Compromising Incriminations

"You're slippin' old lady; I could've killed you by now."

At the taunt from the intruder, Marie stilled. In measured, deliberate movements she laid the fork down and dabbed the sides of her mouth with the cloth napkin. She lost her appetite.

There were only a few restaurants in Los Angeles worthy of her persnickety palate and when she indulged, she preferred to do so in solitude.

Sabrina smiled widely as she took the seat across from her mother. "Have you missed me, Mom?" They both knew the answer to that question.

"What do you want Sabrina?" Marie said, her irritation evident.

Sabrina continued to smile. She enjoyed toying with her mother; drawing perverse pleasure from testing all her pressure points. "I seriously could have taken you out with minimal effort and you would have never known it."

"If you say so dear," Marie responded condescendingly. Her daughter's bravado was as entertaining as it was unrealistic.

"I came in through the kitchen….The food you're eating, would you detect the poison before it overtook your system and killed you. I can make it look like a heart attack," Sabrina boasted.

That gave Marie pause. She looked from the plate to her daughter and back again. The air of superiority was shifting and it was not in her favor. A mixture of anger and pride washed over her. Despite, their deep, serious rift, she remained proud of Sabrina. They were not alike in temperament or attitude but Sabrina was a quick learner; an excelling student. She had taken the skills Marie taught her and honed them, making them her own. Marie no longer recognized her as the student under her tutelage; she had become something more.

Sabrina tossed back her masses of unruly raven black curls and grabbed the glass of wine on the table. She took a sip and raised it in salute to her mother. "Amazing….as expected," she said in commendation of the wine her mother had chosen. She sighed before continuing, "Relax Mom, I did not poison your food." When Marie appeared as if she did not believe her, Sabrina picked up the fork and ate two bites herself.

Marie rolled her eyes; she didn't appreciate Sabrina's humor at her expense. "What do you want Sabrina?" Marie repeated her initial question.

"Why can't you leave Fitz alone? Why do you keep coming for him?"

Marie laughed. "Is that what you came here for? Is he sending you to fight his battles? You continue to choose this man over your own mother."

"You have chosen men over me my entire life….I learned from you."

"I did it for a specific purpose…it was necessary…it had nothing to do with you."

Sabrina's hands fisted on the table as her anger began to rise. "And that was the problem! I was never the priority….There was always some job; some mission; some assignment. Nothing about your life had anything to do with me."

Marie waved a dismissive hand. "We have had this conversation Sabrina. We have been through this and it's becoming tiresome. I don't like being bored and you are boring me."

Marie watched as her daughters light hazel eyes sparked in annoyance. Sabrina was so very beautiful; uncommonly, strikingly so. The mixture of her father's Hispanic nationality gave her a Mediterranean look. Everywhere she went men wanted her but unlike her mother, she never used it to gain advantage over them. She thought herself better than that. The air of superiority became a part of her persona.

"The woman you sent to seduce Fitz – Olivia Pope – who is she?"

"I don't….."

Sabrina assumed Marie was about to deny it. She cut her off with indignation. "Don't lie! I saw her leaving your apartment weeks ago. You sent her to him. You are using her to get to him."

"I was going to say, I don't owe you any explanations Sabrina. You want to know something then you need to find it out yourself. I won't offer you anything."

"Give me back the paintings you stole from him. You've had your fun, now I want them back," she demanded.

"And what will you give me for them?"

Sabrina was mute.

"Oh come on Sabrina. You came here to 'save Fitz'…you must have brought something to give me in return."

"You can't sell them….You'd be arrested the moment you tried."

Marie shook her head. Sometimes young people accepted the simpler explanations a little too eagerly in her opinion. It was small, lazy thinking. They needed to develop discernment; learn to look beyond the obvious.

Her voice was cold and blunt. "Sabrina, this is the absolute last time I am going to tell you this: You have chosen the WRONG side. You can come back now and all will be forgiven. But if you continue in this course, I can no longer protect you. I will no longer be responsible for what happens to you."

She knew her mother would never consider them equals but when she resorted to addressing her like a child giving in to the whim of a tantrum; it was infuriating; as if she lacked the wisdom to choose the RIGHT side and the courage to act independently of her mother's influence.

This conversation was the final proof that their relationship was completely severed. Her mother would never change; never give in. She'd die before she'd surrender.

"You left the one painting behind to set him up but it won't work. You won't win. And when the dust settles and you realize how much you have lost, you will remember this conversation and how I tried to help you and you rejected me."

Sabrina stood from the seat and looked down on her mother, taking a moment to appreciate the view of inferiority. "You are a foolish woman who is allowing her pride and need for revenge to cloud your judgment. And it will end you."

Sabrina left the way she came; still undetected by Marie's phantom security.

XXX

"Have you ever had one of those dreams where you woke up and you weren't certain which part was a dream and which part was real?" Her voice a low whisper, feathering against his ear. The huskiness of her tone was a real turn on for him and he moaned at the sound.

It was late; they were satiated; still slightly intoxicated but nonetheless hesitant to fall asleep. Sleep was a luxury they could not afford; sleep was a distraction and it consumed precious time.

He watched the candlelight flicker across the room as he lay on his stomach with his arms folded to support his head. The night air was warm against their bare skin. The sheets were discarded needlessly, crumpled at the end of the bed; strewn about during their lovemaking.

"Mmmmm" was his only response to acknowledge her question. To be honest, he was so relaxed and at ease with her in his bed, all he could think about was the marvelous feeling of having her naked body lying directly pressed against his back, along the full length of his body.

Her cheek was pressed to his but she raised her head momentarily to plant a small affectionate kiss there before settling back down in the comfortable position. "It's kind of like that here for me. I can't tell which part is a dream and which part is reality," she knew she sounded fanciful and her ramblings probably should not be taken seriously.

"Which part do you want to be real?" he asked. For him, the answer was easy. He wanted this – with her. But for her, it wasn't as forthcoming. She would continue to fight against the idea of their reality merging with this fantasy every step of the way.

She never answered the question and Fitz realized that she was an expert at dodging questions she wasn't yet comfortable with addressing. She often countered the question with one of her own.

"What will happen to you when we get back?" there was a stillness about her now as if she was imagining all the possibilities of what could be his fate.

"Livvy…" he breathed. He didn't want to talk about it, not now; not when they had so little time left.

"They won't give up Fitz….The police are sure you're their suspect and they won't give up until you're arrested. Maybe….maybe you should run." Olivia closed her eyes, allowing herself one more moment to enjoy the feel of his hard body beneath hers. She fought the emotional turmoil threatening to burst free.

"I won't run unless you come with me Livvy, you know that…Come with me," his voice was lazy, slow and deep but she knew he was not joking.

She rolled off his back and stared at the ceiling. The one errant tear she had been holding back rebelliously fell down her face to the pillow.

He instantly shifted his body and rose over her. At first she wouldn't look at him and he knew she was struggling against her feelings. When she finally did, he could see the fear darkening her soft brown orbs. Caressing her face, he gave her a gentle, comforting smile.

"I….I can't Fitz…..I just can't….I…." She wasn't supposed to do this. She wasn't supposed to fall for him; her heart was not supposed to give in. The fact that her mind was even considering his proposition bothered her. After such a short time, she was weighing whether to give up everything for him; it was unacceptable. She had to bring the walls back up.

"Sshh Livvy, don't worry…Everything will be fine. I promise it will all work out." He hadn't meant to put so much pressure on her. In truth, his statement was more rhetorical than anything; he hadn't expected her to take time to contemplate the option. He expected a witty comeback full of rejection.

Olivia searched his eyes for some meaning behind his words. What exactly was he promising her? Why was he so confident; self-assured? Was it foolish thinking or did he truly have a plan for every eventuality?

His touch, which started off as show of consolation quickly turned into the catalyst for desire. He could see the passion replacing the fear as she began responding to him. It didn't matter that they had already made love twice that evening; the thirst was far from quenched.

He should have known. From the moment he touched her, held her, kissed her, he should have known it would be over for him and he would be lost. He had gone past the point of no return. And maybe he did know; maybe he knew she would be the force to turn his entire world inside out and he didn't care. Maybe whatever chaos erupted in his life he knew he would handle as long as she was there after the storm died down.

"You are the most amazing woman I have ever known," he whispered in praise.

He playfully teased her lips, taking his time, patient for the sound of her pleasure. His actions were languid, calculated; he was creating a memory of their final night here together. He moved to deepen the kiss but she beat him to it. Her fingers were buried in his curls as she brought him closer, sweeping her tongue inside his mouth, dueling him for control. She had turned ravenous for him and all thoughts Fitz had of going slow were edging away.

Olivia had never felt so many conflicting emotions within her at once. She was desperate for him; yet knew the folly of staying with him. She yearned for his touch; yet firmly chastised herself for the attachment she developed. During her time with him, she constantly regulated her mind and heart, forcing them to understand that all she felt was lust; a wild, intense craving for him that once their time was over would be satisfied. She was lying to herself.

Suddenly he flipped her over. She gasped in anticipation. They would make love like the world – their world – was coming to an end. Because it was.

With his hand still underneath her, he lifted her ass to meet him as he entered her from behind. Olivia clenched the sheets, balled them up in her fists as she felt him move in and out of her while using his fingers to deftly stroke her core. A burst of sensations traveled through her body and even her moans sounded loud, foreign to her own ears. She felt herself losing control in the most delicious way; the pressure was building massively. "Oh….Oh….Ah…..Ah…..Ahhhhhhh."

Olivia thought to collapse in exhaustion but Fitz had other ideas. He turned her on her back. She smiled as he came over her and gently moved a few errant strands of hair from her face. The smile she received back was not gentle at all; it was mischievous to say the least.

"You're not done," Fitz told her.

Olivia giggled, "What are you talking about? I'm done." She was more than satisfied. And frankly, she felt too weak to go another round.

Unexpectedly, he thrust inside her; the feeling causing them both to sharply draw in their breath. "Nope, I can feel you, you're not done."

"Fitz….I…" It came out as a plea. She wasn't able to keep up with him tonight.

He kissed down her neck and whispered, "I think you can do better than that." He was determined to give her an orgasm that would render her completely speechless, immovable and possibly unconscious.

Olivia thought to protest; to tell him that she could barely lift her legs until she felt his tongue swirling around her nipple, one after the other. She arched her back, encouraging him to continue his assault. He knew it would drive her crazy; send her over the edge with need and he was relentless in creating the same urgency within her that was already within him.

He put her legs on his shoulders; he knew she couldn't do it on her own. They were already shaky from her lack of strength. He moved within her, creating a friction between them that would hit the right spot over and over again. From this position her could look in her eyes, watch her as she released and it was a glorious sight.

Olivia felt like she had an outer body experience where everything within her shattered into tiny little pieces.

Buried deep within her, Fitz then came just as hard. His voice was hoarse, guttural, "Ahh….FUCK!" He spent himself and it was like every ounce of energy had been wrenched from his body.

A harmonious sigh escaped them both as he slowly removed her legs from his shoulders and turned them to their sides. The curves of their body spooned perfectly. He kissed the side of her head before bringing the thin sheet to cover them.

When they were settled, seconds away from a deep slumber he whispered, "Never forget Livvy…no matter what happens when we get back, never forget that you're the one that I want. You're the one that I want to be with."

She heard him but she didn't respond. There was nothing she could say to that. She was afraid to open her mouth to try; afraid that she would somehow subconsciously admit the truth; that she was falling in love with him. And instead of the happiness that admission would have produced in a 'normal' couple, for them it was tragic.

XXX

"You have done some stupid things in the past but this….this is beyond anything! You have done the most idiotic thing you could ever do! Really how could you be this insanely moronic? I don't know….."

"STOP!" Mellie yelled, no longer able to endure the constant berating from Cyrus.

She got up from her desk and came toe-to-toe, eye-to-eye with him. She had never stood up for herself to him or Fitz but now was the time. "I will no longer abide the constant insults…..I am an intelligent woman. I know what I am doing. I am not some stupid emotional woman who cannot make a decision without the insight of a man. What I have done…I did for me! For ME! I was taking care of me! So if Fitz goes down for everything, so be it. I am not his priority and he is not mine!"

Her chest was heaving but she felt proud of herself. She felt powerful and in control. She stood taller in regality. Cyrus couldn't touch her. He would now have to tuck his tail between his legs and scurry off back to his master.

Cyrus laughed in her face. For a full minute he gave a hearty, belly-laugh and Mellie could only back away and watch as his face turned blotchy red in amusement.

He was still chuckling when he said, "You seriously think that you are acting out of your own choice! You really think this….this stupid move…is taking care of YOU?! You think setting up Fitz automatically means your salvation?...I gave you way too much credit, this is worse than being stupid….its….its…."

"Cyrus!"

"You are a fucking puppet Mellie!" Cyrus cut in with a serious, dogmatic voice. "Your masters have their hands up your skirts; they fondle you and you dance."

Mellie rolled her eyes, disgusted by his crude analogy.

He wasn't dismayed. He continued with renewed gusto, "What amazes me is that with all your proclaimed brilliance you still fail to realize it. You're ready to call this little assertion of your rights an advancement in the women's liberation movement. All you did….all you did was trade one master for another. And let me be clear..." He paused and violated her personal space, continuing in a menacing tone, "the master you are tied to now will gut you and leave you bleeding to death on the ground. And you will be so oblivious to it; you'll still be saying 'thank you for saving me'."

XXX

Somewhere in the middle of the night Olivia felt the loss of his body heat and the bed shifted. Her eyes fluttered and through cracked eyelids she saw Fitz get up from the bed and put on his pajama pants.

"Fitz? What's the matter?" she said in a groggy voice.

"Nothing is wrong Livvy. Go back to sleep," he responded as he took a gun out of the nightstand drawer. He leaned down and kissed her forehead before walking over to the window. He moved the sheer curtains slightly so he could see outside without being seen.

Then she heard it; a helicopter. It was getting louder and coming closer to the house.

"Who is that? Were you expecting someone?" Olivia asked as she sat up in bed and tightened the sheets around her. She tried not to sound panicked but it was hard. She could see the tension in his back and his grip on the gun tightened.

He didn't answer her; his attention focused on the uninvited visitors. Olivia waited patiently; watching him closely as the helicopter sound drew louder, nearing fast.

In the silence, she could hear her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

He finally turned to leave the bedroom. "Fitz wait!...What's going on? Who is that?"

Fitz responded to the worry in her voice; he heard her fear. For her benefit, he forced himself to relax. He wasn't sure who it was and but he didn't want to alarm her without reason. His features softened and he assured, "It's probably just a message from Cyrus. Everything will be fine."

As Fitz went downstairs he could hear the helicopter landing in the distance, away from his front door. He took the safety off as he listened for the footsteps and the knock at the door. "Quién es?" He called out, careful to keep a wide berth between him and the door.

"Mr. Grant, Mr. Beene sent me," the female voice responded. She was American. He recognized the voice.

Fitz exhaled sharply as he approached the door. He looked through peephole to confirm that it was the courier Cyrus sent when he needed to get an urgent message to him and due to his paranoia; he wouldn't trust phones or computers.

"Jesse, he sent you all the way over here?" Fitz said as he greeted the young woman dressed impeccably in the tailored skirt suit. The helicopter propellers gave her a wind-blown look that added a seductive wildness to her already beautiful features. He stepped back and allowed her to enter.

"Yes," she said simply as she walked in. She looked around in admiration; in all the years she worked for Cyrus Beene she had never been to this house before.

"So what's the problem? What's going on?"

She adjusted her glasses. She never got used to seeing him this way – relaxed and non-business like. But this time, seeing him bare-chested for the first time was affecting her immensely; causing her to lose her focus and forget herself. She had imagined what he would look like but the reality was infinitely more enticing than anything her dreams conjured up. He always made her blush with improper thoughts but Cyrus would kill her – in his words 'skin her alive' – if she ever found herself entangled with Fitzgerald Grant. For her, he was completely off limits, which was a pity.

She walked over to a small foyer table and sat the metal briefcase on top. "He's afraid you've been compromised." She looked at the gun in his hand and asked, "Have you fired that gun at all during this trip?"

"No."

She nodded in acceptance; she wouldn't have to confiscate it.

When she looked into his eyes, she momentarily lost track of what she was supposed to be doing. He had a way of looking at you like you were the only person that mattered in the world. It was unique to him and caused more than a few crushes around the office.

He stared back at her waiting for her to say more. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and opened the briefcase. It contained two phones, two guns, magazine clips and a large envelope.

"I need the two burner phones you have. Are they in the vehicle?" When Fitz nodded, she continued, "We are changing the GPS and license plates. Do you have your personal cell phone with you?" He nodded again, now focusing on the large envelope. "Have you secured it; turned off the location tracking?"

Fitz ran his hand through his hair and Jesse rapidly blinked at the gesture; her mouth watered at the sight. She quickly diverted her eyes from his bulging bicep muscles. "What's this all about Jesse?"

"Mr. Beene says everything you need to know is in the envelope…The uh 'friend' you have with you, does she have a phone?"

"I convinced her to leave it behind." Fitz recalled the extensive back and forth conversation they had over her phone. Apparently it was an unheard of concept for Olivia Pope to be away from her phone, even for two days.

"That's great…perfect….then we don't need to worry about it. I can take the guns back if you don't need them," she offered.

"It's fine…leave them."

"Mr. Beene says the security around this place will have to be increased. It's unclear if anyone knows where you are but someone is looking and….well you now him, he worries."

"I've sent everyone away….there are only two men patrolling the grounds."

Jesse frowned. "Mr. Beene won't be pleased."

"I can protect myself Jesse. Cyrus worries too much." Jesse adjusted her glasses again. Her eyes wondered down his entire body; his pants hung dangerously low and she would give anything for them to drop further. She felt hot, flushed with redness. It took all her strength not to glance at the bulge in his pants for the third time.

She cleared her throat again. "You wouldn't consider coming home early, perhaps leaving tonight?"

He was already shaking his head; it was out of the question. "Absolutely not."

Jesse shrugged. She had expected that answer. "He told me to try but we knew you would decline."

Before leaving, she asked, "Do you need anything else from me?" It was the standard question she asked at the conclusion of their meetings and in her dreams he would finally ask her to run away with him, but in reality the answer was always the same.

"No that will be all. Thank you."

She contained her disappointment and left without another word.

"Now can you tell me what's wrong?" Olivia called from the stairs. She heard most of his conversation and watched him open the envelope and peruse the documents and pictures. He was shocked by what he saw but his features eventually calmed and he became resigned to the information.

She watched as his entire body changed when he looked at her; a pressure was releasing. The uptight, alarmed posture faded to the background and the caring, gentle man resumed his place.

His breath was caught. It was becoming her habit to take his breath away. She looked a vision – tousled hair and her petite naked body wrapped in the white sheet she kept in place with a clenched fist.

"You're beautiful," he said in fascination.

She smiled. "Are you trying to distract me?"

He put the documents back into the metal briefcase and slowly walked upon her. "I am…..is it working?"

"It might be." She responded honestly. She was still curious about what he received but intuitively her body was responding to him and she loved the feeling he created, the anticipation he elicited and the pleasure he awakened.

XXX

"So what am I doing here Charlie?"

Charlie smiled as he admired her tight pants and leather boots. She could look adorably innocent one moment and wildly wicked the next.

"Jake knows you have the painting," he warned.

Quinn's face remained expressionless.

"He knows you have the painting and he knows you got it from Grant."

Still Quinn said nothing.

"Dammit Quinn I'm trying to help you!" just like her boss, she was tight-lipped and it frustrated him to no end. He thought she had learned to trust him. Their sexual encounters weren't meaningless to him; he thought they were building a relationship. He feared she didn't feel the same.

She shifted in her stance but the defensiveness remained the same. "So how exactly do you want to help me?"

"Come in with me. Come and talk to Jake. If you don't…if you don't he'll try to bring some trump charges against all of you for protecting Grant, aiding a wanted criminal; make you all accomplices or some bullshit like that."

Quinn laughed at the statement and Charlie pressed harder. "It's not funny Quinn. He's got a witness. He's getting a warrant to search your offices and if he doesn't get what he wants he'll bring you all in….Look, I don't want you to get arrested. I…I care about you. I'm trying to save you."

"Charlie, you need to calm down….I've been arrested before and I'm not worried. Jake is just trying to flex his puny muscles and prove how big his dick is. It's not a big deal; the charges won't stick."

She continued smiling as she approached him and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "You're incredibly sweet and nice; too nice. Thank you...thank you for trying to help but I won't ever, ever betray my team….I'll see you around Charlie."

Charlie could only shake his head as he watched her walk away, get back in her car and drive away off.

All he could think about was how much he was starting to hate his partner.

XXX

He could wake up like this every day.

It was their last day; the last morning of blissful isolation.

After a moment of panic at the feel of an empty bed, he finally saw her. And of all the things they did over the past two days; of all the things they shared this was what he would imprint into his psyche. It was unforgettable.

The French doors leading out to the balcony of his bedroom were wide open; a soft breeze causing the sheer curtains to sway and bellow.

And there she was. Sitting on his balcony bathed in sunlight. The crisp white sheet crumpled around her waist leaving her entire torso bare. Engrossed in thought, staring off into the distance, she sat with her arms folded above her head.

His eyes devoured her. He soaked in the image; her flawless skin, the lines leading to the curve of her breasts, her arched back and her flat stomach. It may have taken minutes, more than he kept track of, but he was determined to remember her this way. He watched as she turned her head upward towards the sun, closing her eyes to the glare but welcoming the warmth. A halo of brilliance surrounded her and it was almost a sin to disturb the vision.

He slipped out of bed and put on his pants. He realized that his decision to send the staff to their homes at the far end of the estate had been a good one. He could only imagine the reaction of Javier, his landscaper, at getting an eyeful of a gorgeous half-naked woman sitting on his balcony.

Careful not to startle her, he walked up from behind and said "Good Morning" as he lightly touched her shoulders. She didn't turn around but he saw her smile at his presence.

"I want to remember our time here," she said wistfully. She didn't bother to cover up and he found her confidence provocative. He wanted to believe that she was only like this with him; that he gave her the freeness of exhalation and she would never find with anyone else.

He leaned his back against the balcony railing and stood in front of her; careful not to block her sunlight but marveling in the unobstructed view of her radiance.

"You will….I'd be insulted if I was that forgettable," he tried to keep the mood light. He figured she had already spent however much time out here thinking and re-thinking their situation.

"You are definitely not that….And you kept your promise. I had a great time here."

That was the only acknowledgement of feelings he would get from her. He could see that she was drifting back into reality-mode, allowing the fantasy of this place to sail to the back of her mind. He respected her commitment to her job and her employees. She wouldn't be ruled by emotions. It was admirable. He wouldn't ask her again to choose him; it was unfair. He just had to fix it so that she could have it all.

"You really believe there is a 'Happy Ever After' for people like us?" she asked. Before she met Fitz, Olivia never contemplated the thought of 'forever'; she never wished for it; she never entertained the notion. It was the day-to-day realities of life that mattered; everything else was a fairy tale where people got their hearts broken. Fitz made her delve into a realm of possibilities completely foreign to her.

"I believe that we create our own happiness; we control our future. And if we want something, truly want it…then it can be ours."

His confidence would not allow her to dismiss his words.

"Whatever happens when we get back Livvy, I want you to know that you are always welcome here. You can come here anytime you wish; you'll be taken care of."

XXX

It was a look they had never seen before.

It wasn't just simple daydreaming in faraway thoughts. She was thinking of someone in particular. She was remembering. She would touch her lips and smile, apparently rekindling a memory that brought her pleasure.

They all watched her through the glass doors leading into her office but no one wanted to disturb her moment.

"You need to tell her," Huck said.

"I know but I don't want to tell her…look at her….she looks…happy. When have you ever seen her look like that?" Abby asked.

"Never," Harrison, Huck and Quinn said together.

"I don't want to bring her the bad news….Can't we wait a little while longer?"

"No!...Not while Jake is breathing down our necks, ready to search this place at any moment," Harrison contended.

"Alright…Alright but we do it together….agreed?"

"Agreed," they consented.

Abby took a deep breath before knocking on Olivia's office door and walking in with everyone filing in behind her.

"Hi Liv, did you have a nice weekend?"

Olivia cleared her throat and focused on her team. She straightened in her chair and resumed her professional demeanor. "Yes, I did thank you. So where are we with the painting?"

Everyone was silent and Olivia continued to stare at them; something was wrong. "Well…someone say something?"

It was only after a period of awkward silence that Harrison finally spoke up. "We got word early this morning. I'm sorry Liv but the painting…it's a forgery. A damned good one but it's a forgery. We need to keep looking."

XXX

When the crowd called for the jazz band to do an encore performance and the band accepted, Fitz groaned. All he wanted was this evening to end and to go home. He glanced at his date and the wide smile on her face was a clear indication that she was having a great time. He sipped his drink as the band started up again and settled back into his chair, hoping his disinterest wasn't rudely apparent.

After playing another song, the band leader announced that they would take a brief intermission before resuming the show. Fitz turned to his date, ready to call an end to the evening.

"Isn't this great Fitz?...I'm so happy you didn't cancel on me. I've been looking forward to this for months," Ashley exclaimed cheerfully.

He was very close to cancelling but they had been planning to go to this concert for months and he knew it would be unfair to back out at the last minute. In truth, the fact that Olivia hadn't returned his calls for the past three days weighed heavily on his decision.

He knew why she was ignoring him. The discovery of the forgery derailed her plans and sent her back to square one. He could only imagine how angry she was. He gave her time and distance hoping that eventually she would allow him to explain.

"I'm going to the ladies room. I'll be right back. When the waitress comes around can you get me another glass of wine?"

"Sure, no problem," Fitz said flatly. This would be her third glass. He sincerely hoped she didn't get drunk tonight. He wasn't in the mood to deal with how unpredictable she could be when she was inebriated. When she was last in town, as a favor to Cyrus, Fitz had taken out his niece and when she got drunk she became mean, ugly and generally unattractive.

When the band started up again and Ashley still had not returned, Fitz became concerned. He looked around but saw no sign of her.

He went to both ladies rooms and the attendants assured him that she was not in there. He reasoned that maybe they crossed paths and she was back at their table waiting for him. He started walking back towards his seat but someone else was now suddenly blocking his path; a mixture of fire and ice emanated from her, furiously directed at him.

"Your date got sick, poor thing. Don't worry, someone on my team is making sure she gets home safely and she'll be fine in the morning. It may have been the food that got to her but somehow I think she was sickened by her present company. I know I'm sickened just standing here," the venom in her voice rattled him; it took him off guard. He never heard her speak with such anger.

She stepped closer to him; her eyes were cold, frozen in ire. "You need to stop calling me; don't try to see me. This between us, whatever it was, is over!"

She turned and walked away. She enjoyed making another one of his dates sick to her stomach but now was done. She meant it when she said it was over.

After finding out the painting was a fake, she and her team spent three days feverishly pouring over every detail of the case; they must have missed something. They analyzed and re-analyzed the evidence, tested their findings and presenting possible conclusions.

She was working against the clock now. The insurance adjusters would be in Los Angeles in about a week – either to pay the claim or recover the stolen work of art. She couldn't fail. She wouldn't fail. She wouldn't allow him to distract her from her ultimate purpose; it was her name and reputation that was on the line.

She walked purposely, at a fast pace, away from him. Her head was high; proud of herself for terminating any connection they had. She waited to feel the freeness of being cut loose from him. But the feeling was slow in coming. In actuality, all she wanted to do was cry.

She suddenly felt his hand grip her arm and forcefully lead her into a dressing room.

As soon as he brought her in the room and closed the door behind him, she slapped his face – hard. Once again she caught him off guard and he lost his footing for a moment.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing!? Do not touch me EVER…EVER again!"

The fire in their eyes reflected like a mirror; the intensity of emotions brewing like a cauldron threatening to boil over.

"You need to move out of my way Fitz…I'm leaving," when he didn't budge, she started again, "You need….."

He didn't let her finish. He attacked her lips fiercely, almost cruelly. This was how he would express his anger and frustration. He could feel her starting to respond to him as she opened her mouth to give him access. He welcomed the taste of her. Without explanation, she had deprived him and he was determined to make up for what he missed.

Olivia could feel herself weakening; her thoughts becoming clouded and her resolve dwindling. She didn't like it. She began to push against him; trying to break free of his hold. He held her tighter but she continued to put up a fight. "NO!...NO!...Let me go….Let me go!"

He finally released her and she stepped back away from him. Their chests heaved as the passion left them struggling to reclaim their breath. "I don't want this! I don't want YOU!...You knew what you were doing. You knew the painting was a fake….You took me to Costa Rica and you made me start to fall for you. You fucked with my head and took me off my game; you played me!"

Olivia had never let anyone in; she never let anyone get as close to her heart as Fitz had. And he knew it; and he played on it.

"Livvy, let me explain…" Fitz pleaded.

"NO!...There is only one thing I want from you…the painting. I only want the painting. Where is it!?"

"Olivia, I told you I did not steal that painting and I do not have it," he was desperate for her to believe him.

His denial only angered her more. "I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU! You're a liar!...You left yourself wide open, the forgery was too good. I have the markers Fitz; I know that the forger was in the presence of the original when the painting was done!"

Her indignation was rising with each word. She was angry at herself for feeling anything for him; she was angry at him for making her care and she was angry at the circumstances that brought them together.

His eyes widened in surprise at her new-found knowledge. Still he tried to repeat his earlier denial. "Olivia I do not…"

"STOP!...STOP lying to me!" She spewed. When he said nothing, she forged on, "Forget it. I will find the painting on my own. And the police will nail you Fitz; before all this is over, you will be arrested, I'll make sure of it."

Fitz stopped trying to defend himself. There was no longer any point to it.

She took several breaths but it didn't halt the steady stream of tears marring her face. Her voice was calmer, yet still unforgiving. The anger was fleeting; only the hurt remained. "You distracted me, broke me down and played on my emotions. You made me feel something for you when it was all part of the game. Well, congratulations you succeeded and I feel like a complete idiot. I was a fool for believing that something was between us. You are a fucking asshole and I wish I never met you. I never want to talk to you again. Don't call me and don't try to see me."

This time when she moved to leave, he stepped aside. His head was bowed; hung low in defeat. He didn't stop her and he didn't say a word to convince her of anything otherwise. He let her go.

The tears didn't cease when she left the room. She was determined to get to her car before she completely broke down. She refused to give a second thought to the pain etched in his face or the tears in his eyes. He deserved no consideration or sympathy from her. The image of him drowning in anguish; tormented at her scathing words would be erased from her memory, eventually, or so she hoped.

(A/N: Oh boy this version of Fitz is AWESOME. Can you imagine Tony doing a role like this? *swoon*

Anyway I won't leave a long author's note. I'll just thank you for your continued interest in this story. If you are confused about anything in the chapters thus far include it in your feedback and I will respond. I also enjoy PM's. Of course, no spoilers:) But I would love to hear your thoughts on Olivia's reaction - over the top or no? You got more of Sabrina and Marie/Maya in this chapter and the interaction between Mellie and Cyrus was interesting as well.

Hope you enjoyed the update. Have a great week)