Author's Note: Once again, thank you so so much to all who read and reviewed. I really do appreciate the feedback and thank you from the bottom of my heart. Things are starting to get hectic (college orientation week is here, wish me luck! I'll certainly need it haha), but I am going to try to post as frequently as possible.
Quick Update: Evening Delights part 3 is still a work in progress, but it is coming, and I also wanted to point out that the rating has been changed to M and will be from this point onward.
I hope you enjoy, and, as always, criticism, suggestions and requests are always welcomed.
Because good things do happen unexpectedly.
xxx
"Alright guys, so for the weekend I want you to-"
Fitz was cut off by the bell, his students starting to rush out of the room before he could even yell after them.
"See you on Monday, Mr. Grant!"
"Yeah, yeah." He waved them out, leaning back in his seat.
He listened to the sound of feet shuffling - a sea of penny loafers dragging against the floor - and lockers hastily being shut. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rid them of the week's exhaustion. He hadn't realized how tired he was, and he suddenly found himself sharing sentiments with his students; he couldn't wait to get home. He had a big weekend of nothing planned and the idea sounded more appealing by the second.
He'd just wait until the halls cleared out and then –
He looked up at a knock on his door.
His eyebrows rose at the sight of the head of the French department.
"Dominic, what can I do for you?"
Dominic walked inside and sat in a desk in the front row. He folded his hands and leaned forward, a smile laden with hidden motives stretched across his face.
"How have you been, Fitz?" He spoke, his accent laced throughout his words.
"I've been well, Dominic. But I assume you're not here to exchange pleasantries, so what can I do for you?"
Dominic chuckled, leaning back in his seat.
"Always so quick to get to the point."
They sat in silence, and Fitz looked at him expectantly.
"Well, I guess I should get right to it." He tapped his fingers on the desk and looked away. "Maya and I, we…need a favor."
Fitz shifted in his seat, glaring at the man's profile.
"What kind of a favor?"
Dominic turned to face him, his hands wringing together. "Something came up and we're going to be out of town for the weekend, but her daughter is coming. She was out of the states for a while and is going to stay with us while she gets settled – at least we think she is. She's a bit of a wild card, she has a tendency to drift…" He trailed off. "We just need someone to pick her up from the airport."
"Which is where I come in?"
"Exactly."
Fitz looked down at his desk, pretending to look over the papers scattered across it.
"And your wife doesn't think that I'm too unqualified for that?"
Dominic rolled his eyes. "How long are you going to keep this up? Come on, you know that's not what she meant."
"No, Dominic, that's exactly what she meant when she petitioned to have me removed from the head of the History department."
The topic was still a sore spot. It had been nearly three months since Maya Lewis-Bell had been promoted to the school's interim principle after a particularly hasty departure by the position's former holder, Marion Walden. Rumor had it that she had been impregnated by her brother-in-law and longtime lover, and the two had fled to the mid-west. The last he had heard, her husband was hounding teachers she was known to associate with about her possible whereabouts.
The sudden vacancy sparked meetings that ultimately led to Maya's appointment. Not only was she one of the most astute and experienced teachers at the ever-renowned Avery Academy, but she also was only teaching two select senior courses - which made her perfect for such a demanding position.
Though she had only been appointed on a temporary basis, Maya took it upon herself to make what she viewed as "necessary changes". Unfortunately, one such change was the removal of Fitz as the head of the History department. He had only held the position for the past two years, and he appreciated the respect it garnered him among his colleagues. Sure, he had been a little distracted lately – he had buried his mother and finalized his divorce in the past year alone – but he had earned that position.
Apparently, not everyone thought so. The vote was not in his favor, and he was thenceforth removed – only to be replaced by someone who was three years his junior and not nearly as qualified.
He had once considered Dominic a friend – or at least one of his closest colleagues. They played poker together and invited one another over for dinner on several occasions. But he had barely acknowledged him – or his wife – since the incident.
He had been in a bad mood ever since. He noticed the way his coworkers watched him when they thought he wasn't looking – the way they whispered and raised their eyebrows. He had never in life felt so underappreciated, so disrespected…
"Look, I don't know how many times you want me to say sorry, but she thought that it was in your best interest –"
"Not my best interest, Dominic, hers."
"That's not true and you know it. You've had a lot on your plate lately and she was trying to help."
"Whether or not I need help is none of her business."
"Ok, fine. How about, you were failing to live up to your responsibilities and you needed to take a step back."
Fitz had half the mind to throw him out, but he was aware of the students still lingering in the hallways and decided to at least try to be civil. He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples.
"Look, Fitz, I didn't mean that. It's just –"
"What time does her flight get in?"
Fitz opened his eyes just in time to see Dominic's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.
"What?"
"Her daughter. What time does she get in?"
Dominic's features softened, a mix of disbelief and gratitude lighting up his face.
"Uh, tomorrow evening, six-thirty."
"Dulles?"
"Yes."
"Ok." Fitz finished placing papers in folders before putting them in his bag.
"Ok?"
Fitz stood, walking over to the door with his bag hanging on his shoulder.
"I'll be there."
Standing in the middle of the airport, Fitz wondered why he had said yes. He assured himself that it was because he needed to get Dominic out of his classroom without causing a scene.
He glanced at his phone, looking over the picture Dominic had sent to help him recognize Maya's daughter. According to Dominic, the picture was a few years old - as was made obvious by his and Maya's appearances. They stood next to each other, wide smiles gracing their faces, while attached to Maya's left side was her mini-me.
She was cute. She looked as though she couldn't have been older than fourteen when the picture was taken. Thick glasses framed her face and her hair was pulled up in a curly bun. Whereas Maya and Dominic seemed to fit together naturally, she stood – almost awkwardly – to the side, like she didn't entirely belong. The smile on her face seemed much more forced than that of her mother.
Dominic hadn't mentioned what he and Maya were going to be doing for the weekend, but he suddenly thought it odd that they weren't making it more of a priority to see her daughter, given that they so rarely did.
He thought it over for a moment before deciding that it was none of his business. He was there to do them a favor and then return home to his couch and perhaps a date with the Food Network.
He started to look around again when a particularly large group began to move from the baggage claim area. He quickly glanced at and dismissed a handful of faces before he was distracted by the sound of a suitcase colliding heavily with the floor. He looked to his right to see a woman examining her suitcase. She bent over and retrieved what looked like one of its wheels. He watched her shoulders sag as she looked over the broken piece. Completely oblivious to his gaze, she laughed to herself and shook her head.
The sight filled him with unnatural endearment and he couldn't help but observe her. She leaned her suitcase against her leg and placed the broken wheel on top of it. Her hands moved seamlessly to undo and redo the bun sitting atop her head, catching the loose coils and curls that had fallen out during her flight. She shoved the wheel in the pocket of her sweatpants and pushed down the handle of her suitcase before picking it up. She began walking again, her gaze starting to scan the entire area.
Suddenly it dawned on him.
He quickly looked down at the picture and back up at her.
Wow.
She had certainly grown up. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes taking in her features. It wasn't until a minute had passed that he remembered that she was Maya's daughter, and, while she was legal, she was too young for him to be thinking of her the way he was.
Get it together, Fitz.
He started to approach her, then stopped, suddenly realizing that he didn't even know her name. He glanced at his phone remembering that Dominic had attached a message to the picture:
Her flight is scheduled to come it at 6:30. She'll meet you just outside the baggage claim. Her name is Olivia.
He continued to make his way over to her. She looked up when he was a few feet away, and their eyes met.
His breath hitched.
He was overcome by an unexpected rush of affection. Lost in dark, doe eyes, he was enveloped in a warmth he hadn't felt in so long – a comforting blend of heat and tranquility he had once associated with summer nights spent on the porch with his mother.
When she suddenly took a step back, he realized he must have looked ridiculous.
"Hi?"
"Oh, hi. I'm sorry." He noticed that his palms were sweaty and rubbed his hand on his pants before holding it out. "I'm Fitz."
She shook his hand, wary confusion settling on her face.
"Olivia. Can I help you?"
"Oh, I – uh." The handshake ended awkwardly when his hand suddenly retreated. He cleared his throat. "I'm one of Dominic's coworkers. He asked me to pick you up."
She raised her eyebrows.
Confused by her reaction, he asked, "Didn't he tell you?"
"No, I thought – I mean, I assumed that my mother was going to meet me here."
"Something came up, but they should be back by Monday."
"Oh, ok." She looked away for a moment before returning her gaze to him. "Uh, Fitz you said?"
He nodded.
"Would you mind helping me out with this?" She gestured to her suitcase. "A wheel just popped off and it's a little heavy…"
"Oh yeah, sure." He grabbed it before she could finish speaking.
She smiled appreciatively. They remained in place for a long moment before he cleared his throat.
"They said there's a storm coming tonight. I better get you home before then." He started walking towards the exit.
She followed behind. He could feel her eyes on him and desperately tried to ignore the way it made his heart race.
"Rain on my first night? Must mean good luck."
He chuckled at her optimism. They walked the rest of the way to his car in silence. He was grateful, as it gave him the opportunity to shake himself of the haze that had fallen over him.
"So, Fitz, what do you teach?"
"Huh?"
He had been driving for just over fifteen minutes, and they had yet to start up a conversation. After he had loaded her suitcase into his car, they were on their way, only the sounds of his Frank Sinatra CDs filling the silence.
"You said you were a coworker of Dominic's, which I guess makes you one of my mother's, too, so what do you teach?"
He glanced at her for a second. "History."
He could see her nodding from the corner of his eye.
"Are you one of those fun teachers? Or are you the type to read from the book and bore everyone to death?"
He knew that she didn't mean any harm; he could hear the jest in her voice, but as had happened so often during the past few weeks, when it came to his job, his pride quickly got the best of him.
"I give them the material I'm required to." His tone was clipped. "Whether they pass or fail is up to them – it's not a reflection of my abilities."
She was silent for a long time, and he could feel her gaze on him. He immediately felt bad for having reacted the way he did.
"Look, I'm sorry –"
"That's bullshit."
"Excuse me?"
He eased to a stop at a red light and looked at her.
"Whether they pass or fail is a reflection of your abilities. Sometimes just giving them the material isn't enough."
He felt a sudden anger rise in him.
Who the hell did she think she was?
"Oh and I suppose that you're the expert on this matter because, what? You spent the last few months running around Europe spending someone else's money? Taking time to find yourself or some other crap like that?"
She laughed humorlessly. "You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Fitzpatrick."
"It's Fitzgerald."
She hummed dismissively and looked straight ahead.
"Light's green."
They rode in tense silence, a fierce indignation lingering in the air. He unintentionally glanced her way a few times. Her arms were crossed and she had shifted in her seat so that she was closer to the passenger door.
Minutes later, he stopped at another red light and turned to her.
"Look," he spoke, feeling much less defensive than he had before, "I'm sorry. I had no right to say those things. I know almost nothing about you and it wasn't right for me to judge or make assumptions."
She looked out the window, leaving him with a sense of defeat.
A long moment passed before she turned to him.
"For starters, my name is Olivia Pope, I'm twenty-three, and I just got back from teaching in the Solomon Islands. There was no spending other people's money and no backpacking across Europe."
He could tell that the surprise was written across his face.
Only when a loud car horn blared from behind him did he turn away from her.
"That's why I asked you about your teaching," she continued. "No malicious intent, I promise. I'm sorry if I offended you."
He felt like a jackass – a complete and utter jackass.
"I'm sorry, Olivia, really." He turned on his windshield wipers as the rain started to pick up. "It's just that things have been kind of hectic and I haven't been doing my best at work lately. It's just not something I like to talk about." He didn't exactly know why he had shared so much. He knew he could have stuck with a simple apology, given that he would probably never see her again after dropping her off, but, for whatever reason, he felt like she deserved more than that.
They both jumped at a sudden clap of thunder.
"I accept your apology," she finally spoke. "And, you know, everyone gets a little overwhelmed. Sometimes you just have to take a step back, maybe talk to someone about it."
Touched by the unexpected concern in her voice, he nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."
He pulled up to Maya and Dominic's home less than fifteen minutes later. By then, the weather had worsened considerably. He had switched to the news on his car radio to hear warnings of severe weather and flash floods, and he was growing increasingly nervous at the prospect of even getting home that night.
Olivia ushered him inside after having used the key hidden behind the mailbox. He braced himself against the rain and quickly ran in, leaning her suitcase against a wall.
"Thank you so much, Fitz." She closed the door immediately after him, turning and leaning against it.
They were both soaked, and he couldn't help but notice the way her tank top stuck to her. He quickly shook his head at the thought and watched as she re-did her bun for the second time that day.
There was a flash of lightening followed by an immediate burst of thunder, and she shivered.
"Maybe you should stay here for a while and try to wait it out."
Even if he wanted to decline, the sound of the rain picking up told him that there was no way he was going anywhere any time soon.
"Sounds like a plan."
She nodded and walked further into the house. She stopped and removed her shoes, placing them on the mat in front of the door to let them dry. He did the same and watched as her eyes began to scan the walls, as if seeing them for the first time. She walked into the living room, moving toward the pictures over the fireplace. She took her time looking over each one, and he found himself gravitating toward her. He glanced over the pictures, noticing that she wasn't in a single one.
"She's always smiling around him," she commented, picking up one of the frames. "I'm glad he makes her happy."
He noted the longing in her voice.
Just as he was going to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, she placed the picture back in its place and turned around to face him.
"We should get changed so we don't get sick. Dominic probably has some clothes you can wear…" She walked to the bottom of the stairs. "I'll be back."
Several minutes passed before she came back downstairs, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt in her hands.
"Here, these look like they'll fit you." She looked him over, and he noticed the appraisal in her eyes as they seemed to linger for a moment too long.
He cleared his throat and she immediately looked back up. Her eyes met his for a split second before she was looking elsewhere, shifting her balance onto her left foot.
"Do you – uh – know where the bathroom is?"
He smirked at her sudden bashfulness.
"Yeah, thanks." He accepted the clothes and started to walk away.
"There should be some towels in the cabinets. I think…" She called after him.
He turned, giving her an appreciative smile.
Just as she had said, there were towels in the cabinets. He quickly stripped himself of his wet clothes and dried off before throwing on the clothes she had given him. The shirt clung to him a little more than he would have liked, but that was a given, considering that he and Dominic weren't exactly the same size. He walked out of the bathroom minutes later and returned to where he had left Olivia. He noticed that both she and her suitcase were gone and assumed that she had gone to change.
Left to his own devices, he began to walk around again. He took in little changes they had made since his last visit – a new vase here, a few throw pillows there - but what now stood out most were the pictures scattered throughout the house. As far as he could tell, they hadn't been changed – at least in the few years he had known the couple. Many were of them cuddled together in various locations they had visited. There were a few of whom he remembered Dominic had pointed out as his nieces, and even a few with colleagues. But he didn't see a single one of Olivia. Not one lined the walls, or sat on the coffee table or rested over the fireplace.
He wondered why that was.
As he finished the rounds, he heard her coming down the stairs. He met her at the bottom step and took in the sight of her in a t-shirt and rolled-up gym shorts that looked too big to be hers. He felt an irrational pang of jealousy at the thought of who they could have previously belonged to.
She looked him over and smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, that was the biggest shirt I could find."
He shook his head. "It's alright. Thanks."
She nodded. "I'm about to put my clothes in the wash. Do you want me to throw yours in too?"
He thought it over, taking into consideration that he'd probably be there for a while.
"Yeah, if you don't mind."
She took his clothes and the towel from him and began to walk off in one direction, then stopped, seeming to think. He watched her look around before realizing what the problem was.
"I think the laundry room is this way." He started walking in the other direction, and she followed.
"It's funny," she laughed from behind him, "I don't even know where half the things are in my own mother's house." Although she spoke jokingly, he could hear the sadness in her voice. "I guess it's because I've only been here once or twice since they moved in."
His eyebrows rose. He knew that Maya and Dominic had lived in this house for at least ten years.
Neither said anything as they walked into the laundry room. He watched as she put the clothes in and filled the cap with detergent.
She turned to him, "Do you mind if I use fabric softener?"
He thought the question odd and gave a slight chuckle in response. "No, it's ok. The softer the better."
She giggled and shook her head. "It's just that I haven't gotten to use it in a while, but I know that some people are picky when it comes to their laundry so…"
He held up his hands. "No preference here."
They shared a laugh and she closed the washing machine, pressing a few buttons to start the load. He considered what she said and suddenly remembered their conversation in the car.
"So the Solomon Islands," he began as she led the way out of the laundry room, "How was it? What brought you there?"
She stopped walking and turned to look at him; a bright smile spread across her face, and his stomach flipped.
"I was working on my senior thesis – it had to do with different schooling experiences and their effects on the student's growth – and I came across this piece about the Solomon Islands. It reminded me of when I was in high school. Every few months they'd have a presentation and ask us to donate to this or that cause and one of the projects was aimed at getting resources for some of the schools over there. I ended up making a few phone calls and speaking to the program's director. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I was graduating and heading over there."
He watched the way her eyes lit up as she talked, and it stirred an excitement deep within him.
"It was the most amazing experience." She walked them to the living room, sitting down on the couch and urging him to do the same. "A group of us went over together. At first, we spent a lot of time observing and helping to get the classrooms together. Then, we each started teaching certain lessons. The kids were all so sweet and so eager, and they always kicked my ass in soccer," she chuckled. "There was just something so incredible about feeling like I was part of that community. I know it's cliché to say, but they gave me way more than I could ever give them."
"That sounds…amazing." He was impressed by her ambition. Her eagerness reminded him of what he was like when he had first started teaching. It had been so long since he had felt that way…
"What about you, Mr. History Teacher?"
He chuckled dismissively and looked away, not sure if he was ready to broach that topic again. "What about me?"
"Any post-college, pre-Avery experiences? Did you travel Europe spending someone else's money?"
His cheeks heated up and he shook his head with a laugh. "No, no just a few unpleasant substitute jobs." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Yeah, I got offered the job at Avery pretty quickly. I figured it was a great opportunity, couldn't really do better than that."
She stared at him for a moment, then looked down, playing with the hem of her shirt.
"What?"
She looked up. "It's just –" she stopped and shook her head. "It's nothing."
"That's bullshit," he mimicked from their earlier conversation, making his voice higher to imitate hers.
She laughed hard, throwing her head back. "Alright, I'll give you that one."
He joined her in laughing.
"So," he started after they had calmed, "does that mean you're going to tell me what you were thinking about?"
She shifted so that she was facing him.
"Why are you still there?"
He looked at her questioningly. "Where?"
"Avery. You said yourself that you were having a tough time and you just don't seem happy being there…"
"Oh." He looked away from her. He wasn't sure how to respond. He knew that he had made his displeasure obvious, but he hadn't expected her to directly address it. He had yet to truly address it with himself. He cleared his throat. "It's one of the top private schools in the country, the pay is good –"
"But is that really why you wanted to teach?"
He stared at her. He was very quickly becoming unnerved by her candor.
"I had this teacher my junior year of high school," he started before he could stop himself. "That was the year after my father had left and my mom was in a bad place. I didn't have too much support at home. Mr. Reynolds – that was his name – he was the closest thing I had to a mentor. He'd always make sure I made the grades and even invited me over for dinner a few times. He's the reason I even got into college. I knew the second I got accepted that I wanted to do that for someone else."
He had never told anyone that before. It had been so long since he had taught with that in mind that he nearly forgot about it, himself.
He was suddenly overcome with the feeling of shame.
He looked down at his hands. "I just don't feel like I've done that. I've been teaching for nearly a decade, and I don't feel like I've helped anyone the way he helped me. I'm thirty-seven and all I have to show for my life is a failed marriage and a nice condo. The only thing I really had going for me was being the head of the History department, but I can't even claim that anymore."
He felt her move closer, and, soon, her hand was on his arm.
"If it's any consolation, you look way younger than thirty-seven."
He chuckled sadly and looked up at her. She smiled softly as his gaze met hers and brought her hands down to hold his.
"Do you want to know what I think?" She asked after a moment.
Moved by something a little stronger than curiosity, he nodded.
"I think that you've had more of an impact than you think. But…" she trailed off, seeming to consider her next words. "You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself."
Ok, not exactly what he expected.
His eyebrows rose.
She breathed out a laugh. "You said it yourself, you're not satisfied with what you've done in life. Sitting around and sulking isn't going to change that. Try connecting with your students more, rework your lesson plans, take up a hobby – do something different. Although it may feel like it, you aren't stuck in cement. You have the freedom to do with your life whatever you want."
He stared at her.
"What?"
"Are you sure you're twenty-three? Because you're way more insightful than I was at that age…"
She smirked. "It's a known fact that girls mature faster."
He chuckled and shook his head. "You are right, though. I do need to stop feeling sorry for myself."
Now that he had said it out loud, it seemed so simple. He had spent months wallowing in self-pity, lamenting over his misfortunes. He had always been a believer in controlling his own destiny, yet here he was, letting life knock him on his ass.
"You know," he spoke, "A few years ago, I wanted to get my master's in education. I wanted to move up, maybe work on an administrative level, but my mom got sick and my marriage was starting to fall apart, and it just didn't seem possible."
"But now?" She asked.
"Now… it feels like something I could do – something I really want to do."
He unconsciously shifted back, causing her grip on his hands to loosen. He had known this woman for less than a few hours, and she was unearthing some of his deepest revelations – truths he hadn't even come to terms with.
He needed space.
The look on her face as he settled with nearly a foot of space between them made him feel differently. She looked disappointed – hurt at the loss of contact. The sight pained him and made his heart sink down to his stomach.
"I'm sorry." He stood abruptly, needing more distance to get his thoughts together. "It's just that I haven't thought of that in a long time, and it's a little -"
"Overwhelming." she finished for him.
He ran a hand over his face.
He hadn't considered going back to school in so long. The thought had been buried somewhere deep in his subconscious, and she had just come along and so easily brought it to the surface, made it seem plausible…
He could actually do it. He wanted to do it, more than anything else.
"Fitz," she called out, pulling him from his thoughts. "I didn't mean to upset you, but if it's something you really want to do, maybe it's a sign. Maybe that's your something different."
Was that really his next step? Going back to school at thirty-seven?
Looking back down at her, a foreign excitement surged through his veins. She was encouraging him to follow his dormant dreams the way he had always wished his wife would, the way his mother would have.
Was he foolish for considering her with such seriousness?
He couldn't help but wonder if he was affected by her youthful naiveté. But, taking her in, he knew that there was nothing naïve about her insight. She had a natural maturity that came only with experience.
He sat down next to her, closer than he had been before. "I'm going to seriously consider it," he finally spoke. Overcome with gratitude and a strong sense of affection, he placed a hand on her cheek. "Thank you, Olivia."
She smiled warmly. "Don't mention it."
His heart swelled, and, before he knew what was happening, he was leaning in. He stopped just as his lips ghosted over hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was wrong – he barely knew her, she was Maya's daughter, Dominic's stepdaughter…
As she finally leaned in ever so slightly, his only thoughts were those of how soft her lips were, how amazing they felt against his.
It was over quickly – too quickly – as they both pulled back, their eyes slightly wide and disbelieving.
"I'm sorry –"
"I shouldn't have –"
They both laughed, a nervous energy settling around them.
His heart was hammering in his chest and his lips were ablaze with yearning. He rubbed his hands on his sweatpants and quickly clenched and unclenched his fists, hoping to calm himself down.
There was an obvious attraction between them, but the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.
A particularly loud boom of thunder sounded, bursting through the thick air in the room.
She cleared her throat. "We're lucky we haven't lost power."
"Yeah, it's pretty bad out there."
He stopped himself from mentioning that he'd probably be there for a few more hours.
They sat in silence before she suddenly clasped her hands together.
"I should probably go put our clothes in the dryer."
She stood and walked out of the room. By the time she returned, the tension between them had dispersed.
"Maybe we can watch a movie or something, to pass the time," she suggested as she rejoined him on the couch.
He nodded and leaned forward, grabbing the remote from the coffee table.
"Any requests?" He asked after he had pulled up the movie selection.
"Anything but that Nicholas Sparks movie – the one with the rodeo guy. They played it on a loop the entire plane ride. I can probably recite the entire thing from memory." She groaned dramatically.
He chuckled. "I remember a few girls in one of my classes talking about it. They seemed to think it was the greatest film since Citizen Kane."
Laughing, she rolled her eyes.
He continued to scroll until she suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Wait! Let's watch that."
His eyes narrowed. "…Cinderella?"
"Live action Cinderella." She corrected.
He laughed with a shake of his head.
"And here I thought we had ruled out chick-flicks."
He could feel her glaring at his profile.
"It's a fairytale, for starters, and we only ruled out one movie."
He sighed dramatically. "And why should we watch it?"
"Because you were being grumpy earlier, so I should get to choose – by default." She stuck out her tongue and he couldn't help the loud laugh that escaped him.
"I guess you make a fair argument."
She smiled in triumph as he put the movie on.
Minutes passed and they both settled into the couch, unconsciously moving toward one another. His attention span didn't allow him to watch longer than the first twenty minutes, and he turned to look at her. He was admittedly surprised by how rapt she was with the movie.
As if reading his thoughts, she began speaking, never turning her head away from the screen.
"When I was younger, my dad didn't want me reading anything actually intended for children. He said I'd be doing myself a disservice. This was the only children's book we had in the house. I would read it all the time…"
He frowned. What type of father didn't let his daughter read fairytales?
They continued to watch, making it halfway through the film when their luck ran out. A strong gust of wind and flash of lightening immediately preceded the power going out, and they both groaned.
"I definitely jinxed us." Olivia felt around for her phone, turning on its flashlight once she found it.
Fitz did the same. "That you did." He chuckled.
They both moved their phones to the coffee table, the light emanating from them enough to dimly illuminate the room.
"Well," she shrugged, "I've got nothing."
He smiled. "That makes two of us. I normally get out my flashlight and grade papers when the power's out."
She laughed and leaned into him, her head falling on his shoulder. It felt so natural – so normal that neither seemed to notice.
"I don't blame you, using boredom as motivation usually works."
He moved his arm so that it was around her shoulders, pulling her closer. It was more comfortable that way – at least that was what he told himself.
A calm quiet settled over them.
"Can I ask you something?" He questioned minutes later.
She nodded against his shoulder. "I think it's only fair."
"Why aren't there any pictures of you?"
She tensed and he cursed himself for ruining the moment.
Why couldn't he mind his own business?
After a moment, she spoke, much to his surprise, "When my parents separated, they were both opposed to joint custody, so they let me decide who I wanted to stay with." She sighed, "Everyone expected me to choose my mom, my dad was… tough, more of an authoritarian, and she was the school teacher who knew how to deal with children. They were both shocked when I chose him. She was upset, and by the looks of it, still is."
She was quiet for a moment before starting again, "She didn't think I did, but I knew that she and Dominic were having an affair. And when she introduced me to him, I just… felt like I didn't belong with them – like they had this whole other life and I'd always be the outsider. I've never told her because I didn't want to make her feel bad. It's why I've rarely ever visited and never stay for long…"
He briefly recalled Dominic's comment about her tendency to wander.
"Do you ever regret your decision?"
She took a moment to think about it. "I've never admitted it before, but had you asked me a few years ago, I probably would have said yes. My dad, he tried his best – I really believe that. But I think I was a constant reminder of what he saw to be his biggest failure. He was tough on me when it came to school and work, but pretty much absent any time else."
He stroked her shoulder with his thumb.
It wasn't lost on him that their roles had so seamlessly shifted from just an hour ago. Here he was coaxing her innermost thoughts from her, just as she had done for him.
"What about now?"
"Now, I take the experience for what it was. My dad pushed me, but in the end I was accepted into some great schools. I learned to be more independent and to value my own company. It taught me to approach life differently – more take charge, and more for myself."
He considered what she said, her earlier words to him starting to make sense.
"So what do you plan on doing now, what's your next move?"
She was quiet for a long moment. "I think for right now, I'll just go wherever the wind blows. I really want to get out there, you know – like you – I want to make a difference."
"My dad and I," she continued hesitantly, "we got into this huge argument before I left. He was royally pissed when I decided not to go to law school and nearly exploded when I told him my plans, so now seemed like a good time to reach out to my mother. I'd like to have a relationship with at least one of my parents before I go full-on m.i.a." She laughed tiredly. "I thought that we'd finally get a chance to clear the air. But it seems like she's not ready for that…"
"Well, you never know what could happen when she gets home on Monday," he offered, looking down at her.
Even in the dim light, he could see the doubt written across her face.
"Hey." He placed his hand under her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking at him. "If she's not ready to move forward, it's her loss."
She smiled at his words. "Thank you, Fitz."
He grinned. "Don't mention it."
He held her gaze. There was that feeling again – a distinct attraction pulling him to her. His heart beat wildly.
His lips descended onto hers without hesitation. This time, neither pulled away. His body heated at the sweet sensation of her lips on his, and his ears burned as her hands moved to hold the sides of his face.
Strong desire captured them both, a sudden urgency filling the space between them.
Their tongues soon swept across one another's, and she shifted so that she was straddling his lap. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, while the other rested on her back, pushing her further into him.
She began to rock ever so slightly. He groaned into her mouth. He could feel himself quickly growing aroused, and his hips started to rise to meet hers. She whimpered and his stomach tightened at the sound.
He suddenly flipped them over, maneuvering so that she was lying under him on the couch – all the while fervently kissing a trail to her neck.
"Fitz," she breathed. He reined himself in, quickly stopping his movements to see if she was ok.
Had he gone too far?
His question was answered as she brought her hand to the back of his head, urging him to continue. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Spurred by her satisfied sighs, he pressed his lips against a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
He needed more – they both did.
He vaguely registered her hand guiding his – under her shirt, over the expanse of her toned stomach…
Was that a navel piercing?
He nipped at her neck and growled when she moved his hand lower. His head shot up so that his eyes could meet hers for assurance. She was biting down on her lip and her eyes were dark with lust.
So beautiful…
It had been so long and he didn't think he had ever experienced such a strong pull to someone. He was more aroused than he could ever remember being, and, as she moved his hand under the waistband of her shorts – her eyes locked on his – he was sure he would burst.
Without another barrier, he came into contact with her wet heat sooner than expected and groaned appreciatively.
"Oh."
"Livvie…" it rolled off of his tongue so easily. She seemed to approve, sighing contently at the nickname.
His lips found hers once more as his fingers teased her warmth. She gasped when he slid one finger in – moaned when he slid in a second. She bit down on his bottom lip and he groaned with pleasure at the sting.
He found a steady rhythm, her hips rising to meet his fingers, when suddenly, her hand slid into his sweatpants. Her hand was soon on his member, and they both moaned as his forehead rested against hers.
He had already been painfully hard, and the warmth of her hand wrapped around him was enough to almost send him over the edge immediately. He didn't want that. He wanted to be with her, to be in her – but reality slipped through his haze just long enough for him to remember that he didn't have protection.
Regardless of not actually being inside her, he needed her to finish first. He quickened his movements, using his thumb to stroke her, and her head fell back – a string of moans falling from her lips.
"Fitz, please."
She followed his lead, moving her hands adeptly. Their movements together were just enough to –
"Oh my – yes."
"Shit, Livvie."
She arrived with a soft gasp, bringing him right along with her. He captured her lips with his for a final time, desperately needing the closeness.
Had that really just happened?
He had never experienced anything quite like it – a moment of sudden passion spurred on by needs more tender than just primal lust…
They finally calmed, deep breaths piercing the surrounding silence.
Their eyes met, widening with the realization of what had happened, and then softening with the acceptance that the moment was bigger than either of them.
As if timed perfectly, the lights flickered for a moment before turning back on.
He was immediately struck by how beautiful she looked. She was practically glowing in the aftermath of their – whatever that had been. And he couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like to see her in that state every day of his life. He shifted so that he was not resting all of his weight on her and looked anywhere but at her, unsure of what to say.
Olivia was silent for a moment, and then, "I can certainly say that I've never done that during a power outage."
Fitz laughed, hard, and she soon joined.
"We should…get cleaned up," he suggested after they had calmed.
She stood up. "I think our clothes should have dried before the power went out, I'll bring your clothes to the bathroom." She looked him over. "Although, I think you should keep that stuff."
He grimaced at the thought of returning the clothes. "Yeah, I think I will."
As promised, Olivia knocked on the bathroom door several minutes later holding his clothes. She had already changed into another t-shirt and pair of shorts.
"I think the worst of it's passed, if you wanted to go home…" she said as she handed over the clothes.
He thought it over, a sense of dread filling him at the thought of leaving her.
"Would you mind if I stayed here for the night. It's kinda late and –"
"No, that's completely fine." She smiled.
He nodded, relieved.
He rejoined her in the living room several minutes later. The coffee table had been removed, and the couch was pulled out to reveal a makeshift bed.
"Here." She tossed him a pillow.
"Thanks." He caught it and sat on the bed. He watched as she folded a head scarf before tying it around her head. He wanted to ask if she would be spending the night with him or in the room that had been set aside as hers. But, fearing how the question would come across, he chose to remain silent.
Much to his delight, she turned off the lights before pulling back the sheets and lying down beside him. He quickly joined her under the covers.
"I hope you don't mind." She lay her head on his chest, wrapping her arm around his middle.
He smiled, pulling her into him. "Not at all." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. He tuned out all thoughts of work and coworkers and pending life decisions, and chose to focus on the simplicity of the moment.
Right now, he was with a woman who may have very well changed his life – a woman he could imagine spending the rest of that changed life with…
"Mmm Fitz." She mumbled sleepily against his chest.
"Hmm?"
"I hope everything works out for you, wherever you end up."
Hopefully with you…
He tightened his arms around her.
"I'm glad you picked me up."
He rubbed a hand over her back. "Me too, Livvie." He closed his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning."
Fitz awoke the next morning unexpectedly cold. He reached out to his right and came in contact with the sheets. He blinked several times, rubbing his eyes and wondering if it had all been a dream.
He looked around, noting that he was in Maya and Dominic's home.
So it really did happen…
He scanned the room for Olivia or any trace of her. There was none. He stood and stretched, listening for footsteps or a hint of life. He removed the sheets from the bed before reassembling the couch and moving the coffee table back to its original position.
He walked to the laundry room to drop off the sheets, growing increasingly confused at Olivia's absence. He walked throughout the entire first floor of the house, and, coming up empty, finally made his way to the kitchen.
There, sitting on the counter, was an omelet. Despite her absence, he smiled at the kindness of the gesture. As he approached the counter, he noticed something resting beside the plate.
His eyes narrowed at the sight of the broken wheel from Olivia's suitcase on top of a note. He moved the wheel, picking up the note,
Fitz,
I'm sorry to leave so abruptly. Please tell my mother and Dominic that I appreciate their hospitality, but something came up. I'll be away for a little while (backpacking across Europe was just too tempting), but I'll be in contact when I'm in the area. Lunch will be on me.
P.S. I'll be volunteering in Papua New Guinea this summer, but it'll be a little hard to get around while my suitcase is missing a wheel. I know we didn't get to see the end of the movie, so spoiler alert: Prince Charming got Cinderella's shoe back to her with a little effort. I trust that you'll do the same.
He smiled reading the last line. At the bottom of the note was a number she labeled as the volunteer agency's next to a smiley face.
Left only with the vague scent of her lingering on his clothes, he marveled at the events of the day before. She had come in and out of his life, just as quick and powerful as the storm brewing outside.
Her sudden absence filled him with an unexplainable sadness, but the prospect of seeing her again set his heart aflame with eager anticipation.
In the meantime, he had a few plans of his own to make.