Reckless Abandon

He no longer recognized himself.

Outwardly he appeared the same but his emotions, his thoughts and feelings were all foreign. Decisions he once executed without hesitancy, firm in resolution, now gave him pause. No matter how hard his rational mind tried to rebel against it, other elements had to be factored in now, another person had to be considered – Olivia Pope.

But you can't trust her.

But you don't know her.

But she doesn't love you.

Even as his mind's eye traitorously continued to conjure up her beautiful face, the pre-cautions were on constant repetition; a steady and persistent hum of noise alerting him to the danger she posed. He had a lot to lose. And he wondered if in the aftermath of the damage whether she would leave him with anything. Would he be a shell of the man he was before, with nothing to cling to, a shameful spectacle of a foolish fantasy gone wrong?

He had to keep himself busy. He knew she would be emerging any moment, bringing with her this aura of temptation, that, despite his best intentions, he found himself powerless to resist.

He continued chopping food, cooking; routine movements around his kitchen. Head down, focused on his work. Tasks he could do with his eyes closed - he had performed them so many times before - he now gave purposeful concentration, anything to occupy his line of sight instead of hopeful gazes towards the empty walkway anticipating the moment she graced him with her presence.

Fitz had been with many women; as a gentleman he never kept count but the number was significant enough to afford him a keen study of the fairer sex. He knew the power a woman could wield and more than one woman had attempted to cast that spell upon him. He remained aloof, convincing them all that he was a confirmed bachelor and would remain that way for life. He believed in the motto. His name had become synonymous with the idea of an untamable freedom, which while making him elusive, also created enough of a challenge to encourage more women to try and claim him as their prize.

He knew the game and he enjoyed playing it. He was never unkind, on the contrary, he was often generous and his appealing qualities gave credence to their expectation of reformation, tying him down. Incredulous laughter often bubbled within him because he knew each one believed they were worthy enough to capture his heart when, in truth, none of them could scratch the surface.

Until her.

"It smells so good in here and I'm starved. Can I join you?"

So lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear her approach and her sudden appearance startled him. Her voice was so sultry, husky, clear and resonant. He almost cut himself.

His frown deepened as stared at her for a full minute before remembering she asked him a question. He gave her a short nod of welcome and turned his back.

SHIT. FUCK. SHIT. Don't say FUCK.DO NOT SAY FUCK!

For Christ's sake she wasn't even wearing an actual robe. She had on one of those silk kimono things that barely covered her ass. And even from the short minute he allowed the indulgence, he could tell she had nothing on underneath. Every curve was accented for his appreciation and praise – the caramel legs he noticed when he met her, the ones that wrapped so perfectly around his waist, the ones that trembled and shook when she fell apart in his arms. DAMMIT!

Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered they were supposed to be talking. Admittedly though, he was very thankful for the silence because at this moment logical thought escaped him.

Still his determination remained firm: he would not allow her to use sex to mask their issues.

Olivia never thought watching a man cook could be an aphrodisiac. But the way he moved around the kitchen, the knowledge and purpose he had, watching his large hands handle things with care and precision captivated her; she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She reveled in the opportunity to observe him unnoticed; her heated passionate stare so intent, she didn't doubt that it could burn a hole into his flesh.

She was underdressed but it didn't bother her. She knew his dress was part of his defenses. He deliberately put on jeans and his Navy T-Shirt – layers of clothing that could be a barrier, a deterrent to any hasty ideas to strip and fuck on the tiled floor. She almost laughed - as if that would deter her. HA! She would have him any way she wanted him because he was hers. She had decided to make it so in her mind and it would be reality. He just needed to accept his fate.

"I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you – sitting here, watching you do all the work. Can I help?" Olivia started to come out of the stool and move closer to him but his fierce stare stopped her. His eyes were like glowing crystals of blue light – so intense and powerful, so hungry.

Fitz cleared his throat and retreated from the hold of her enticing gaze. He was cutting much more vegetables than he needed but until he could reign in his libido, it couldn't be helped. "Uh….no I've got it….Maybe you could pour us a drink?" His voice was deep, almost hoarse, thick with desire.

"Sure, I can do that," Olivia responded easily.

She walked to the bar but used her peripheral vision to keep watch on him. She saw him walk to stand in front of the refrigerator and she almost spilled the liquor when she saw his muscles flex through his shirt as he casually grabbed the top of the refrigerator while he searched through it.

Unbeknownst to Olivia, there was nothing in the refrigerator Fitz needed except the cool air breezing from the ice box. He realized his mistake when he asked her to get up from her chair and make them a drink. It was too late for now he noticed how far the robe hiked up when she moved; he now had a full view of her ass as she walked away. He felt flushed, over heated, nearly combustible and fled to the refrigerator in search of a measure of calm.

He felt her watching him and hastily grabbed whatever he could – which happened to be the butter tray – before closing the refrigerator door and meeting her back at the kitchen island.

"This is for you…Two fingers of scotch, is that alright?"

She smiled as she handed him his glass. His frown lessened as he accepted it but when their fingers met and lingered and they stood there, in the middle of his kitchen, eye-to-eye, desire for desire, the energy between magnified in voltage; magnets almost too powerful to separate. And they knew that this was more than two bodies seeking sexual pleasure from each other, thrashing against each other until a rapturous fire could be extinguished. This was more. The power in the slightest touch told them this was more and it was rare, unusual, far from normal, and if allowed to exist and grow, it could be beautiful.

What if she can't commit to me? What if I'm not the best man for her? What if I can't give her the life to make her happy?

What if I'm not enough for him? What if he gets bored with me? What if I can't give him the life to make him happy?

Once again, the fear of who she was took over and Fitz was the first to break the cord. "Scotch? I thought you would have chosen wine," he ventured, mildly surprised at the calmness in his voice; so different from before. He briefly wondered if it was her touch that calmed him. He even managed a slight smirk.

"Well we did say that we had to talk….and THAT calls for something stronger than wine. Don't you think?"

He nodded and downed half of the liquor, bracing himself for the argument that was about to erupt. It was a shame that the moment, the brief minute of reconnection, could not have lasted longer. But there was too much between them that had to be cleared up.

"Dinner's ready, eat first or talk? Your choice," Fitz offered. The tension was coming back and gripping him full force.

Olivia watched him thoughtfully. She truly had the best intentions of talking to him, resolving their issues and rewarding each other in a way that pleased them both, in that order. But this would not do. She did not like him like this.

"You're very tense," Olivia observed as she entered his personal space, staring up at him all the while.

Fitz said nothing; his downward stare refusing to relent. Without her heels on, the top of her head barely made it to his shoulder.

She downed the last of her drink, allowed the warmness to sooth her insides and grace her with liquid courage. "I need….I need to say this to you. Because I….I don't think you know…." She had rehearsed how she would say it in her head but somehow in this moment of truth, she became a bumbling mess. This was proving to be more difficult than she imagined. In all other areas of her life, she controlled all the variables; it gave her a sense of peace and triumph to know that she could direct, guide and manipulate anything that came her way. But not him; never him.

He had become the unknown variant; the element that forced her to acknowledge that with all her pretense of power, she was weak, alone, afraid and vulnerable. He represented a life in which every single step and direction would not be controlled and manipulated by her. She had to allow for freedom; she had to break free of strategies, plans, measures and counter-measures. She had to learn to feel things. She had to learn to live.

Life was messy and unpredictable but with pain, it brought joy and with defeat, it brought victory. She had finally found someone she was willing to venture down that path with; someone she could reach out to and grasp his hand because the first step was the trickiest of them all.

She took a deep breath and tried again. "I want you to know that I'm saying this to you with no hidden agenda, no motives and no games. I know how we met was…..different and we've played and deceived each other and it's become hard to….trust each other. But I've come here because I want you to know everything that I am….who I am. I came here because all of me…..wants all of you. I'm in love with you and I swear to you that this is the first time in my life I have ever felt this way…I'm in love with you."

It didn't exactly come out as she had rehearsed while she was using his shower earlier but for a person like her, who rarely acknowledged, much less admitted any true emotions, she thought it was a good endeavor. After her shower, as she stood in his bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, she allowed herself to wonder about his response. Did he still want her? Would he still want her when he found out about her mother and her sister? Would he still trust her, love her? Was love that fragile? Once offered, could it be that easily rescinded, broken, reneged upon?

The force with which he pulled her close to him made her gasp. The grip he had on her forearms was piercing but she wanted it. She knew he had been holding back, keeping himself distant from her and she wanted, needed him to give in. So when his lips claimed hers in an nonnegotiable surrender she bowed down to it. She let him wrench every emotion from her because he required it as an assurance and she relinquished it as a solemn promise.

She was aware that he had lifted her and sat her on the counter and she opened her legs to bring him closer to her. She was aware of his hands untying her robe and venturing inside. And then she was aware that she was completely naked in his kitchen while he stood there fully clothed. The remembrance of their first time and the times before; his pattern of having her naked lying openly exposed before him flooded in and stoked her fire even more.

"Your food," she whispered against his lips, "It'll get cold."

Fitz couldn't imagine stopping for anyone or anything; he'd rather starve. "I have an oven, I can reheat," he countered, then paused in consideration, "Are….Are you really hungry?"

Olivia could hear the sulkiness with his question and smiled. Did he really think she could stop for food right now? "I am hungry...I'm starving," she teased.

XXX

It wasn't until Olivia started removing his clothes, leaving them thrown across the floor in route to the bedroom that he fully comprehended her hunger was for him.

Their sexual encounters had always been mind-blowing, life-altering and amazing but not like this. It was almost as if that last, final part of her – the part that she held back due to fear or self-preservation – was being liberated. She was letting him see all of her; allowing herself the freedom to be with him, to truly love him, without caution or reservation; trusting him with everything.

God he is magnificent, Olivia thought as she openly admired the beautiful naked man before her.

Fitz laughed. Olivia realized her faux pas and chuckled, "Oh shit, did I say that out loud?"

When the levity subsided, a more serious note took over. Caressing her face, he expressed, "Livvy…..I know we need to talk, I know there are things you need to say but what I feel for you….how I love you is not going to change. It's never going to change." He didn't know how he was so certain; how he could speak in such definitive terms about the constancy of his feelings for her in the foreseeable future but he could. In all his years of living, he had never felt that deep, rich, all-encompassing feeling that came from her. It was unrealistic, irrational and illogical but it was real and now that he had it, he could not live without it.

It was exactly what Olivia needed to hear; the license she needed to exercise her authority over his body. "Get on the bed," she demanded, "Sit up against the headboard."

When he complied, her eyes focused on his erection, so full and thick; it beckoned her.

Fitz forced himself to be patient but the anticipation of watching her come over his body was building rather rapidly. A man who had schooled himself in the art of self-control - never allowing a woman's body, not matter how enticing, to make him loose himself or break him down - was now about to relinquish his mastery.

Olivia moved her hair to the side; she wanted him to see her every movement. Her tongue trailed the base of his shaft and she heard his sharp intake of breath. Slowly, deliberately, agonizingly, she trailed her tongue along the base, allowing herself to savor the taste of him.

Her tongue traveled from the base to the tip. The cruel woman was bent on torturing him. Fitz thought his eyes crossed. "Livvy…." he groaned.

When her tongue swirled around his tip over and over again, he thought death would have been a reprieve. He fisted the sheets as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. "Livvy….please baby…"

She tasted his pre-cum and allowed her warm breath to embrace his penis. "Was it a promise?" she whispered.

He had no idea what she was talking about and frankly he had no ability to focus on anything other than getting her to take him fully into her mouth. He had never begged a woman for anything but the sight of her beautiful lips surrounding him was enough to make him beg unabashedly.

"Tell me Fitz…were you promising to stay with me no matter what?" Olivia breathed as her tongue traveled up and down his shaft repeatedly.

"Wh…what?" he squirmed.

She allowed her warm mouth to encase his tip before giving him the moment of pleasure at the feel of her taking him in entirely. "Oh gawd…Livvy...aaahhhhhhhh."

She released him prematurely and asked again, "Tell me, Fitz. Promise me."

This time he heard. He would have given her the sun, the moon and everything in between if only she would give him what he needed. "FUCK…..Yes Livvy….I promise, I promise."

She did that swirl thing again with her tongue and demanded, "Say the words Fitz."

The combination of anticipation and deprivation created such a powerful desire within him that he thought he couldn't handle it. He almost thought it was too much; it felt too good; he wanted it too badly. "I promise…I promise FOREVER…..please Livvy."

She smiled against his pulsating member, watching as he became unhinged as she bobbed her head up and down on him; tightening her jaws to suck him dry.

Fitz held on as long as he could but he lost all control and his moans wracked through his body as he came into her mouth.

Olivia smiled inwardly; secretly applauding her bravado. She needed to feel her control over him; to bend him to her will; to know that he would willingly, trustingly succumb to her dominion. It wasn't just about sex, it was about how much he trusted her; how far he could go with her; how much power he could abdicate – her domination required his submission.

When his strength returned he pulled her against him, becoming lost in the pool of dancing, victorious orbs. If this was her winning, he would gladly lose to her every single day of his life.

"God…..you are the most beautiful woman in the world," Fitz said slightly mystified by her bewitching affect over him.

XXX

She had no idea that she had become his muse; a deep well, overflowing with the source of his passion and spirit. She was a reflection, a physical manifestation of everything he desired from within; everything that moved and inspired him. And he would watch her, catching her light, searching through every facet, looking for the secret she held inside. The treasure she held that captured his heart entirely. She had become a living work of art – priceless, invaluable.

"It was your smile," he answered to the unasked question.

They sat picnic style in front of the glass windows under the gloriously illuminated full moon, one single flickering candle shared between them.

"What?" Olivia asked as she sipped on the wine he poured for her to accompany their meal. He had that look about him again, where she knew he was looking past the woman she presented to the world and skillfully delving into the secret person of her heart.

"It's superficial….the answers people give as to what attracted them to each other, usually it's some type of physical feature or materialistic possession that can disappear or diminish over time. But with you, when I first met you, sat next to you at the bar…it was your smile. I didn't know it at the time," he continued to explain as he reclined on the floor, stretching out on his side and propping his head up in his hand.

Once again Olivia compared his body to the Greek statues of the male form, subconsciously licking her lips in admiration.

"I didn't know it at the time….but I watched the degrees to your smile, sometimes brief, fleeting, barely even noticeable…you're hiding your true feelings, a defense; sometimes it's sarcastic, condescending or not genuine…a diversion because you don't trust the people around you. But I can tell now, I can see the difference. It was that first smile - so unlike what you give to others - unguarded, open, curious and searching, that intrigued me. It made me want you in a way I had never wanted another woman."

As he spoke, one finger trailed an invisible line from her knee, up her thigh almost reaching her core but stopping just short of the goal.

Olivia was in a trance; she watched his mouth form the words, listened to the sound of his voice and became spellbound. She had no response to give; speech failed; her brain refused to operate, as nothing came to her mind but pure amazement.

"Come here," he commanded. The richness of his voice sent quivers through her body. She smiled coquettishly and bit her lip; round three was about to commence.

"What would you say if I told you I've drawn you, just like this…beautiful, skin on fire, glowing from my touch?"

As she looked up at him, Olivia's eyes were watering in heightened fever; his hands gracing every curve, every crook of her body; lingering in certain places barely ghosting over others. The way he could control her desire with his voice was magnificent. She could feel the wetness forming at sight, feel and sound of his nearness.

"What if I said I didn't need you to pose for me…the vision of you so imprinted within me that I could re-create you from my mind's eye? I could see you as if you were right in front of me, as if I could reach out and touch the most intimate parts of you," he whispered as his fingers explored her folds, smiling at the evidence of her response. He stroked her expertly causing Olivia to instinctively open her legs wider in wanting.

"I can almost capture your passion Livvy," he moved between her thighs, "the way you open up to me, give your body to me but what I can't capture is the taste of you. I can't settle for memory, I need to have the real thing."

Olivia's arousal was so potent she almost came at the mere feel of his breath against her swelling flesh. He had fucked her with words. How could he do that? She was holding her breath, forgetting what to do with herself. "Breathe Livvy," he gently instructed.

It was shallow, coming out in spurts, pants, gasps, moans, screams. His tongue circling her clit, tasting her completely; his teeth grazing her sensitive skin; his mouth sucking at her created a frenzy within. Then his tongue surged inside, paused, moved rhythmically – fast then slow, then fast again. Olivia died, was reborn and died all over again.

When he finally filled her with this thickness, she found the strength to lift her body up and straddle his lap. She wanted to look in his eyes. She wanted to see him. Who was this man that could so easily send her emotions into a tailspin of explosive, rapturous avid desire?

She may have collapsed after he came inside her, she didn't know. She lost all consciousness of the outside world.

XXX

"You're awake….are you okay?"

It was a little after 2AM. Olivia chuckled at his groggy voice, full of worry and disturbed from sleep. Somewhere in the night, he must have carried her to bed.

"I was just getting a cup of water," she explained.

"I'll get it….you….you don't move," he said as he got out of bed before she could protest.

She watched his statuesque body move across the room in admiration.

"You thought I was leaving you, didn't you?" Olivia accused as she accepted the glass of water. "You felt me moving and you assumed I was leaving you."

Fitz sighed as he resumed his position in bed. He waited until she drank the last of her water before moving her body to mold to his as he spooned her from behind.

"Can you really blame me?...I told you I loved you, you told me you needed me and the next morning you're gone and I don't see you again until you're sitting with the police interrogating me for theft…..You can understand why I thought I couldn't trust you."

"And you can understand why I didn't trust you. We're barely back from Costa Rica and I find you on a date with another woman. I don't even want to think about what you were planning to do with her that night if I hadn't shown up and interrupted your plans…Would you have fucked her?" Olivia tested.

Her insecurity was showing and she was thankful for their position and the darkness cloaking them.

Fitz squeezed her once, "Livvy… Stop it," he responded firmly. "I had no such intention. The date was a favor arranged a while ago, that's it. It was an obligation. I told you before and I didn't lie….I don't want any other woman but you."

She smiled with pride. She was gradually becoming accustomed to the feeling such words created within her; learning to trust those feelings; accepting them and not running from them.

She pressed further. "Well and then there were the pictures, also taken shortly after our return from Costa Rica…." She waited to feel the tension in his body. She waited for the sign of nervousness or anxiety at her statement. Fitz's relationship with her sister, Sabrina, was still and anomaly. She would not have believed there was anything sexual between them but her sister was gorgeous and from the pictures, it was clear that some type of affection existed.

She was about to turn at Fitz's silence, press him for more information about her sister, when suddenly she felt the rumble of laughter vibrating his chest at her back.

"Were you jealous of the pictures Livvy?" he teased.

An ugly word that immediately put her on the defense. "What!...I'm not jealous!…What you do…who you do it with is none of my business. I have no claims on you." The statement was filled with nothing but lies, the exact opposite of what she was feeling. It pained her to say it but she thought it was what she should have said.

Without warning, Fitz flipped her on her back and came over her. Even with the streaks of moonlight barely illuminating the room, she could tell the playful chat had concluded. He was now serious; his eyes unrelentingly seizing hers. "Olivia, I know how to stay hidden and I know when to be seen. I know exactly when people are taking pictures of me. I let the pictures be taken."

"What?...Why?"

"Because I knew he would show them to you. I knew he would use them to try to turn you against me. I just didn't figure you would be so easily swayed to his side."

"I already told you, I was not on his side! But why stage the photos for my benefit….Why do that?"

He paused, gauging whether this was the right time to express his thoughts but if he wanted honesty from her he would have to give it as well. "I needed to know…I've always known how I felt about you, about us. I know what I want and who I want it with. But you?….I needed to know if it was just about the painting with you; if all of this was just about you recovering the painting and going back to your life. I needed to know if me being with another woman would affect you. I needed to know if you really cared….for me."

The curl falling on his forehead and the quiet uncertainty in his voice gave him a boyish appeal. And Olivia was overwhelmed with the feeling to hold him, comfort him, and assure him that he was everything she needed and more.

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed his lips – soft, warm, inviting. It wasn't a kiss filled with raging passion, as was their custom. This kiss was endearing, promising; giving them permission to be vulnerable together, full knowledge that it wouldn't be used as a weapon but appreciated as a priceless gift.

"You're wrong Livvy," he whispered against her lips, "You have all claims and rights over me. When I tell you I love you it means I'm giving my life to you. Everything about me belongs to you….tell me you understand."

"I….I understand," she was choked with emotion, tears streaming down her face; her heart bursting with a foreign, intense, gripping feeling that she now knew to be love.

She wondered at him not demanding the same vow from her but she realized that her sentiments of love would have to come voluntarily, it was the only way he would accept it. He wouldn't force her to acknowledge something she didn't truly feel.

She felt his erection and despite her soreness, she guided him inside her; her moisture easing his path. They moved slowly together, languishing in the moment.

She did feel the same, perhaps even more so, but her inexperience left her feeling inept and searching for the right words. She hoped that in their love-making, she could communicate effectively. "Tell me you understand" she now said to him as they continued in their sensual rhythm.

"I understand," he whispered in her ear.

XXX

"I'm not the man who you think I am," he said as he poured her a cup of coffee the following morning.

It was time to talk; the time for truth. Gallantly, he went first.

He had her full attention as he took the seat across from her on the balcony table. "I had finished two stints in the Navy before I got the call; an offer for a new assignment. It wasn't really an offer though because I didn't have the option to say 'No'. I was to work for the government in….another capacity. I take orders and receive missions. I'm not an art thief….I mean I am but only because it's part of my assignment. I don't look like it but I am a soldier, property of the US Government."

Olivia was blinking rapidly. This was the last 'truth' she expected. He was staring at her waiting for a response but the questions firing off in her brain left her mute. The implications of this disclosure didn't give her relief, it created a massive weight pressing upon her and she needed to time to figure out what it all meant to her…..to them.

"Are…..are you supposed to be telling me this?" Olivia asked. She knew that he had given her the more palatable version. She knew the truth was much darker and a great deal more dangerous. And likely, for her protection, there were significant details he intentionally omitted in his abbreviated version. Still she knew the severely edited explanation was something carefully hidden from public knowledge; the persona created for him had been too skillfully crafted.

"No."

In panic, more for him than herself, Olivia's eyes immediately began to dart around the room. If he was the property of the government, they would keep watch over their investment, which could include surveillance. And acting out of protocol, breaking silence, could result in terminable consequences.

Fitz gave her a reassuring smile, "Relax Olivia….it's not like that. You're safe….we're safe."

"I'm not worried," she lied, "Please continue….."

As he was about to explain, his phone started to ring and after checking the caller ID, he apologetically excused himself to the bedroom to accept the call.

"Is everything alright?" Olivia asked when he returned. He had become solemn; his face had paled.

He finally looked at her as if he just noticed her presence. "Uh….yeah. I just, I'm sorry but I have to go. I'm so sorry. Have dinner with me tonight, please."

Before she could even say 'Yes', he was gone.

XXX

Through the glass doors of her office, Olivia watched her team pack up their files and equipment. They would be leaving in a couple of days. Everything had been arranged; the painting would be restored, the insurance company and the museum would be satisfied and her team would be compensated.

She had assured her team that everything had been resolved, at least as far as they were concerned. Meanwhile, her own life was still filled with questions, with no answers. It was strange but when she was in Fitz's commanding presence, everything seemed less ambiguous, less murky, less uncertain and less fearful. But when they were apart, all those meandering feelings came flooding back. He had become her constant; the force of a steady, assured future. Without him, the assurances began to fade.

Was she expected to go back home pack up all her belongings, close her business and go with him? Go where? Do what? Be what? And what about her team? What would they do without her? Where would they go? She had fostered a dependency on her, a semblance of a family which she realized, as an orphan, was more for her benefit than for theirs.

"You were once in the military…Can I…can I ask you something?" Olivia asked tentatively as she walked into Huck's workspace and closed the door behind her for privacy.

He paused from packing his electrical equipment and gave her his attention. His facial expression never changed; his gruff features giving the impression of lack of fellow feeling but Olivia knew different. Huck's feelings ran just as deeply as anyone else but he had been trained, by force and necessity, to suppress them.

His silence was permission to continue.

"When you were recruited from the Marines how did you.…how were you able to have a family? A wife?"

She knew she could never disclose Fitz's true employment, not even to Huck but somehow she felt like Huck had already discerned the truth.

"I wasn't. I couldn't. I couldn't tell her the truth and leading the two lives was too hard. She became suspicious and I couldn't be honest. It hardened me. I couldn't be….normal with her. I had to leave. It was….I was too dangerous."

"But you could've told her right? She would've kept your secret, I'm sure. If you wanted to, you could have told her."

"Not unless I wanted her to die. The directive is implicit and non-negotiable."

He said nothing else. He silently communicated his caution, warning her to be careful, encouraging her to compartmentalize emotion, as she always had, and deal in reality, rational thought.

"Goodnight Huck."

XXX

She was purposely delaying. She was supposed to meet Fitz for dinner. Yet, she was still sitting in her office alone. Her team had already gone home for the day but here she remained. She felt a cloak of solace as she sat here, waiting for the emotional ambivalence to pass, desperately hanging on the final strings of confidence she possessed only hours before.

She gave up. She needed to see him. It was pointless to think otherwise; she needed him.

"Was it your plan from the beginning? To make me believe we could work together, be together, while you screwed me over and took his side?"

Olivia jumped. She was just about to get in her car when she heard his unwelcome, accusing voice from behind her.

"Why are you still following me?"

His scornful laugh sent chills through her. He came closer. "You humiliated me Olivia. You took his side over mine and made me look like a fucking idiot!...What did you do it for?"

She could now smell the alcohol reeking from his pores. He was disgusting. "You're drunk Jake….you need to get away from me, right now!"

When he pressed closer, Olivia's mind began working overtime seeking an escape. He was unpredictable and wounded; there was no telling what he would do to her. "What did you do it for? So you could become his whore! You wanted him that bad!...You couldn't wait to get him between your pretty little thighs could you?!..I was a good cop and YOU got me suspended, you bitch!"

Olivia's anger ignited; there were only so many insults she was going to take. "I didn't get you suspended. You ARE a fucking idiot; you did it on your own. You're a ridiculous failure who doesn't deserve the badge anyway. You should've been a man and got the job done, instead of looking to me to save your weak ass case!"

He advanced on her, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her against the car. His eyes were rabid with rage; his mouth snarling as he hissed in her face, "Bitch!...You wanna know the kind of man I am! You wanna feel a real man!"

The grip on her throat was tightening and Olivia thought she might pass out. She clawed and kicked as much as she could but all sound was cut off. He moved in to kiss her and she almost gagged as she turned her face away from him. Fear gripped her and she closed her eyes to block out his face distorted with evil.

"Let her go…right now!" A gun cocked. "What you feel at the back of your head is my gun…if you don't let her go right now, I will kill you, you sick son of a bitch….Let her go!"

Slowly, Jake released her throat. Olivia fell against the car, struggling for air as a fit of coughing came over her. Before Jake could turn to identify Olivia's savior, the butt of the gun was used to knock him out cold.

Sabrina's gun was still raised, ready to kill Jake as he lay motionless on the ground.

"No…don't….please," Olivia rasped. She didn't want her sister to commit murder on her account. "Please Sabrina."

It took a minute for Sabrina's adrenaline to calm and she finally put her gun away.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," she said as she helped her sister stand.

"Thank you Sabrina….thank you."

XXX

When Olivia realized her protestations were falling on deaf ears she gave up. Her sister was in charge and all she could do was follow along.

"You have a key?!...He gave you a key?!" Olivia said, her voice strained and hoarse but the irritation was evident.

Sabrina boastfully smirked at her. "Of course I have a key." She opened the door and ushered Olivia inside.

A sudden timidity took over and Olivia not only felt like an intruder but she realized that she hadn't yet told Fitz about her relation to Sabrina. It was a conversation they should have had alone, in private, not under the watchful prying eyes of others.

When they entered, they found Fitz standing on the balcony, his back to them, talking on the phone, dressed for dinner. He was waiting on me, Olivia thought regretfully. She took a deep breath knowing whatever happened next, it wouldn't be good.

"Fitz!" Sabrina called out.

He turned, ready to tell her to give him a minute to finish his call but the moment he saw Olivia, he froze. He abruptly ended his call and walked back inside.

"Livvy?...What happened to you? Who did this to you?" The worry etched in his face and his voice filled with emotion made tears well up in Olivia's eyes in response. Her hands immediately went to her throat; she didn't know the impressions of Jake's fingers were already present and visible. She didn't expect her well-being to be his first concern; she expected anger that she had hidden the revelation of her sister from him.

Overwrought with emotion, she couldn't speak. Sabrina spoke up, "The asshole attacked her in the underground lot at her job. It was good that you called me to start watching over her."

Fitz immediately went to her, touching her face gently, afraid he would hurt her more. He searched her tear-filled, questioning eyes, while addressing Sabrina, "Did you kill him?" He asked the question so calmly as if it was an everyday inquiry. Inside he was seething, struggling to hold on to pieces of sanity. What if he hadn't called Sabrina? What would Jake have done to her?

"She wouldn't let me," Sabrina explained with a shrug of dismissal.

Fitz shot her a fierce glance that Olivia couldn't interpret. It seemed to be one of disappointment.

"Are you okay Livvy? Are you okay?" His voice changed when he addressed Olivia and the loving concern was evident.

"I'm fine Fitz….I promise, I'm fine," Olivia rushed to assure him. He smothered her in a tight embrace.

Sabrina had never seen this side of Fitz. The fear that engulfed him at the sight of an injured Olivia was unlike any she had ever witnessed. The depth of his feelings for her sister was clear, distinctive. So unfamiliar she was with the interchange, it was a bit disconcerting to observe. She retreated to the kitchen for a drink.

When she finally got Fitz to release her, Olivia asked, "You sent her to watch over me?"

"I did," he answered unapologetically.

Olivia stared at him. "How long have you known?" she demanded.

"Since Costa Rica."

"It was the information they brought to you," it was a statement of realization.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was waiting. I wanted YOU to tell me. Why didn't you tell me?" He asked so softly as if he was hurt that she couldn't trust him with the knowledge of who her mother and sister were. It made Olivia cry even more. She collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion taking over.

"I didn't know….and I was afraid you….." she couldn't finish her thought.

He sat next to her. Taking her hands in his, he kissed her forehead. "I love you Livvy, nothing's going to change that."

Her face fell into the crook of his neck, inhaling his wonderful scent; a balm soothing the harsh events of the evening.

After a few moments, Olivia sat up, "I'm a mess. I need to freshen up, I'll be back." She stood up, kissed Fitz on the lips and went to the bathroom. She gave a small smile of appreciation to her sister on her way.

When she was out of earshot, Fitz's entire demeanor hardened. He took his gun from the drawer and secured it in the waistband in the back of his pants. He instructed Sabrina, "Watch her….I'll be back."

"She won't be happy."

Fitz spared her a final look before her went out the door.

When Olivia came out of the bathroom, she looked around and asked, "Where's Fitz?"

"Are you hungry?...I'm starving. I don't cook, do you? I could order a pizza though," Sabrina deflected.

"Where is he, Sabrina?" Olivia pressed; suspicion taking over.

"He's gone….My guess would be he's gone to kill the asshole….What do you like on your pizza?"

(A/N: Our prayer circles have worked! They worked, our Scandal is coming back. #HOPEFULLY. LOL This past episode was like #LIFEReceived. It was wonderful on sooo many levels. First and foremost was PHONEGATE! Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III is beyond everything. Is it any wonder why we love this man? Why we write stories about this man? He is AMAZING! I love him. This phone call was proof that these two people either need to be together or be alone because no one else will do and relegating them to these horrible relationships with other people is meaningless and to me, a waste of my time. Come on, let's get this show on the road because eventually, we need to see OLITZ's dynamic when they don't have the marriage and Mellie, hanging over them. We need to see who they can really be to each other when their only obstacle is each other. I still contend and this is just my opinion, that Fitz's marriage IS NOT Olivia's biggest issue. I think Olivia has some internal issues and an inability to love that prevents her from pursuing this relationship full on. So for me, it will be interesting to see how the show addresses that.

Also, I absolutely loved the Liv/Tom convo and the reference to Helen of Troy. It is one of my favorite Greek Mythology stories and the meaning behind the reference is awesome. I'm so excited to see how they play this out. THIS is the Scandal I love (notice that there was little to no Jake!YAY! no forced love triangle!YAY). If they keep going down this road, I will be beyond pleased.

Anyway hope you all enjoyed it too.

I can't say for certain which story I will update next. All of them are at least partially written on my computer, its just a matter of which ideas come to me first. Honestly, I don't know what possessed me to start multiple stories on here. What was I thinking? LOL

Thanks again for reading. And a HUGE thanks to all the Scandal fan fic writers who remained faithful to their updates and stories even when the show let us down. I wish I could've pushed past it but I just couldn't and I applaud those of you who could.

Have a great week!