Chapter 7
"If you weren't involved in politics, what would you do?" Liv asked Fitz as she lathered her hands with the bar of soap. Setting aside the soap, she began to methodically wash Fitz's thigh that poked out of the water.
Wrapping his arms around Olivia, Fitz rested his chin on top of her head as he watched her wash his leg in their shared bath. He replied, "I don't know."
Liv paused in her scrubbing. She tilted her head back to look up at him and said, "Oh come on, Fitz. There must be something, some other career that you've thought about pursuing, even if only for a moment." She smiled. "Tell me," she said, reaching up to wipe some soap off of his nose.
Fitz playfully leaned down to bite her bottom lip before saying, "I'm serious. For as long as I can remember, I have been groomed for this one thing, this one purpose. Every school I went to, every organization I joined, every job I took…it was all designed to get me here, to this moment. I'm only two weeks away from Election Day and there's a good chance that I'm going to win. I honestly haven't considered doing anything else outside of being president.
"And even if I do win and go on to serve an additional 4 years, I haven't even thought about what I'll do once I'm out of the White House. Should I write a book, Ms. Pope?" he asked, pulling her bottom tighter against him, "Shall I call it something deep and profound, like 'The Meaning of Life: Memoirs of a Former President'?"
Olivia started laughing halfway through the title, finding it utterly ridiculous. She reached for the soap again only to have it snatched out of her hands by Fitz. After he lathered up his hands, he placed the bar aside again and began to slowly wash her arms, from the tops of her shoulders all the way to each individual finger. Olivia barely stifled the shiver that crawled up her spine.
"I think you should think about it," Liv gasped out as Fitz's hands disappeared beneath the water.
He asked, distracted, "Think about what?" The woman was moaning and writhing in his lap and she wanted him to form coherent thoughts? She wanted him to string together a bunch of words that resembled a sentence? 'She gives me too much credit,' he thought.
Olivia grabbed Fitz's hands and placed them on the edge of the tub so that she could think. There was something she was about to say…what was it?
"Umm," she said stupidly as Fitz began to trail lingering kisses down the side of her neck. "You should think about what you're going to do after your presidency, Fitz," Liv said, finally remembering what she'd wanted to tell him. "Something that drives you, something you think you'll enjoy. If you sit at home all day or decide to play golf, it'll drive you up the wall," she finished, deciding to pull his fingers back around her waist as she leaned her head back on his shoulder.
Fitz released her neck in favor of drawing circles on her navel with his thumb. He said, jokingly, "Do women always think so far ahead in the future? That kind of planning must be exhausting."
Liv turned around in his arms and bit his lip this time. She kissed him to soothe away the sting before saying, "I'll show you 'exhausting', Dr. Grant."
Fitz looked at Olivia and wondered what good deed he could have possibly done to receive such a treasure as this woman in his arms. She was intelligent and heart-stoppingly beautiful. She was funny and strong and sexy.
But what he loved most about her was that she allowed him to see her vulnerable and truly open. To the rest of the world, she seemed cold, analytical, and almost detached from her surroundings. But Fitz was one of the few privileged human beings to see her laugh uninhibited or admit her feelings to him with her heart on her sleeve. One such instance was when she'd said a few days ago after a deliciously kinky lovemaking session, 'I love your voice. It is, literally, my favorite sound in the world. I could listen to you speak for hours, days, years, and never tire of the sound'. It made him feel honored.
Humbled.
"Dr?" he asked her now, picking her up and lifting them both out of the water. As he carried her to the bed of their hotel room, he said, "I like the sound of that."
"Fitz?!" someone was shouting in his ear. But instead of the lovely, breathy sound of Olivia's voice when she called his name, he heard a different, slightly annoying voice instead. Fitz opened his eyes to see Mellie standing over him, holding a cold rag across his forehead.
Fitz sat up quickly and looked around him. "What happened?" he asked, somewhat disoriented. One minute he was in a hotel room, swallowing Olivia's cries as she came around him, and the next, he was on the cold floor in the kitchen.
Mellie said, "Don't sit up too fast! You bumped your head on the floor when you fell." Mellie was wringing her hands. It was all her fault. She had spilled some water earlier but her pregnancy did not allow her the same ease she used to possess when it came to bending over to wipe something up or pick something up off of the ground. In her defense, she didn't think he'd come into the kitchen since he had staff to get him whatever he needed.
When she heard him fall, her first thought was for his safety. Her second thought, however, was for the presidency. He wouldn't lose all the ground he'd already covered with his memories, would he? What if he reverted back to that first day he woke up in the hospital?
Fitz got off the floor and slowly made his way over to the couch in the living room. Sitting down, he leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. The whole time, Mellie followed after him, making sure he was acting normal. After watching him for a few minutes just breathe in and out, she said, "I called Cyrus a while ago so he should be here any minute." After she still didn't get a response or even an acknowledgement from him that she was even in the room, Mellie said angrily, "Fitz? Did you hear what I just said?"
"I heard you," he replied as he touched his lips with his fingers. He could still feel her lingering there, which was ridiculous. Because according to the timeline he'd forgotten, that kiss would've happened almost three years ago.
"Thanks," Fitz said, belatedly, after he realized Mellie was still standing over him.
"Ugghh!" Mellie sighed, throwing her hands in the air. She turned around to leave the room while muttering, "I could have been a lawyer, fighting cases this very moment. But nooooo, I have to babysit my brain-dysfunctional husband…"
True to her word, a few minutes later, Cyrus opened the door and walked over to Fitz. "How are you feeling, sir?" he asked, genuine worry in his voice and his expression.
Fitz touched his shoulder and said, "I'm fine, Cy—"
"No dizziness, nausea, or pain anywhere?" Cyrus asked, wanting to be sure. They could not afford a setback in his bid for the presidency, but more importantly, Cyrus wanted to make sure that he would be okay. That his brain had ample healing time to remember the things he needed to remember; not for his position of power, but for his own sanity and happiness. Cyrus didn't approve of Fitz's relationship with Olivia when he first found out about them, but he couldn't imagine what it would be like if he'd forgotten someone that he loved with all his heart.
If he never remembered them again.
That, in and of itself, was its own brand of torture and Cyrus wouldn't wish that kind of curse on his worst enemies…actually, that's a lie. He would definitely wish that kind of thing on his worst enemies.
"I'm fine, Cy. I promise," Fitz said again, shaking his head. He didn't know if he was ready to tell Cyrus that some of his memories were coming back. A part of him wanted to rejoice in the fact and announce it to the public. While another part of him wanted to keep the memories private and play his cards close to his chest for a while.
It had recently occurred to Fitz that his memory loss could serve as a major advantage. As his memories began to re-emerge, he had the opportunity to observe the behaviors of those around him and compare them with how they behaved during the five years he'd lost. His theory wouldn't work on someone like Olivia since he did not know her pre-anniversary dinner, but for the rest of his family, friends, and colleagues, it could become an invaluable tool.
"The cabinet has come to a decision, Fitz," Cyrus said, sitting down next to him on the couch. "I called Liv and she's on her way here," Fitz's heart jumped at that announcement, "You have to get changed and meet Sally Langston downstairs in the Oval," Cyrus concluded.
Mellie took a deep breath before saying, "Why is Olivia coming? There's nothing more she can do that will influence the decision, is there?" Olivia had done her part. And win or lose, her services were no longer required. Why couldn't they see that? Why couldn't they see that they did not need Olivia Pope's approval in order to take their next breath?
"In any case," she continued, "I'm going to the bathroom, yet again. I'll be glad when my bladder becomes my own again and not a ball for the baby to bounce on." Mellie turned and left the room, leaving the two men still sitting there, staring at her, dumbfounded.
Fitz still hadn't gotten up yet. He was excited to hear from the cabinet but something made him pause. Something made him feel as though he should want Langston to remain president. Why? And, if he'd been president for three years already, why did he see nothing—in either his research or other findings—which suggested that he planned to run for a second term? Becoming the President of the United States was the one thing that he'd strived for ever since he was a child. Why did all the evidence point to the fact that his priorities had shifted?
"Fitz? What's wrong?" Cyrus asked. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
Fitz looked at Cyrus and was about to speak when Olivia walked in, worry etched on her face. And Fitz's heart stopped.
"Are you alright?" she asked him directly, rushing over to stand before him. She clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and covering his face in kisses.
Fitz stood and told her, "Don't worry. I'm fine, Livy." Fitz stared at her clenched fists and realized that they mirrored his own fists as he tried not to pull her against him.
Cyrus looked back and forth between them for a couple of seconds before he stood and said, "I'll wait for you outside."
After Cyrus closed the door, Fitz moved towards her, even as she took steps back, trying desperately to put distance between them. Liv was forced to stop when she bumped into the wall and it was then that he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. Liv, voice shaking slightly, said, "I'm glad you're okay—"
"You are so beautiful," he said simply, stopping her. Fitz lifted his other hand to grab a handful of her hair, tugging a little until she tilted her head back. The movement gave him better access as he leaned down and brushed his lips so lightly against hers that she barely felt it.
Liv couldn't help it when her hands grabbed his sides and reached around the expanse of his back. The thing was, Fitz was looking at her like he used to look at her—not when they'd first met, but the same way he looked at her with the years of history they had together. Like he knew her, inside and out. Liv's breath caught. Did he remember?
"Fitz?" she whispered.
"Bits and pieces of us are coming back to me, even when no other memories have surfaced. I remember how we were together. That you trusted me enough to let me in. I remember that when we came together, the ground shifted," he said, brushing his lips against her cheek and her jaw before coming back up. "And I think…I think that my priorities did shift, Livy. Didn't they?" he asked.
Liv was shaking. This was the very thing she was trying to avoid. When the cabinet reinstated him—and they would—then they would be right back where they started. He would be the president and she would be the fixer. She'd stay to help him settle in and write his speeches but then she'd have to leave because she couldn't watch him with Mellie anymore and she couldn't stand being the one who only got to be with him at night.
In the dark.
Because they were most definitely in the dark. Not the light, not where others could see and witness how very much in love she was with this man.
"We don't have time for this, Fitz," she said as she tightened her hands around his back. "They're waiting for you—"
"Let them wait," he said. Fitz brought his other hand up to cup her face and pulled her face back up to his as he made out with her against the wall. He thoroughly tasted her mouth and slowly sucked on her tongue, as if there wasn't a boardroom full of people waiting to announce their decision, as if the President of the United States wasn't waiting on him to meet her in the Oval.
A silent tear escaped Liv's eye and she kissed him back with all the unsaid things between them. With all of the love and trust and passion she held for him in her heart. With her regret for ever leaving him in the first place.
When she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, she begged him to forgive her for Edison. When she thrust both hands into his hair, she told him she'd never push him away again. And when she stroked his cheek with the pads of her fingers, she promised that she was his.
But all the while they were lost in each other, lost in their own world, Mellie stood in the doorway, shocked at what she'd walked in on. She had never seen Liv and Fitz together in a romantic capacity. Mellie had only witnessed Fitz's longing looks at Olivia and Liv's surreptitious glances at Fitz. Mellie knew that they were sleeping together years ago, had even condoned it, but she had never seen them hug or hold hands.
Or kiss.
And the kiss she was witnessing broke her heart. It made Mellie feel like she was the intruder on a private moment between two people who loved each other. Like she was the one who didn't belong there.
So all her dreams of finally stealing Fitz back from Olivia and having a shot with Fitz flew out the window. As far as Fitz knew, he'd just met Olivia days ago. She was still a stranger to him. But if she could call this kind of passion from him when he didn't even remember who she was, Mellie knew that she no longer had a chance. She might have had a chance a decade ago. Before they grew apart and started arguing all the time. Before she pushed him away with her anger and resentment and hopeless attitude towards their marriage.
As Mellie stood witness to the reason why Fitz wouldn't just 'get over her' or let her go, Mellie finally admitted that she'd lost him. And that if he could be taken from her, then he wasn't really hers to begin with. Mellie straightened her back and found the strength to turn around. She could've cleared her throat and interrupted them. She could have yelled and thrown things and made a big fuss. Instead, she silently walked away.
Fitz walked into the Oval Office after Liv finally made him get dressed. His lips still ached from their kiss, but it was a good ache. It reminded him every passing second of the woman who made him feel alive and nervous and shaky.
And happy.
He'd gotten shot in the head, yet he was walking around as if he was on cloud nine. Fitz shook his head, smiling again.
"Madame President, it's great to be here," Fitz said, extending his hand for her to shake. Sally Langston's hesitation was so slight that Fitz wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking for it.
"A pleasure, as always, Mr…Grant," Sally replied, motioning for him to be seated. "I was most relieved to hear that you woke up and I just want to assure you that I will continue to serve my country to the fullest of my ability," she finished.
They had met in the Oval Office later that morning as they both waited to hear from the cabinet about whether or not Sally Langston would remain the acting president or if they deemed Fitz capable of taking back the position.
"I did not doubt it for a moment, Madame President," Fitz said, smiling at her. Honestly, Fitz was having a hard time laughing. The president obviously did not particularly like or respect him but she was trying so hard not to show it that Fitz had to give her points for effort.
"While I am glad that you survived your assassination attempt in one piece, I must say I am quite disappointed that we did not get to attend that lovely funeral Ms. Pope had planned for you. I, for one, was looking forward to—"
"Funeral?" Fitz interrupted, shocked that this woman had the audacity to talk about his death so casually, as if his funeral would be the social event of the season as opposed to a day that marked the passing of a United States President.
Sally looked at him with a confused expression. She said, "Well of course! You didn't expect that we'd all wait on pins and needles, did you? That first week after you were shot was definitely touch and go, and the last few weeks left the country in a state of 'unfinished business', or 'limbo', if you will. The country needed closure. They needed to move on.
"In fact, we all needed to feel as though we were doing something for you. So, I asked Ms. Pope to take over the plans for your funeral, and she really took the reins on the project. The woman is the kind of strategist anyone would be fortunate to have, and I wish I could just steal her away from your administration!" Sally said, laughing. 'Over my cold, dead body,' Fitz thought. "But I digress. That is neither here nor there and we can discuss your staff after we hear the cabinet's decision," she finished confidently, sitting back on the couch.
Fitz, however, was still reeling. Olivia had planned his funeral? Why? Why hadn't that task fallen to Mellie, his wife? And at what cost did she have to pay in order to resign herself to burying him, to saying goodbye one final time? Fitz rubbed his chest as he thought of what she must've gone through these past weeks.
"Do you still have the funeral plans?" he asked Langston.
Cyrus, Mellie and Olivia waited.
They stood and they waited outside the Oval. All of them shared varying levels of anxiety but they did not speak or hold hands. You could hear a pin drop, it was so quiet in the lobby outside the Oval. Finally, after an eternity, the door opened and Langston stepped out, followed by Fitz. Liv stood and looked at Fitz. She watched him smile a genuine, happy smile while Sally had a very serene, very insane smile on her own face.
Liv knew what had happened. She'd predicted it according to her gut, and although her gut had been acting up ever since she handed Fitz her resignation letter three years ago, she knew it would be right this time.
Fitz had won.
As Liv watched Sally leave the lobby with dignity, her head held high, she gained a new level of respect for the woman. But Olivia couldn't help the pang of hurt that hit her chest when she realized that she'd hoped he wouldn't win. That he could be a normal person again and maybe they could have a chance to be together without scandal, without publicity. That he'd remember her, remember them and decide that it was time to step down.
In no way did she blame Fitz, but she still couldn't help but feel a little sad that their dream was slipping away from them yet again.
She turned and saw that Fitz was looking at her over Mellie's shoulder as he hugged her. Fitz mouthed, 'We did it' and Liv couldn't help but smile back in return. That smile made it all worth it. His happiness was the reason why she'd agreed to help rig the election in the first place. That same smile made all the pain and loneliness she'd feel in the upcoming weeks a lot more bearable.
Definitely worth it, she thought.
Hey guys, sorry it took so long for an update, but I wanted it to be good. Review it please!
