So this week is hell week but I decided to quit studying for exams and boycott my papers and write this. Tell me what you think


She walks through the front door, hands full with grocery bags. The house is silent so she decides to take a detour into the living room on her way to the kitchen and when she gets there, the bags in her hands fall to the floor, creating an even bigger mess.

"Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Fourth." She says it slowly, dramatizing each word with great emphasis.

Gerry turns around when he hears the clatter, an innocent smile on his face, but he quickly changes his expression and gives her a sorrowful pout when he sees her face. "Hi Mommy."

She motions for him to come over to her and he slowly walks forward, looking at the ground. She finds a clean part of his arm and leads him out to the garage, leaving the groceries in their pile on the wood floor. She takes off his paint covered clothes, throws them in the washing machine, and brings him upstairs to the bathroom to be cleaned up. She starts to run the bath water and sits him on the closed-lid toilet. "Stay right here until I come back."

She stands in the door way of Fitz's office, her hands on her hips, clearly upset. He takes one look at her, ends the call, and hangs up the phone. "What's wrong, Liv?"

"When was the last time you checked on your son?"

He looks up at the clock on the wall and it immediately hits him that it's been almost thirty minutes since he last saw Gerry sitting on the office floor with his blocks. "I'm sorry, Livvie. I got held up on the phone with the district attorney, you know how much red tape their office has." He stands and starts walking over to her.

"Are you looking into that stupid Paulson case? I thought we agreed on that; you said you would drop it."

"Olivia—"

"No, don't. Can you please just go try and clean up the living room while I get Gerry cleaned up?" And she turns to walk out of the room before he has the chance to continue the conversation.

He walks down the stairs slowly, running his hands through his hair, torn between what he knows Olivia wants and how she feels and his own feelings of obligation. He doesn't want to upset her or cause her anymore pain, but just the same he wants to find justice for Samuel Paulson and his entire family.

He looks at the freshly painted wall, blue and red handprints arranged almost in a flag like pattern; and he's not sure if he's proud of Gerry's patriotism or if he's upset that he's going to have to add painting the living room wall to his list of things to do. He decides to just paint over it now, and when he turns to make his way into the garage, he notices the grocery bags.

He bends to pick them up and notices a little pink and white box sticking out of one of the bags. He grabs it and smiles to himself, hopeful that they'll be needing to use it in a few weeks, or days even. He places the bags on the counter, leaving the pregnancy test on the island, and goes out to hunt down the can of paint that matches the shade of beige of the living room walls.

He gets the wall finished around the same time Gerry slides down the steps unaccompanied. He tries his best to climb on up onto the couch, but he's unsuccessful so he plops down in front of Fitz, making his presence known. "Daddy me too?" And he reaches out for the paint brush in Fitz's hand.

"I don't know so Gerry. You've done enough painting on this wall for a while." And he sets the brush down so he can lift Gerry into his arms.

Gerry kisses Fitz's cheek and lays his head on his shoulder. "I sorry Daddy."

He rouses the boy's curls. "I know you are buddy." And after a few seconds he adds, "where's mommy?"

Gerry gives him a mischievous smile and Fitz looks worried for a second. "She seeeeeping." And he puts his pointer finger over his lips. "Shhhhh."

Fitz laughs and mimics the boy. "Yeah, shhhhhh. Let's let mommy sleep. How about we get you some lunch?"

Gerry's eyes instantly light up. "Unch! Unch!"

Fitz makes lunch and when they finish, he takes Gerry outside to run around in the crisp fall air and to play in the piles of red and orange tinted leaves. Olivia walks outside soon after Gerry starts hiding inside the larger piles and he scares her when he finally decides to pop up. She gathers him in her arms and peppers loud kisses all over his upper body as he squirms. He finally gets out of her grasp and runs back to the leaves as Fitz wraps his arms around her waist.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you, I just don't like you looking into this."

He turns her around and guides her over to the porch, sitting her in his lap on the front step. "I know. But Livvie, I want to help him."

"Fitz, he shot you; he could have killed you; or he could have killed Gerry. He could have taken away my whole world in less than a second."

"You didn't see him, Liv. He was scared; he didn't want to hurt anyone. He just wanted to be taken seriously and listened to for once. He wants answers. And I want to help him find them."

She looks up and him and closes her eyes for a few seconds, thinking. "Fine. But Gerry needs to come first and so does your new job, not this kid."

"Of course. And I'm sorry about this morning. He was playing blocks on the floor one minute and the next I swear he was just gone. I don't even know where he could have gotten that paint from."

She laughs. "I had it out this morning to paint a cute little sign for the front door. I must have left it on the kitchen table when I went to the store."

He leans down and kisses her for a few seconds before they're interrupted by Gerry's loud squeals. He's down at the edge of the driveway with one of their neighbors, having his face licked by a dog twice his size. Olivia smiles and waves to the man, resting her head back on Fitz's shoulder. "He is going to sleep well tonight."

Fitz laughs. "Oh yes he is. And you know what that means don't you?"

A mischievous smile plays across her face. "I might have an inkling."


They're lying in bed, wrapped up in the sheets, in an old handmade family quilt, in each other, watching the fire crackle, desperately vying for warmth. Her head is resting lightly on his chest right above his heart, careful of his sore shoulder. She kisses his skin and absentmindedly twirls the soft hairs on his chest with her fingers. He kisses the top of her head, and she looks up at him and smiles.

"I love you, Senator Grant."

"I like that. Say it again."

She says it slowly, adding emphasis to each word. "Senator Grant."

He pulls her up and presses his lips against hers, smiling through the deep, passionate kiss. He rolls them over, pinning her to the bed under his body. And he finally breaks the kiss and moves to the edge of the bed so he can reach the nightstand and the new bottle of wine that resides there; he pours the first of the bottle into a stemless glass and turns to hand it back to her.

She gives him a small smile. "I probably shouldn't. Tonight could have been the night..." and her voice drifts off aimlessly.

He smiles too. "Maybe?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe. So for now, you'll just have to drink some for me and then I guess you'll just have to kiss me all night long."

"I think that sounds like a perfect plan." And he takes a hearty sip from the glass, places it back on the table, and pulls her back to him all in one swift motion, making her laugh. He pins her back to the bed and kisses her, letting her taste the wine on his lips and in his mouth and they quickly get lost in each other's presence as they try to create new life.