buyers.

"Hey, Liv! I hear you were a big hit at your showing. How many outrageous offers have you gotten in that last two days?" It was Harrison. Harrison Wright was her right hand man and best friend. They had known each other for years as they grew up in the same town in Boston and attended the same prep schools.

"Thirteen. I have had thirteen ridiculous offers that were somewhere in the ballpark of eight figures. I don't understand why people want to pay so much for my art. I didn't get into this for the money. I love art and it makes me so happy to paint and draw and get dirty playing with colors and massive canvases." Olivia knew she was a brilliant artist and never had an issue showing off her talents but she never wanted to do this for the money. She was born into wealth and had never wanted for anything, her parents made sure of that. She and her little sister Frankie were not spoiled in the least; they learned the value of a dollar at a very young age working and helping their parents, who were both lawyers and owned their own family practice, during the summer as assistants. She didn't need the money. She was well off on her own, selling paintings early on in her illustrious career and saving as much of it as possible, only splurging on her beautiful two story loft apartment. The thought of selling her art really tugged at her soul and she hated to part with most of it but she did what she had to do, selling some but keeping a bulk of it. Most of her art stayed in galleries throughout Europe but her favorite pieces were on display in her loft that she purchased right outside of the city.

"Liv, you know you don't have to sell you work, although I don't understand why you won't. There is nothing wrong with making extra money. You could keep a portion and donate a huge chunk of it to your favorite galleries."

"Yeah, you're right I could." She said with a slight sigh. "So, Harrison," She said quickly, wanting to change the topic. "What have you been up to besides stalking my career?" She said with a slight giggle.

"Ha-ha. Well I'm actually at the airport heading to Barcelona to see my best friend who is celebrating her 34th birthday in a few weeks. I figure this is just as good a time as any to take an extended vacation."

Olivia squealed in excitement at the news of her best friend coming to see her. It had been almost a year since they had seen each other but they had Skype dates regularly.

"I can't believe you're finally coming to my side of the world! What time do you get in?" She said. Excitement pouring from her voice.

"Well considering I just Landed in London about 15 minutes ago and the flight to Spain is only about two hours…"

"You're already in London? I'm gonna kick your ass, Harrison. Why in the hell didn't you tell me you were coming sooner?" Harrison could tell that she wasn't really upset with him so he ignored her question and continued.

"I'll be there by 1 p.m. so get your ass up because I know you're still in bed. Get dressed, go grab some coffee and come to the airport and pick up your favorite person in the world. I gotta go but I'll call you when I land. Love you!" The line went dead.

"Ugh! He did not just hang up on me?" she said to herself.

Tossing her phone on the other side of her bed she threw back the comforter and slid out of bed. Walking into her bathroom, she turned on the shower and hopped in. After a fairly quick shower and shave she finished her morning routine and slid into a pair of jeans, threw on a loose fitting grey t-shirt and slid into a pair sued pumps to complete her casual look. Pulling her natural curls into a high bun and putting in her favorite diamond studs, she grabbed her keys and a few bucks from her purse, put on her favorite pair of sunglasses and made her way down the street to her favorite café.

It was now 10:30 and Fitz had been sitting at the café for about an hour and a half and nothing had sparked his interest. He was enjoying himself despite not actually doing anything. He decided to grab a morning paper that was in English and ordered a coffee while he waited for whatever he felt coming to make it's presence known. He liked the slight hustle and bustle of the streets and the wonderful interactions of the people. The city was breathtaking and all of the people were alive with passion and a will to live. He loved it. There were couples young anf old roaming around hand in hand talking, there were children playing in the park, there were street artist performing on the corner, there was life! Fitz felt strangely at home in this new place but he didn't mind.

Sitting back in his chair, he took a sip of his coffee as he gazed up the street. Only after a moment of thoughtless gazes did he catch sight of something. No, not something, someone. Removing the sunglasses he was wearing, he narrowed his eyes some so that he could make out the features of the beautiful creature walking towards the café. He didn't know why but something about her, the way she walked and carried herself made him excited. She was dressed casually and had her hair in a bun, he couldn't make out her facial features but her aura was drawing him to her. She seemed like a breath of fresh air. Something he needed, something completely new.

As she got closer he could make out her small stature and frame but he also took notice of the sway of her hips. She was texting furiously on her cell phone but was completely aware of everything going on around her. She smiled and waved to some of the older couples that walked by and even bent down to talk to a homeless guy who was sitting on the side of the street. She stayed there for a moment and then slipped some money into his hand. She smiled at him and then walked away. Who was this woman?

The closer she got, the more intrigued he became. She was less than five feet away from him and the proximity made his hands sweat with anticipation. He was actually nervous about the possibility of meeting this woman. That is if he could compose an actual sentence. What could he really do? He didn't want to seem like an idiot and just randomly say "Hi" because he would look ridiculous, right? But that's all he had. There was nothing more he could think of to do but he needed to get her attention and ask her name.

She was less than two feet away and he still didn't have a concrete plan of action. She was so close and he could feel his heart race with anticipation. Just the thought of …

"What am I doing?" He said to himself. Something in him, his logical side knew that she wasn't single. He knew it was too good to be true. She was meeting her boyfriend and they were going to have a coffee date. He should have known that a creature that beautiful could be single and even if she was, why would she fall for a man that was obviously much older than she. He didn't have a chance. Letting out a disappointed sigh he picked up his now crumpled looking newspaper and flipped it to the fine arts section hoping to read about a new art exhibit or gain information on a new book he could read to take his mind off of the beautiful woman heading his way.

Opening the newspaper, he almost choked on his coffee.

"It's her!" He said with a gasp. There she was, her picture plastered right underneath the headlines. She was wearing a white strapless gown that fit her like a glove and left almost nothing to the imagination. She was at an art gallery. He read through the headlines trying to find her name. Why hadn't her name been the first thing he saw? He needed her name.

"What's her name? Come on, come on, come… Wait." He said as he finally came across it. The name of the beautiful creature that he did not know but was determined to meet. "Olivia, Olivia Pope." He said somewhat breathlessly. Her name was like song that he would never get tired of. He gazed at the picture as if to burn the image into his memory. Her eyes were beautiful and her skin seemed to be utterly flawless, almost like the creamiest of milk chocolate. She looked like an angle in white and he wanted nothing more than to worship the ground she walked on. Why did she have this effect on him? Why was he so drawn to a woman he'd never met?

Fitz continued to stare at the picture until he heard the sound of something hitting the ground. He bent down in his seat and picked up the foreign set of keys that had fallen next to his foot and looked up at and met the eyes of the owner of those keys.

"Hi." Was all that Liv could muster when she locked eyes with the beautiful stranger sitting before her. She seemed to stop breathing at the sight of him. His eyes were grey-ish blue and she felt like they were boring into her soul. Something about him, something about the way he looked at her, the spark in his eye, tilted her completely off of her axis.

"Hi." Was the response she got. His voice was like velvet and made her stomach do flips. She took a deep breath in order to try and gain composure but that was a mistake. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. The smell of his natural musk mixed with the scent of the cologne that wafted into her nostrils made her whole body shiver.

"Are these your keys? It's Olivia, right?" He was standing now, towering over her. She wanted to respond but her brain seemed to stop. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was getting light headed.

Fitz could see that she was somewhat flustered and offered a sincere smile. This smile, the smallest of gestures, broke her out of her state of apparent shock and she could breathe again. Something about his smile gave her a jolt of energy, a shock to her system. She smiled back, a smile that had Fitz's knees going weak and finally spoke.

"Umm. Yes. Olivia. How did you…?"

"I was reading this morning's paper and I happened to turn to the fine arts section and there you were. I'd remember you anywhere." He said slightly taken off guard at the words that escaped his mouth. Olivia blushed at the comment.

"So, you know my name but I have yet to learn of yours." She said playfully.

"Oh, excuse my manners. My name is Fitzgerald Grant, but everyone calls me Fitz."

"Well Fitz, wait Fitzgerald Grant? I know that name. You're a writer aren't you?" She said looking at him questioningly.

"Why yes, I am. You've heard of me?"

"Yes! I love your book Something My Eyes Once Told Me. I've read it numerous times. It's simply brilliant." She said enthusiastically.

He was slightly taken aback. He had not expected her to say she was a fan of his books. And if she was, why that one? It was not one of his best sellers, in fact it was rated horribly but it was one of his favorite books also. The book was train of thought and had no real plot. It was how he saw things throughout the day. He'd written the book as an experiment and loved it. But why did she?

"Really? I've never gotten that before. I mean people know my work but that book is one that most have written off."

"I know. That's why I love it so much." She said with a somewhat shy smile. Now, now he was deeply intrigued.

"Miss Pope I would love to pick your brain about my book if you have a moment." He was hoping she would say yes. He needed to understand her better. He yearned to know her better.

Olivia looked at her phone and gasped. "Oh shit! Sorry. No I can't." She said in a slight panic. Fitz was taken aback and slightly confused as she spoke.

"I would love to stay but I need to run to the airport and pick up a friend. I'm already running late and he should be landing soon." Fitz shook his head in understanding and smiled a slightly defeated smile. Olivia took notice of this and reached for the pin that was in his shirt pocket. Ripping off a piece of newspaper she jotted down her number and stuffed the pin and piece of paper back in the pocket.

"Call me later and maybe we can grab a bite to eat and discuss your book and whatever else you want." She said as she turned to walk away.

"I will." Fitz said slightly surprised by her actions. Surprised, but extremely happy.

"Oh, and call me Liv. Everyone calls me Liv." She said as she turned back to get one more look at him. Giving him the once over she smiled and then bit her lip in hopeful excitement.

She hoped that he would call. She was excited for what could happen.

Ok guys! How was it? I really like the idea of Liv being a free spirit but she has a lot of layers to her that I cannot wait to delve into! Fitz is s sweet guy but for some reason lacks self confidence when it comes to Liv. Or is it all women? We'll have to wait and see! Let me know what you think!