Whipping around, she snapped her phone shut and glared, "Who let you in?"
Fitz smirked, "The Secret Service are pretty intimidating."
"Abby must not be here," Her glare didn't waver.
"Why are you here," She asked tersely and dropped her phone on the desk, "I can handle the tape. I'm a big girl."
"Let me do something," He insisted.
"You've done enough. Trust me." She stood up and paced the length of her office. She refused to look at him. Immediately, she looked toward the windows and could see the hoard of paparazzi across the seat. She sighed heavily, when would it end? "How did you even get in here? Someone must have seen you."
"We came had dinner two blocks up at Ming's, the Chinese place that you like—"
"I hate that place," She corrected him.
"You loved it when I brought it," He insisted.
She glanced over her shoulder and cocked a brow, "You underestimate how good of a politician I am." Her lips quirked in a facetious smile and she turned back to the windows. She was thankful for the near frosted appearance. Could they see her? For good measure, she pulled the curtains shut and flicked on the lights.
"I'm laughing on the inside."
"Don't laugh too hard, you may break your heart again," Olivia sniped.
"No, I have you for that," He goaded her.
Spinning around, her eyes quickly focused over his shoulder. She was so tired of his shit, because it couldn't be described as anything else anymore. She glared and jaw clenched angrily. The team was huddled at the table and she knew that they weren't vigorously working on a case. Pressing her fingers to her temples, she rested against her desk. She couldn't keep doing this with desk. She was going to develop a heart problem from the constant heart palpitations. There were times when Olivia relished how he made her feel. Recently, he made her hurt. She was so tired of hurting whenever they were in a room together. She was so tired of fighting with him. She didn't want to argue with him every breathing moment. She missed him. Olivia struggled to sleep, because she wanted to be in his arms. She was tired of missing him. She was tired struggling to imagine happier times. The last memory was hardly kind or particularly warm. He had taken a kiss from her while he lay in his hospital bed. His cracked lips had brushed and consumed her. Despite his breathless nature afterwards, they had laughed that she had 'stolen his breath.' The next morning, she had been barred from his room.
"Get out," She snapped.
"Now," She insisted, "Get out."
"No," Fitz took a step toward her, "Let me help."
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, "Are you going to violate the first amendment? Short of suppressing freedom of the press, how do you plan on helping?"
He opened his mouth and closed it again.
"Exactly."
"I am not going to deny it," Fitz contended.
She scoffed, "No. It would be hard to deny your mistress twice."
Threateningly, he bound forward and growled, "Do not call yourself my mistress. You know better than that."
She was wild. Was he kidding? She grasped the edge of the table and took slow steady breaths. She wanted to hit him. She was so tired of this happening every time. If he hadn't shown up and ruined her wedding, she would be content with David. She may had never realized what 'could be.' Her life would not be submitted to the current scrutiny. Reporters wouldn't follow her every step and compromise her cases. Her business had significantly declined. Olivia Pope could hardly be discreet when paparazzi and news' cameras hounded her. Everyone wanted an exclusive. Everyone wanted the 'real' story. She could sell her story and never need to worry financially for the rest of her life. While her associates never said, she knew that they had all been approached. She heard the shredder going far more than usual. They hadn't brought it up with her, but they hadn't discussed it with anyone else either. She was eternally grateful.
"No," Olivia shook her head, "I don't." She pushed away from the desk and sat on the arm on the couch farther from him. Anxiously, she ran a hand through her hair. "You told me to 'be happy.' I had a real chance at that. He was good to me. He would have been good to me."
"You don't love him," Fitz bluntly interrupted her.
"I could have," She challenged.
"A man who loves you fights for you. I hear you're not even speaking."
She snapped.
"Are you tapping my phones now? Are you talking to my dog? Do you have special powers or just Thorngate? What is it, Fitz," She angrily asked, "Does the idea of my happiness make you so crazy?"
She ground her teeth, "They sedated me."
Echoing again, she had never been so embarrassed and screamed, "They sedated me."
"Olivia," He whispered brokenly.
Clenching her eyes shut, she shook her head, "No, Mr. President, you aren't going to show up, smile, cuddle on the couch for one fucking minute and make everything better."
She sighed, "A wedding guest, one of my friends, filmed it. I can watch the whole thing over, over, and over again. I pleaded with them. I clung to you. Hal had to pull me away,"
"I know," He shouted.
She jumped and blinked in surprise.
Olivia never expected him to watch it.
"I know," He added brokenly.
She stared at the floor.
"Let the White House release the tape. So, we can control it. Let me release a statement.
She laughed, "Your office has released enough statements on my behalf."
He growled, "I had nothing to do with that."
Rolling her eyes, Olivia simply stated, "'Olivia Rosen is a former colleague. The White House wishes her the best in her new marriage and future endeavors. The White House was unaware of her gentle condition, but hopes her privacy will be respected in this time of healing.' Classic."
"They didn't run that by me. You know, I wouldn't—"
"Really," She snapped angrily, "You barred me from your hospital room." She shrugged contemptuously, "I wouldn't put it past you."
"I –what? I didn't ban you from my hospital room. Don't be stupid."
"Do not call me stupid."
"Olivia," He rationalized, "Why would I keep you from the hospital room?"
"I asked myself the same thing. I made Abby bake."
"I knew that they were from you," He quickly clarified, "The next day, I asked for you and the nurse said, you had left. There was just a basket of muffins. When I asked Cyrus and Mellie, everyone had said that you and…"
"You believed them," She asked wildly.
"No," He shouted in return, "I called. I called and sent Hal. Why would I believe any of them? I am not stupid."
"I never…" She shook her head, "nothing."
"I sent flowers every day," Fitz tried again.
"Did you use the White House florist?"
He groaned.
She smirked, sometimes, he didn't think.
"Good job."
"Bite me," He commented offhandedly.
"Gladly," The comment came before she managed to stop it.
He grinned, "I am cleared…"
She glared coldly, "So, that's why you're here."
"No," He rolled his eyes, "Christ, Olivia. It was a joke. Are you that angry with me?"
"When you left the hospital? What are your excuses then?"
"I called you every—" He stopped.
Reaching into his pocket, he shuffled for his cell phone. He could feel the outline and quickly tugged it out. Grasping the phone, he dialed her number without thought. He pressed the speaker button and allowed the call to be broadcasted in throughout the room. Her voicemail cut through the silence. They quickly glanced at her mobile. It had not moved. There hadn't been a whisper or flash. Her cellphone was always set to 'loud' when she was in the office. They watched as her voicemail flooded her office and offered to leave a message. Once again, he did everyday and despite her presence, he left a voicemail.
"I love you, Olivia."
He hung up.
Anxiously, they waited for the chirp to signal a voicemail.
Silence.
Olivia shifted on her feet. She tucked her hands under her breasts. She moved away from the seat and jumped to her feet. She couldn't take it anymore. She crossed the floor and quickly opened her mobile phone. Olivia scanned her text messages – nothing. She pressed for her voicemail and nervously waited. His eyes swept over her desperately. Her heart pounded in her ears and blood thundered as she tried to block out the overwhelming dread. She grasped her phone and listened as her phone insisted there were no messages. She pressed 'speaker' and allowed the phone to repeat the earlier message. They both swallowed audibly and she dialed the familiar number without a second thought. Her fingers frantically moved over the keypad. She openly watched his face. He met her eyes painfully. The phone never flickered to life in his hand. They had been led on to believing the other was gone. They were both torn from one another without anyone's thought for mercy. She watched as his jaw clenched angrily.
Turning away, Olivia sighed heavily and shook her head. Why would they do this? They hadn't any reason to tear them apart any longer. The whole world knew or suspected what had transpired. Olivia understood. It was merely to punish both of them. She ran a hand through her, tucking strands behind her ear, and huffed loudly. Her mother had insisted that monsters didn't exist. She had believed her and then, she met the ruthless inhabitants of Washington D.C. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to him again and met his gaze. She could see the unwavering anger darkening them. The silence between stretched and tension grew. The unspoken knowledge of their discovery weighed heavily. Solemnly, Olivia took a seat on the couch. The discovery made her feel ill. She had underestimated Mellie. She doubted little that Cyrus was innocent. He always managed to have some involvement. She wouldn't question that his intentions were good, in some respect, but mostly for personal gain. He knew that acknowledging the long-term affair would destroy his legendary president. She chewed her lip and shook her head, why would they go to such lengths? They had to know that eventually they would come together again. They always found a way and that was their greatest downfall. They never managed to part for long. Maybe, they had counted on their recent anger to keep them at bay. Until, he finished his presidency.
"I told you Thorngate was being used to spy on citizens."
He glared at her and rested against her desk, "Ha. Ha. Ha."
Her lips curved into a mirthless smile, "What are we going to do?"
"Kill them. God, it's great to be powerful," He moved over to the couch and flopped onto it.
Aghast, she exclaimed, "This is an expensive couch, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant—"
"The third," Fitz added mockingly.
She slugged his injured shoulder, "Do not just flop into it."
"Yes, Mother."
Her eyes narrowed to slits and she edged away from his proximity. He was much too close, "I hadn't realized you had that sort of fetish. Is that new?"
"Are you interested?"
She snorted loudly, "In your dreams."
He groaned loudly and ran a hand over his face, "You have no idea."
She sat silently unsure how to proceed. She wanted to ask, what did he dream of? She dreamt often of him. The dreams were varied. There was a time when she couldn't nap without dreaming of him. Recently, the dreams had tapered off. She suspected it was due to her new bed partner and more so, because her memories of him were drifting. It was harder to remember their passionate moments and easier to remember the heartbreak. It still lingered. When the dreams came, they were mostly fantasies of what she wanted. The dreams were whimsical notions and indulgences that they had laughed about, visualized, hinted, and schemed.
"I still think that Fitzgerald IV would be a great name," He broke into her thoughts.
She ducked her head and smiled softly.
The joke began mostly be accident.
Olivia had entered the campaign bus carrying a CVS bag. A small rectangular pink box was nestled at the bottom and she made no real attempt to hide it. Immediately, the gossip on the bus skyrocketed. The women were overjoyed that their "campaign fixer" might be expecting. Somehow, they managed to keep the word down for weeks. Two months passed and everyone seemed bubbly for no reason. Olivia was simply grateful for their new chirper personalities and if they were nicer to her, she wasn't going to complain. She suspected it was because the votes were turning around in their favor. It certainly wasn't anything to criticize.
They surprised her with a neutral toned cake but the distinct baby shoes, rattle, and diaper stood out on the cake. Olivia, Fitz, and Cyrus were stunned. As she was handed gifts, certificates to expensive baby stores, and cards of warmth, the shower of love overwhelmed Olivia and mildly insulted they believed her to be pregnant. She really needed to head to the gym again. Nevertheless, she explained the situation was just a mix up. Embarrassingly, she explained, she bought the pregnancy test as a practical joke for a friend. The campaigners had the decency to look ashamed for their presumption. That evening the real inquisition had begun. Fitz asked tiredlessly, what practical joke? He liked joked as much as anyone, why couldn't she share? Then, Olivia had confessed the truth. She had skipped a period and feared the worst. The lightness in his eyes and grin on his face sealed the evening. Maybe, she shouldn't had feared anything at all.
They spent the rest of the evening discussing their hypothetical children.
"Inexcusable. No need to stroke your ego even more," She insisted.
Suddenly, she felt an arm around her waist as he tugged her across the couch.
"Fitz, be careful. Your heart," She pleaded and he pulled her tighter into his chest. She lightly pressed a hand to his shoulder and soothingly caressed down to his chest.
"… is better now that you're near," He supplied and his breath tickled her neck.
She smiled and released a soft sigh, "What are we doing? I am married."
He snorted, "So am I."
She shook her head, "No, Fitz. I am married. David isn't Mellie. He loves me. He wants me to be his wife. He wants—"
"Because I don't," He broke in.
"Don't what," She inquired.
"Want you to be my wife."
Slowly, she moved out of his arms and hugged herself, "We entertained that fantasy before. Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not being ridiculous," Fitz growled and tugged her close again, "Olivia, I lo—"
She pressed her hands lightly to his chest, "I know."
A hand soothingly rubbed circles over his heart.
"I heard you."
Perplexed, her brow creased and she blinked, "What?"
Cupping her cheek, his thumb drew across her cheekbone, "I heard you, Livie. In the garden. I know you still—"
"Mr. President, I will respectively ask you to take your hands off my wife or I cannot be held responsible for my actions."
Hello, hello!
As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I cannot thank you all enough. Every time that I read a review, I am so unbelievably overjoyed. I wish that this site had an option so I could reply to all of your reviews, because I would. I really am so eternally grateful. I have always wanted to write a book, but never had the determination to do so. This, you guys, really make me want to write my own novel. So, this (and now, One Day) is a test to myself. I have full intentions to see both through. In fact, I don't think that I could give them up. I dream of the next chapters and where they'll go. Nonetheless, thank you!
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
If you haven't watched tonight's episode (2x07) stop reading here:
OTHERWISE!
... what the hell happened? Was everyone else watching with their mouth open? No, really. What happened? I can justify it. I understand. I've been there. I know why she did it, but again, what the hell! Can I just say that Kerry Washington is one of those people who cry beautifully? Why can't she do anything wrong? Why? So unfair.
Also, I recently watched all the episodes in two nights (insomnia) and noticed the pattern. Things really get heated up in episodes five through seven and seven was the season finale. We're on episode seven. Let the games begin! TGoldwyn said, eight was his favorite episode. If they don't kiss in episode eight, I will officially get a twitter just to harass TG and let him know - it needs to happen or I'll die. Not even kidding. (Well, I'm being a little dramatic.)
A quick disclaimer, if he gets shot or has a heart attack in 2x08, I PROMISE that I had no prior knowledge to that before writing this story.
... maybe, I did and I am a Shondaland writer like someone suggested. (wink wink) Cue evil laughter.
Love you, Gladiators! Look forward to hearing from you. Please, review!
Xxx - S