Author's Note: Good afternoon, everybody. First of all, I'd like to start this A/N with a message to David Rosen ala Ms. Tyra Banks: We were rooting for you! We were all rooting for you! HOW DARE YOU?! And the Mole…I guess Ms. Rhimes has embraced her inner soap opera ratchet because she's bringing folks back from the dead now. Billy Chambers…Batshit insane, militantly conservative, uber religious Billy Chambers. It's actually a pretty good choice, all things considering and he'll definitely be an above average boil across everyone's behind in the Finale and Season 3.
Can we talk about the Promo? "We are getting married and you'll be moving into the White House.", a Kill Bill death squad in Liv's apartment, Cyrus' black little special heart finally giving out, Mellie succumbing to her inner denial laced madness, and most of all…Fitz getting a midnight snack in the kitchen ala magical thigh pie. I'm ready but not ready and I already know that the Aftermath and hiatus are gonna be hoots. Is it Thursday, yet?
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
Olivia squeaked as his mother nearly broke her in two in a tight bear hug but responded instantly, peeking over at Fitz. He was grinning like a loon and she could feel herself warm at the sight. She couldn't blame him for being happy. He was in a place he adored with people he adored and mercifully, his mother really did like her. Edison's mother had absolutely despised her (and it had been a two-way street…), leaving to more drama, more strain…
"Hello, Mrs. Reacher-Grant."
Fitz's mother was the same height as she was and slender. Her hair was silvery blonde and blew into glittering emerald green cat eyes with the warm breeze. And Fitz had gotten his smile from her…
"Vonnie or better yet, pick whatever form of mother you like and stick with it, Olivia. I know my son. And speaking of my son…."
The matriarch walked over (holding the hem of her mint green sundress up enough to show pink zebra striped socks) and clocked him hard on the back of his head.
"Ow!"
"The poor girl is jet-lagged all to pieces, Fitzgerald Thomas! You couldn't have let her take a nap before you mounted her?"
"Mom, I…"
She clocked him again harder and Olivia bit back a guffaw even as she winced in sympathy.
"And don't tell me you didn't jump her because I know your aftershave. It's your father's aftershave…I swear…Olivia, he inherited the Grant family's eyes and the Grant man nymphomania. I highly recommend you start taking a multivitamin so you can keep up with him."
"Mom!"
"Don't you 'Mom' me, Tripp! Although your father was a roaming bull moose in heat for most of our marriage, you and your sisters had to get here somehow…oh, Joseph, let me help you…"
"Are you sure, Yvonne?" the older man asked softly.
"I may be old but I'm not frail. Besides, we all know that it's all going to one room and one room, only…"
Olivia lost her battle against her mirth as Fitz's head dropped into his hands with a loud groan of embarrassment and she accepted Vonnie's kiss on the cheek.
"Welcome, honey. I have a feeling that we're going to get along just fine. Tripp, are you okay?"
"I hate you."
"Love you too, Baby Boy! Lunch will be at 1!" she replied cheerfully before slamming the front door of the main house shut.
Smiling, Olivia parted his fingers and pressed a kiss to his pouting lips.
"Now I understand why you and Momma get along so well. You're accustomed to madness."
"If you think she's something, wait til you meet my sisters. Livvie, I really hope you won't think less of me by the end of this visit."
"Not possible."