A/N: I'm finally out of writer's block and now I both of my jobs are trying to kill me. Of course. Hopefully in the near future i'll have more than ten minutes to myself so I can get back to my long chapters again.
For the reviewer who asked: Olivia and Harrison are cousin adjacent. Olivia is Marcus's cousin via Eli & Harrison is Marcus's cousin via Marcus's father.
I hope you enjoy this short, but hopefully sweet update.
-M
The world shrinks. No one exists in the moment but them. Not Aunt Thea, not Harrison, and certainly not Edison. Her arms wrap around Fitz's neck and she buries her face just below the left side of his jaw. Olivia doesn't know she's crying until she tastes salt. Her lips press against his pulse point. His mouth brushes against the shell of her left ear.
"I missed you, too," he whispers. His arms tighten around her waist and she feels her feet lift off the ground.
Everything she wants to say gets caught beneath the sob budding in her throat. This all feels like a dream – a wish her heart made moons ago that her imagination saw fit to finally bring to life. "Are you really here?" Her voice is muffled, thick.
Fitz chuckles. "I am, pretty girl."
His words cause her to cry harder. Her grip tightens and she begins to place soft kisses against his neck, skimming across his jaw line before her lips finally meet his.
There's no hesitancy or regret as their mouths meet. Fitz returns her kiss in kind. Much like the morning so many months back, they exchange soft pants. Her fingers tangle in the soft curls that rest at the nape of his neck while his hands drift lower. They skim over her backside and grip her hips, pulling her – if possible – even closer.
They stay like that until a soft, somewhat curt, 'ahem' break them apart.
Olivia's toes touch the ground, but she doesn't turn away from Fitz. She refuses to look away, afraid that if she does, he'll disappear.
"Save some room for Jesus," Harrison says as he slides into view, just beyond Fitz's shoulder.
"Go away," Olivia hisses, her eyes still locked on Fitz. He looks . . . different. More severe, almost. Without thinking, she traces his lips with her right hand. Her left hand still wound around his neck. She draws a soft line from his left cheek up to the soft lines that gather around his eyes. "Hi."
"Hi, Livvie." Fitz smiles. "I guess you didn't get my last letter."
A small frown falls across her face. "It's a long story."
"I know, Harrison told me on the drive up. I don't want to cause any trouble between you and your dad."
She offers him a tight smile. "I don't want to talk about him. I want to talk about you. I mean talk to you. I mean. I can't believe you're here. Why did it take you so long to write me back?"
His muscles tighten beneath her arms. "That's a long story. One I don't want to talk about right now. Can we go somewhere and talk?"
Before Olivia has a chance to speak, to agree, she hears her aunt's voice. "Why don't you let Fitzgerald breathe, Bug. Would you like something to eat, Fitzgerald? We haven't cut Olivia's cake yet." Althea asks.
Olivia knows her aunt well enough to know that Althea isn't suggesting that she take a step back from Fitz. Forcing a tight smile across her face, Olivia takes a step back. Almost immediately she misses being in Fitz's embrace. "Would you like a piece of cake?" She asks Fitz, taking his hand to lead him to the kitchen. Her footsteps falter, though, as she turns to lead Fitz into the kitchen. In front of them stands Edison. Guilt swirls in Olivia's stomach. She'd forgotten about Edison. Shit. After he'd given her such a sweet gift, too.
"Hey, hi, I'm uhm, I'm Edison." Edison holds his hand out, towards Fitz. "I'm a friend of Olivia's."
"Fitz. I'm uh—"
Olivia watches as Fitz takes Edison's hand. Her eyes drift between the two and she wonders how Fitz will finish his sentence. Her curiosity goes unacknowledged, however, as Althea slides in front of her, between she and Fitz.
"First time I've had a full house in a while. Why don't we all wash-up and I'll heat up some leftovers. After that, we can all have a slice of cake. Fitzgerald, baby, where are you staying while you're here?"
"Well, I—"
"You can stay here," Olivia interrupts. Althea shoots her a look. "I mean, can he stay here, Aunt Thee?"
Althea smiles tightly. "Baby, between you and Harrison, I have a full house."
"I can share your bed," Olivia tells her aunt. "Please."
"Livvie, baby. . ."
"Auntie Thea, please. He doesn't have anywhere else to go."
Fitz clears his throat. "I actually have a room at the Willard. I don't want to put anyone out, Mrs. Walker. I only have a couple of weeks before I have to head home to California for a bit."
Olivia frowns. "You're going to leave again?"
"Not forever. I promise," he says, but that doesn't stop the frown falling across Olivia's face.
"Well, Fitz, baby, let's get you some food. Harry, baby, you hungry, too?"
"You already know I am, Aunt Thee." Harrison makes a break for the kitchen and Althea soon follows.
Edison stans awkwardly, his eyes bouncing between Fitz and Olivia. "I – uh – should probably head back up to PG. Eli's been working me pretty hard. I'll see you tomorrow night."
Tomorrow night. Shit. Olivia's grimaces. This has been her new normal. Dinner every night with Edison at her aunt's and light conversation. Easy conversation. She's enjoyed every moment, but Fitz is home.
"Actually…" she starts, wondering how to phrase her next words so their impact isn't blunt, "I'll call you." The frown that ripples across Edison's face goes just as quickly as it comes. To the blind eye, it would look like nothing more than a lift of the lip. But Olivia knows Edison. He's let her in and she can see that she's hurt him. "I promise."
Edison nods. The tight smile on his face causes her heart to tug. "I'll hold you to it," he says before leaning forward to give her a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Bye, Eddie," Olivia says. She gives him a genuine smile as he makes his way out. The familiar hum of his engine coming to life fills the air. There's a dull pang in her belly. A slight melancholy at the prospect of hurting Edison.
"I will eat this whole cake!" Harrison shouts from the kitchen.
/
The soft September sun hugs the horizon. Olivia and Fitz sit on the top step of Thea's porch. Her head rests on his shoulder. They want to take a night walk, but Althea insists they stay put. Olivia knows her aunt is just worried about her, but she doesn't want Thea smothering her, too.
"Does the sunset look different overseas?" Olivia asks. She looks down at her right knee where Fitz's hand rests. They're practically strangers. It shouldn't be this easy between them.
"Well, it definitely does in Vietnam, but that's mostly because the sky was always filled with smoke."
She frowns at the thought of the sky ablaze. She'd seen it in 68, after Dr. King's murder, but seeing it from an aerial view? Or from a ship's bow. She nuzzles his shoulder, hoping it'll provide some comfort.
"And over in Europe, it's a lot like home. Unless you're over the Scottish Highlands. Have you ever been abroad?"
"Years ago. Before my mom passed. My dad took us to Puerto Rico. Does that even count as abroad? I mean, Puerto Rico is in the U.S."
"It counts. What's your favorite color?"
"Yellow."
"Why?" Fitz asks.
"It was my mom's. She wore it almost every day. Every time I wear yellow, it feels like my she's smiling down on me," Olivia says though she realizes she's never said this aloud before. "Why?"
"Because I didn't know and I want to know everything about you," Fitz answers. He offers her up a crooked smile that causes her to grin in return. His answer makes her feel like she's floating. "I bought that record – the song you sang to me before I left. Son of a Preacher Man. They didn't have the Aretha version in England, only Dusty Springfield's. I listened to it. A lot. Still didn't sound as sweet as when you sang it to me though."
Olivia lifts her head and leans in, kissing him sweetly on the lips. "Do you want to do something a bit reckless?"
Fitz chuckles, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. "Reckless? Like what, Miss Pope? Your aunt is watching us."
Twisting in place, Olivia turns to see the curtains of the bay window moving, but not from the listless wind. She frowns. Her aunt promised. "Are you afraid of heights?
"You do know I fly jets for a living, right?" He asks. A brow quirks upward as he waits for an answer.
"But you won't be in a jet this time. It'll just be me, you, and the sky."
"I'm listening."
"Follow me." Olivia stands, holding out her left hand for him to take. "Come on, Preacher's Son."
Fitz slips his hand into hers and together they walk down the steps. She leads him around the house and to the large backyard. Just beyond them is a large tree, old tree that rests right in the middle of the backyard. It juts upward, proudly stretching toward the sky. Glimpses of fading sunlight trickle over the leaves. A makeshift ladder is tacked to the trunk.
"Don't tell me you want me to climb this?" There's disbelief in his voice.
Olivia grins, dropping his hand and skipping away. She hikes her left foot up, thankful that she's worn a pair of petal pushers. "Come on. It'll be worth it. I promise." She pushes up the tree, disappearing into the leaves until she reaches the secret tree house her uncle and father, built years ago. It looks a lot smaller than she remembers and she's pleasantly surprised to find it still intact. From the ground it's nearly invisible. Someone would have to stand in the alley to see it.
"If I survived Vietnam just to get killed by climbing a tree, I'll come back to haunt you," Fitz says.
Olivia shakes her head at his theatrics as she grabs a branch above her head and then propels herself into the tiny shack that sits in the tree. "Come on Mr. Grant, just a couple of more steps and you'll see what I see."
He grumbles something else before his face comes into view. "You expect us both to fit in this?" he asks. "And for it not to collapse?"
"If only my dad had built it, then I'd expect it to collapse. But my uncle, my aunt's husband, was a carpenter. He actually owned his own construction business. First Black owned one in D.C. He built this for Marcus and Miguel, Marcus's older brother. My cousin. The one who was killed in 69, in Khe Sahn." Fitz nods and grunts as he slides in, just barely, next to Olivia. He's far more cramped and seeing him shove his way in makes her smile despite the somberness of her words. "Uncle Mig passed from heart failure the year before. Aunt Thea's lost a lot of people. If anything were to ever happen to Marcus, I don't think she'd make it."
"When did your mom pass?" He asks.
"A couple of months before I turned seventeen." It's taken forever for her to be able to say those words without immediately bursting into tears. "Cancer." She stretches her legs out so that her toes touch the wall from across her. Fitz's knees are spread yet jammed next to hers. They sit side by side. Olivia stares out the window in front of them. It peeks out, beyond the horizon. "Do you see the sun?"
Fitz slides one of his left hand into her right, threading their fingers together. "I only see you," he says, bringing her fingertips to his lips. "For six months I've waited to have you to myself. To be able to stare at your face, hear your voice, and just…fall in love with you."
The tears bud once more, constricting Olivia's throat. She leans over once more, the sunset forgotten, and kisses Fitz. The kiss is soft, tentative, yet filled with more emotion than Olivia's ever thought possible. Fitz's left-hand cups the right side of her face and pulls her close. He deepens the kiss, pushing past her lips until their tongues slide against one another. Her heart thunders in her chest and she twists, stretches, tries to find her way into his lap. Her hands thread through the dirty blonde strands of his hair and she's seconds away from begging him to take her right there. The words never have a chance to get out, though. Fitz pulls away. His chest heaves and Olivia pauses only seconds before trying to press her lips against his once more.
He stops her and she frowns. "You can't kiss me like that and just stop," Olivia whispers, as their foreheads touch. "I haven't been touched like that in such a long time. I might do something stupid if you keep it up."
"Don't say things like that to me while you're this close. Especially when we haven't even been on a first date yet."
"Does it matter, though?" she asks, her lips brushing against his for a brief second. "I want you."
"Save room for Jesus," Fitz says with a smile stretching across his face. He pulls back, putting too much space between them for Olivia's liking. "Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
"If you kiss me again."
"I can do that." He leans in. He traces her bottom lip with his left thumb.
She leans in again, but the sound of aluminum bouncing against aluminum halts her. "Livvie? Are y'all up in that damn treehouse? You two better be decent. I told you I don't care about any of that stuff my brother does but running around outside like that…I can't stand by that one." Althea shouts from back porch.
Olivia rolls her eyes and throws Fitz a grin. "Watch this," she whispers with a with a wink. "We're not having sex, Auntie Thea. I just brought Fitz up here to see the sunset through the leaves. We'd need more room than this if we were."
"That's not funny. Get down before you two break your damn necks," Althea shouts back.
They snicker.
"Tomorrow," Fitz says.
"Tomorrow," Olivia agrees.