A/N: I've thought about a Firsts pandemic fic off and on for the past 9 months but I couldn't really nail down what it was…I knew I wasn't giving any of them covid, that was a non-starter. I knew you guys would totally read them quarantined all together, but that's not that interesting for me to write. Then I thought…Olivia Pope wouldn't be watching all this happen, she would be IN there, she would be fixing! Duh! This takes place toward the beginning of the pandemic.


Micah, 7.5yrs – Ruby, 4yrs

For the first time in over seven years, the White House calls.

"They asked me to come in," she tells him softly, sitting cross-legged on their bed.

The call had come late in the afternoon, but they've reserved their discussion for after the kids have gone to sleep.

Fitz sighs and rubs his forehead. "In, in?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nods, watching him pace, "She doesn't think it's going well at all, the dynamic on their optics team. She's worried people are going to start panicking if they don't see more cohesive messaging. People don't understand that the science is ongoing, that changing protocols is part of the process. If we don't get that message out there…she's worried about what the loss of trust from the public could mean."

"So you'd be coordinating? The whole thing?" he asks, stopping to cross his arms.

"Yeah," she sighs, nodding, "All the messaging, from all the agencies, it would go through me. And the rest of the team."

"And there's no way you can do that from here?" he asks gently, brows furrowing.

She shakes her head, looking at him helplessly. "Fitz, it's not secure, you know that. It's one thing for everyone to use Zoom and Google Meet for civilian jobs, but classified information? The bedrock of a pandemic response?"

"No, I know, I know," he sighs, shaking his head, going back to pacing, "I understand why you'd have to go in person, I just—"

"—I'd have to be…away," she agrees gently, letting her gaze follow him around the room, "For at least a month, I think. By the time I set up what needs to be set up, and then I'd have to quarantine for two weeks before I come home again. They're working on remote capabilities but they're not there yet, and until they are—"

"Right," he agrees softly, finally coming to sit down next to her.

She eyes him quietly, giving him some time to process what they're being asked to do.

"I would be very safe," she says softly, reaching for his hand, "They have a strict mask protocol in place there, now. And they told me all of the essential staff are quarantined at a nearby hotel, they bought out the building for the next few months."

He nods, still thinking, and she lets him take his time. This call hadn't been out of the realm of possibility, but now that it's actually happened

"We could quarantine you here," he offers, only half serious, smiling a little, "I'd slip you love notes under the door."

She smiles, scooting over to sit closer to him, cuddling into his side when he lifts his arm.

"Love notes, huh?" she teases, nuzzling his chest, breathing him in, "Dirty ones?"

"Obviously."

She laughs a little, and then sobers, resting her head on him.

"You know we can't take that risk," she murmurs, closing her eyes, "Not if there's another option."

"I know," he agrees softly, moving to bury his nose in her hair.

They're quiet again for a few moments, resting against each other.

After a minute, she sits up and looks him in the eyes. "If you don't want me to go, I won't go. I told them we had to make the decision together, because the kids—"

"—I want you to go," he says softly, nodding, "I think you should go."

"Really?" she breathes, staring at him to make sure he's telling her the truth.

"Of course I want you to go. If you want to go," he says, slowly rubbing her shoulder, "Look, I'm not worried about us, me and the kids, we'll be fine. But this is going to be hard on you, Liv. That's what I'm worried about, I'm worried about you being alone for that long."

"I know," she says, swallowing, "We haven't been apart, really. Not since before Micah. And I've never been away from them that long before. Do you think they would be okay?"

"They'll be just fine," he soothes, "We'll video call you every single night."

"I don't want them to feel like I abandoned them," she worries, and her eyes get glassy for the first time.

"They would never feel like that," he says again, "We'll explain to them the best we can what you're doing, and why. But, Liv, you don't have to do this. It's a huge ask."

She sighs, and he knows what she's going to say before she says it.

"I think they need help. And I think I can help. I want to help," she says quietly, closing her eyes, "And when my country has asked for my help, I've never said no."

"I know," he murmurs, pulling her close to press his lips to her temple, "I love that about you."

She turns and puts her arms around his neck, sinking into his familiar embrace, closing her eyes as she feels his arms hug around her. A month or more without this—without his arms, without the wonderful barrage of daily hugs, chaos and kisses, noise and cuddles from her kids…

"I can do it…right?" she whispers, turning her face into his neck.

He holds her tighter, rocking a little. "I can't think of anybody more qualified."

"Not that part," she murmurs, "I already know exactly what I would change, I have a million ideas. I've been critiquing their PR moves for weeks. I meant being on my own."

"Of course you can," he soothes, "You'll…we'll talk every day. As often as you have time. You'll bury yourself in the work, you know you will."

"I haven't done that in a long time," she sighs, pulling away to scrub her hands over her face, "We've had tough cases but, day in and day out like that? It's been a while."

"It's muscle memory," he smiles, running the back of his index finger down the bridge of her nose, "That workaholic is still in there. I see her occasionally."

She smiles a little, and then sobers, smoothing her hand over his warm, tee shirt covered chest.

"I hate missing you," she says softly, closing her eyes against the idea of it.

Being apart stirs up old feelings; memories of their hardest years, their loneliest years.

"I know," he murmurs, nodding a little, "It's different, though. You know that. We'll text all the time."

"I do know," she breathes, leaning back into his arms, "I do."


'Fitz: Ready for bug?'

"Mommy, see my eye?"

Olivia smirks, just barely able to make out the hazel orb occupying her entire screen.

"Oh, yes," she says, around a mouthful of fried rice, "It's beautiful."

"What's that?"

"I'm eating some rice for dinner."

"But, it's bedtime!"

"I know," Liv laughs, watching her daughter watch herself on the screen, "I was a little bit too busy to eat any earlier, so I have to eat now."

"Oh. You're workin'?"

"Yeah," Liv sighs, nodding, "I'm still working. What are you doing?"

"Umm, I was just, gonna have a cookie?"

Olivia chuckles, still shoveling in fried rice. "Did Daddy say you could have one?"

"Umm, I was askin' him."

"Oh, okay," she grins, crumpling a napkin, "You were going to ask him, huh? Did you eat a good dinner?"

"Yeah," Ruby says slyly, smiling and poking at the camera lens.

"Are you sure?" Liv teases, squinting her eyes playfully.

"Mommy?" Ruby asks, suddenly exasperated, brows furrowing.

"What?"

"When are you gonna be home?"

"I don't know yet, baby," Liv says gently, staring into her daughter's big, expressive eyes, "But remember, you can call me any time you want. Okay?"

"Okay," Ruby sighs, resting her chin on the laptop so that Olivia can only see her forehead, "Are you sick, Mommy?"

"No, baby," Liv reassures her immediately, "I'm not going to get sick because I wear my mask, right? See, look they gave me a cool new one."

She shows Ruby her White House-issued cloth mask, which is stamped with the official Communications Department seal.

In what they both agree is their first major oversight as parents, they've inadvertently exposed their highly-sensitive child to too much news. The news plays in the background more often than not in their house, but Ruby hasn't internalized anything the way she has since the start of the pandemic. She's deeply empathetic, always thinking, always asking questions. She's routine-oriented to begin with, and being pulled out of her preschool, having so much change in their normal activities, has been hard on her.

When she'd started to seem genuinely worried that one of them might get sick, they had caught themselves and turned the news off around both kids. But it seems the damage is done, and they still find themselves having to reassure her on a regular basis.

"You wear it, Mommy?" Ruby asks, pointing.

"I do, I promise. I don't have it on now because I'm all by myself in here," she explains, "But guess what? Everybody wears their mask here. So, everybody can be safe. Isn't that good?"

"Yeah!" Ruby agrees, back to playing with the camera.

"Hey, can you get Daddy for me?" Liv asks, realizing she only has a few more minutes, and she needs to see his face.

"Yep!"

She scampers away, and Liv seizes the opportunity to quickly finish the carton of takeout, grimacing as her stomach reacts to the pace of her eating.

"Did you tell her she could have dessert?"

Fitz strolls into the room and pulls his glasses off, grinning as he repositions the laptop.

"No!" she laughs, leaning in closer, "That little stinker. I told her she had to ask you."

"That is not the story I got," he chuckles, laying back against their pillows.

She sobers, drinking in his face. "She asked me again, if I was going to get sick."

Fitz sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Do you think we're handling it wrong? Giving her the full length answer every time she asks? Are we letting her talk about it too much?"

"I don't know," she says softly, smoothing her hair back, "But, I don't think so. I think…I think we want to be really careful about making sure she knows what she's feeling is real. Does that make sense?"

His eyes soften because they've had long conversations about this before, about all of the ways she wasn't supported as a child, and how she wants to make sure their kids never feel that way.

"Yeah," he agrees softly, nodding, "Reassure her, but let her know that it's okay to be scared, and it's okay to tell us when she's scared."

"Right. I don't want her to feel like she has to lock her emotions into a box," Liv sighs, glancing down, and then up again, "She's only four, but, the way we handle this now will have an impact. I want her to know she's safe to express herself with us, no matter what the emotion is. That we'll be there to help."

"Okay," he agrees, smiling gently, "So, we stay the course. Let her know it's okay to feel scared, but that we're being safe, and try to help her not worry."

"How is she doing otherwise?" she asks, looking anxious.

"She's fine, Livvie," he soothes, "You know, we're in our new routine now, that's made a world of difference. I think she still feels like…she knows something's off, right?"

"Right," she agrees, shifting in her chair.

"But she's okay. She's happy. She's getting into trouble every chance she gets," he grins, reassuring her.

"Good," she sighs, glancing at her watch, "I'm sorry, I—"

"Go," he says, waving her off, "Proud of you."

"I love you," she says softly, making sure to give him her full attention for a few more seconds.


'Liv: Is he ready to read? I have time'

"Sound it out," she urges gently, jumping when she accidentally brings the spoon to her lips too fast, gasping.

"Blow on it, Mom," Micah says matter-of-factly, tipping his head.

"I know, bud, thank you," she sighs, blowing on the next spoonful of pho broth, "I burned my tongue."

"Do they have ice there?"

"Yeah," she smiles, nodding a little, "We have ice here."

"Are those noodles?"

"Yup. Noodles," she manages, slurping a little, "Keep going, I want to know what happens."

"Mom," Micah sighs, brows furrowing, "I'm just tired of reading."

"Oh," she says softly, sucking up one last noodle, "Okay. Well. That's okay, you've read me a lot of pages. Great job."

He doesn't normally complain about his reading practice, so she doesn't push him to keep going. He sets his book aside and then flops down onto his stomach, propping his chin up on his fist.

"Did you meet the President?"

"No, not today," she says, poking around in her bowl, "But yesterday, I did."

"Oh," he says curiously, "What did you do today?"

"Well, I had lots of meetings."

"What kind of meetings?"

"Meetings about…"

She takes another mouthful of pho, buying herself some time.

"That's a lot of noodles, Mom. It's only carbs."

She does a double take. "What do you know about carbs?"

"Dad says you can't eat just carbs. You have to eat proteins and fats, too."

"Yeah, but carbs are the best food," she says conspiratorially, winking at him.

He grins, giggling a little as she noisily slurps up noodles.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"What was your meeting about?"

She sighs and sets her spoon down. "Well, I'm…I'm helping the White House decide how to talk to people about the coronavirus."

"Oh, the coronavirus is not a good guy," he says seriously, eyes wide.

"Hey, I have a question for you," she says suddenly, pushing her bowl to the side.

"What?"

"How do you think we can get people to wear their masks?"

"Like when we practice?"

"Yeah," she nods, smiling softly at his inquisitive expression, "Like when we practice wearing one. How do you think we should ask people to wear their mask in other places? Like, at the grocery store maybe."

"We gotta wear a mask, so, umm, so we don't breathe on anybody," Micah says, as if it's obvious.

"There are some people who don't really want to wear a mask," she explains gently, watching him absorb this, "So what do you think we should tell them?"

"We should tell them that, when you breathe there's germs."

"Germs, that could maybe be coronavirus germs?"

"Yeah," he says, leaning closer to the camera, "And coronavirus is a bad guy. So, wearing a mask makes everybody safe from him. And if we can be safe, then we get to go back to school!"

"That's right."

"Yeah, so, I think the White House should tell people that it just makes people safe," he shrugs, as if it's very simple, "And then they'll wear it. So we can all be safe."

"Okay," she agrees, eyes warming, "That's really good advice, bud, thanks. I miss you."


'Liv: Can I see your face?'

"Hi," she grins, instantly dissolving into a wide yawn, "Sorry."

He chuckles, pulling his glasses off. "Hi. Long day?"

"Yeah," she sighs, rubbing her eyes, "I don't want to talk about it. Just wanted to look at you before I fall asleep."

"Okay," he says softly, watching as she rolls onto her side and props the phone up, "I'm glad you called me."

"I miss you," she says softly, through bleary eyes, "I miss falling asleep next to you."

"Me too," he smiles, tipping his head sideways to look at her, "Quarantine starting in two weeks still the plan?"

"Yeah," she manages, through another big yawn, "I'm not rescheduling. Can't be away any longer than that."

"Good. We'll need our Mom back," he says softly.

"I'm just trying to do one day at a time," she admits, blinking slowly, "The days go by quickly, but, thinking about being away another month—too hard."

"Okay," he murmurs, "One day at a time. Go to sleep, Livvie."

"G'night…"


'Fitz: Can we call? She needs to see you'

Olivia literally stops talking mid-sentence, reading the text from her husband.

"You know what, I need a few minutes," she says, glancing at the clock, "Why don't we all take a few minutes, actually. Sound good?"

The room murmurs in agreement and she turns to make a beeline for her office, shooting off a quick response to Fitz.

Her phone is ringing almost immediately with a video call, just as she steps over the threshold.

"Hey," Liv says gently, closing the door and sliding her mask off, "There's my favorite girl."

Ruby's cuddled up on Fitz's lap, blinking at her through watery eyes.

"Mommy, can you come?" she manages, hiccupping a little.

It feels like her heart is being strangled inside her chest.

"I can't right now, baby," Liv soothes, pushing her own emotions away, "But I'm right here. I know it's not the same, but I'm right here. Shhh. Doesn't Daddy give the best hugs?"

She's put her arms around Fitz's neck and dissolved into tears again, and watching him hold her tenderly makes Olivia's entire body ache. She aches both to hold her baby herself, and to be held by him, to be with her family. At the same time, she's so grateful as she watches him soothe their daughter, grateful for their closeness, grateful that he's such a great dad.

He catches her gaze through the camera and they share a sad smile, too familiar with helping Ruby process her emotions over the past few months. She doesn't always know why she's crying, but they've come to understand that it's all related to the pandemic, an outward manifestation of trying to deal with so much change all at once.

It rips Olivia apart from the inside out that she's added to the changes by leaving.

Someday, she'll understand.

Someday, but not today.

"Do you miss Mommy?" Fitz asks her softly, "I miss Mommy, too. I know just how that feels."

Ruby sits up and rubs her eyes, sniffling as she takes a few deep breaths. "You miss—hiccup—Mommy?"

"Of course I do," he says gently, smiling a little, "Mommy is one of my favorite people. I can't wait until she comes home. Are you sad because you miss Mommy?"

"Yeah," she sighs, hiccupping again as she nods.

"It's okay to miss her," he says softly, "Do you want to talk to her for a few minutes and see if that helps?"

Ruby remembers that Olivia had been on video chat moments earlier, and she turns to look at the iPad again.

"Hi, Mommy," she says suddenly, leaning in closer.

"Hi, baby," Liv soothes, "I'm sorry you're sad."

"I ju—I ju—I just want you to read, Mommy."

She's not crying anymore, just struggling to put her feelings into words. Olivia knows exactly what she's asking for, that she wants her to be the one to do the bedtime routine of book and cuddles.

"I know," Liv says gently, "Me too. How about if a little bit later, we come back on video chat and I'll read to you that way? And you can sit with Daddy? Would that be okay?"

"Umm, yeah," Ruby nods, wiping her nose on the back of her hand, "Okay."

"Okay, good," Liv smiles, watching her snuggle in closer to Fitz, "What did you do today?"

Micah wanders into the room behind Fitz's back, looking concerned about his little sister, and Liv notices he's holding what is almost certainly a ball of orange slime.

"Is Ruby sad?" he asks, fist closed around the slime.

"A little bit," Fitz answers, smiling at his empathy, "We're just talking to Mom, come say hi."

Fitz has developed an involuntary reaction to slime, and Olivia bites the inside of her lip as she anticipates what's likely about to happen.

"You want some slime? I have more," Micah offers innocently, holding up the ball of orange goo, "Watch."

He holds one side of the ball and lets it dangle, watching it stretch itself out. Instantly, Fitz nearly gags, which the kids find hilarious, and blessedly, miraculously, everyone starts to laugh. Ruby giggles and giggles, watching Micah tease their dad with the gooey icicle of slime.

"Dude, I can't with that stuff," Fitz manages, laughing in spite of his involuntary reaction to the sticky, stretchy substance, "Get it away from me."


'Liv: Can you talk?'

"Hi."

"Hi," she says quietly, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

She takes a deep breath and braces her palm against her forehead, silently holding the phone against her ear.

"Liv?" he says, after a beat.

"Can we just—will you just stay on the phone with me for a minute?"

"Sure," he says softly, recognizing her tone instantly.

Unbeknownst to each other, they both close their eyes.

They pretend they're in the same room, that they're right next to each other.

And for a minute, it feels like they are.

"Where are you?"

She sighs and looks around, biting the inside of her lip. "Closet."

"You're in a closet?"

"Yeah," she admits, sinking back against the wall, "I needed to hide for a minute. If I'm in my office, they can find me."

He laughs a little, and it makes her smile, cutting her mood a little.

"Are they in bed?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, stretching out on their bed, "We played outside for a while today, they were tired."

"Good," she says softly, swallowing.

They're quiet again, and he strains to listen to her breathing, making sure she's not panicking and trying to hide it.

"Liv?"

"I'm tired, too," she whispers, eye burning with tears.

"What happened?" he asks softly, brows furrowing.

She clears her throat, trying not to cry. "We just video interviewed a bunch of nurses. For the mask campaign."

"Oh," he breathes, closing his eyes.

"It was hard."

"I'll bet it was," he says softly.

She doesn't offer anything more than that, and they're quiet for a few moments.


'Liv: Want to hang out tonight?'

Since she's gone into quarantine in her hotel room, they've been 'hanging out' at night, if she's not on calls.

They set up a video call and go about their evening, talking intermittently, carrying their respective devices from one location to the next.

Tonight, she's looking over a press packet on her tablet with a glass of wine, and he's opening some deliveries in their bedroom at home.

"These came," he says, holding up some big plastic bottles for her to see.

"Oh, good," she breathes, squinting and leaning closer to the laptop screen, "That's my shampoo and conditioner, can you put that in the shower? God, I can't wait to use my own shower."

"Is the one there sub-par?" he teases, setting the bottles aside.

"No, it's fine," she smiles, rolling her eyes, "It's just not mine. I'd rather be using ours."

"I'd rather be using ours with you."

She grins as a couple of butterflies flutter around in her belly. "Are you flirting with me over a secure connection?"

"Yep," he grins, moving to rip open a padded mailing envelope, "This one is addressed to you too."

"Oh!" she remembers, suddenly, "Don't open that one."

He stops mid-rip, raising his eyebrows. "Okay. Can I ask why?"

"No, you may not," she grins, "Just put it aside for me."

"Mysterious," he teases, picking up another envelope, "This one is mine."

She shakes her head and reaches for her wine, brows furrowing when she comes across a paragraph she doesn't like. Their call fades into the background of her brain for a few minutes while she edits the document with a stylus, re-working the sentences. She glances up at one point and realizes she's just looking at a wide shot of their bedroom, that he's disappeared, and she gets up to pour more wine.

He comes back just as she's settling back onto the bed.

"What do you think about these?" Fitz asks casually, strolling out of the closet, naked except for a pair of boxer-briefs.

She chokes on her wine, but he doesn't notice, continuing into the room until he's standing in front of their full-length mirror.

"I mean, I feel very supported," he muses, cupping himself and tipping his head critically, "But I don't know. What?"

He finally glances at her and realizes she's losing it, laughing silently against the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," she wheezes, setting her wine on the night stand, "You just—so unexpected."

"Do they look bad?" he says defensively, setting his hands on his hips.

"No," she laughs, gesturing in the general direction of her screen, "I mean you're—this is a whole new side of you I'm seeing. You're very…defined."

"I've always worn boxers, and I was thinking the other day…do I even like boxers? Maybe I don't know what I'm missing," he muses, turning around, looking in the mirror again.

"What you mean to say is," she grins, eyeing his butt, "You're bored out of your mind and they popped up as a suggestion on Amazon."

He turns and narrows his eyes at her. "Listen, lady."

"Oh, lady," she gasps, picking up her wine again, "That's serious."

"Seriously, what do you think?"

"I mean, I think you look hot," she giggles, raising her eyebrows, "But they're your bits, you have to be comfortable. And you look hot in boxers, too, by the way. Any view of your butt is fine by me."

He laughs and gets a pair of pajama pants out of the drawer. "Thanks, Livvie."

She gasps when he strips his underwear off in full view of the camera.

"Fitz! What if we were to get hacked?! They gave us strict instructions—"

"Nobody's going to hack us," he sighs calmly, rolling his eyes as he pulls the pajamas on, "If they did they'd be very bored."

"Just—don't, okay? There are plenty of places someone could sell a naked photo of a former President."

"How much do you think I'd go for?" he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

"Fitz!" she laughs, covering her eyes.


She's breathless as the car pulls into their driveway after six long weeks, barely able to contain her excitement, overwhelmed with how desperate she is to see her family.

As soon as she steps out of the car, the front door opens and they all spill out of it, both kids running at full speed to get to her.

"Mom!"

"Mommy!"

Pure joy fills her up, and she abandons her bag, meeting them in the grass on the front lawn. She kneels down and lets them bowl her over, laughing and trying to close her arms around both of them at once. They giggle and shriek when she tips over and takes them with her, scrambling to get their arms around her.

"Hi," she laughs, kissing any little cheek she comes into contact with, "Hi, hi, hi."

"Mom, we gotta show you what we made!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mommy, I missed you!"

"I missed you too, baby."

"Mom?"

"What?"

"Guess what we had popcorn!"

"No way!"

"Mommy, you gonna read tonight?!"

"Of course I am!"

"Mom, Mom, on school, we were reading about the rainforest!"

"Were you in school just now?" she laughs, still laying on her back in the grass with both kids on top of her.

"Yeah! Dad said get off the computer and go get Mom."

"Mommy, you crying?" Ruby asks, tracing the tear tracks on Liv's cheek with her tiny fingers.

"Just a little bit, bug," Liv nods, smiling through watery eyes.

"Mom, are you sad?" Micah asks, brows furrowed.

"No, baby, I'm so happy," she sighs, cradling his face, "Sometimes people cry when they're happy, too."

"Mommy I'n happy!" Ruby exclaims, squeezing her face in both hands.

"Wait, wait, c'mere," Liv laughs, struggling to sit up, letting them roll off of her, "Just one at a time, I need a good hug."

She sweeps each of them up into a tight squeeze, savoring the feel of them in her arms, inhaling the scent of their conditioner and…peanut butter? She holds them with intention, trying to make sure they haven't grown too much in her absence.

"Is it my turn yet?"

When she looks up, it's to see her husband beaming down at them.

He's been hanging back, giving their kids first dibs, but now it is his turn and she reaches up with both hands. He pulls her up easily, directly into a hug that lifts her straight off the ground and into his arms.

His scent wraps around her and she loses her breath, overwhelmed with relief; she's comforted and exhilarated and soothed, all at the same time.

"Hi," he murmurs, humming contentedly into her shoulder.

"Hi," she sighs, threading her fingers into his hair, "Hi."

He lets her slide back down his body and she guides him into a kiss, sighing against his mouth.

"Ew, Dad."

"Hey, Mom kissed me!" Fitz grins, kissing her cheek and pulling her in for another hug.

"Mom, come see!" Micah begs, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Mommy, come," Ruby adds, pulling on her shirt.

"I can't wait to see!"

"Okay, let's get Mom inside, how about that?"


She happily abandons her phone, puts aside unpacking, and gives the entire night to her kids.

They're so proud to show her the signs they've made, the ones that read "Welcome Home Mom" in big, crayon-scrawled letters. Micah catches her up on six weeks-worth of school worksheets, paper after paper that he'd tried to show her over video, but that she hadn't really been able to see. Ruby climbs into her lap and refuses to move for anything, clinging like moss, and she wouldn't have it any other way. She wraps her little girl up and keeps her close, giving her the contact she's so obviously asking for.

Fitz has planned a feast with everyone's favorites; grilled steak, mushrooms, macaroni and cheese, steamed broccoli with butter, and rolls.

"Mommy, I'nna sit by you," Ruby announces, pushing her chair around the table so that it's touching Olivia's.

Liv grins and scoops her up into the seat. "Okay! You're sitting right here?"

"Yes, right here," she nods, eyeing the macaroni and cheese hungrily.

They start her bedtime routine early, which turns out to be the right move because not only is she exhausted, but Olivia indulges her through five books, snuggling her, reading more and more softly as it becomes clear how hard she's fighting sleep. Eventually, Liv turns out the lights and sings to her, stroking her back to help her relax and drift off.


He's waiting in the hallway when she finishes reading with Micah, leaning against the wall and smiling gently. She closes Micah's door with a soft click, turns around, and sinks into his arms with a long sigh.

Settled.

That's how this life makes her feel; settled.

This life, with this man, and these babies; their life.

She hasn't been settled in six weeks; not for one minute. In fact, she's felt completely unsettled, off kilter the second she'd stepped into her hotel room every night.

She's survived six weeks without them, but she's survived. When she's living this life with them, she's not just surviving, she's living something beyond her wildest dreams.

"Do they need you tonight?" he murmurs, face buried in her neck.

"Mmm-mmm," she hums, letting her hands rub slowly up and down his back, "I'm offline tonight. Anyone who goes home gets a pass, at least the first day. It's kind of an unspoken courtesy."

"That's nice," he says softly, holding her tighter, and then, "You're home."

The relief in his body is palpable.

All of his muscles are relaxed except for the ones holding her close to him, pressing the entire length of her body against his.

"Shower?" he asks quietly, gently nuzzling into her neck.

Her want for him is very present, but it's not at the forefront of her mind and she can tell it isn't for him, either. They'll get there—oh, they'll get there—but first…she just wants quiet, and soft touches, and the sound of his breathing. Then, she just wants the familiar pressure of his arms, and the sound of his voice right against her ear instead of through technology, and his smell.

And then she wants him moving inside of her, for a long time, until they're too tired to keep going.

"A shower sounds amazing," she sighs, nudging his face up so she can press her nose against his chest, dragging in a long breath.

He grins and gently rests his chin on top of her head, recognizing what she's doing.

"Don't laugh at me," she says, voice muffled in his shirt.

"You can't even see me," he chuckles quietly, starting to steer her down the hallway toward their bedroom.

"But you're laughing, aren't you?"

"Definitely."

When she feels the door frame against her back, she looks up in time for his mouth to come down and fit against hers. It's the kind of kiss that holds the promise of something more, without being the 'something more'. He breathes over her lips, and then presses in close, into something sensual, and gentle. She sighs and tugs him in a little tighter, focusing all of her attention on the way his lips feel, the shape and texture of them.

She smiles into it and they break apart with a soft smack; he smiles back at her and she looks up into his beautiful face, smoothing his hair with her hands and then cradling his cheeks. She traces the lines around his eyes, and the bridge of his nose; she looks for all of the different blues that make up his eyes, details that she can't see over video chat.

"C'mon," she murmurs, reaching for his hand.

They've talked so much over the past six weeks, that they don't have the need for many words now. He trails her into the bathroom and then starts the water, pulling his shirt off as he turns around. Kicking his pants out of the way, he comes up behind her and unhooks her bra, nuzzling in to kiss her neck a few times. She turns around in his arms, and he watches her eyes run over his body.

"Oh," she grins, slipping her hands under the waistband of his underwear, "The boxer briefs."

"Yeah," he murmurs, "What do you think, in person?"

She cups his ass in both hands, rubbing slowly and then giving it a gentle squeeze. "Well, they're very soft, I like that."

"Jury's out for me, still in the testing phase," he says softly, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her mouth.

She laughs quietly. "Underwear is a big decision."

"It is," he insists, grinning down at her.

"Go ahead," she laughs, giving his butt a pat, "I need to put my hair up."

He sucks a noisy kiss against her cheek to make her giggle, and then pushes his underwear off before he climbs into the shower. She joins him a minute later, wearing a shower cap, and slides back into his arms. He wraps her up from behind and walks them forward into the spray, delighting in the way her whole body sags with pleasure in his arms. She reaches for her face wash, her facial brush, and he holds her while she scrubs all of her makeup away. When she turns around her skin is clean and bare, and he's missed seeing her this way.

"I worried about you," he murmurs, pressing his face into her neck, "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," she whispers, blinking against the water on her eyelashes.

Her breasts are warm and soft against his chest, and he makes a long, contented humming sound. She smiles, pressing a kiss against his collar bone; she turns around to get a loofah and her favorite shower gel, working up a pile of silky suds. Using long, firm strokes, she lathers him first, and then herself, taking comfort in the ease of their ritual. He wraps her up again while they walk back into the spray, rinsing away the bergamot-scented bubbles, nudging their feet together, vying for space around the drain.

"Want a few minutes?" he asks, hands drifting down to cup her butt.

Her eyes close when he leans in to press his mouth against her forehead, and she hums softly, nodding a little. There are a few things she prefers to do without an audience, and he kisses her before he exits the shower, smiling against her lips.

It takes her a little while to finish up, to apply some skincare and un-clip her hair. She comes back into the bedroom when she's finished, and he's on the bed in his towel, wearing his glasses and buried in something on his phone.

"Where's that package I told you not to open?" she wonders, wandering into the closet, "Never mind."

"Hmm?"

She smiles, rolling her eyes at his lack of focus, ripping open the padded envelope. Dropping her towel, she slips the material over her head and adjusts the cups, tipping her head critically in the mirror.

Perfect fit.

She has so many nightgowns that it seems impossible she doesn't have one in this color, but as soon as she saw it—

She flips the closet light off and comes back into their room, crossing her arms when he doesn't look up immediately. Smiling gently, she climbs onto their bed and crawls toward him, and only then does he look up. He does a double take, realizing instantly that she's not wearing pajamas…she's wearing something for him.

"Hi," he grins, setting his phone aside.

"Hi," she smiles, slowly straddling his lap, taking his glasses off for him, "Did you want to finish what we started, or, did you have some reading to do?"

Her nightgown is peach silk.

Soft, pale peach silk.

"I'm ready to finish," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her softly.

His warm palms cup the back of her thighs, and she reaches down to open his towel as she settles into his lap. He's filling a little as he touches her, and she sits down on him to rock gently, letting him feel that she's bare under the nightgown. His eyes close and he swallows thickly, lips parting as she leans in to kiss his neck, nuzzling his ear.

"I missed you so much," she whispers, carding her fingers through his hair.

"You think about me every night?" he grins, hands sliding to palm her ass, eyes drooping.

She shrugs, smiling, eyes slipping closed as his hands drag over her. "Maybe not every night. Some nights I was asleep in five seconds."

He toys with the straps, pushing them down over her shoulders. "What about the other nights?"

Her breath catches when he starts to kiss her bare shoulders in long, warm presses.

"Yeah," she sighs, cradling the back of his neck, "Yeah, I thought about you."

"I like this."

He's fingering the silky material, nipping the lace cups.

She smiles, playfully bumping her nose against his forehead. "Yeah?"

"I like it," he sighs, "But take it off. God, you smell so good."

She raises her arms, breaking out into goosebumps as he slips the silk over her head. He guides her arms around his neck and pulls her further into his lap, groaning softly into their next kiss. As soon as all of their skin touches, they're swept away by it; the sweet, secret thing that they've always been vulnerable to. It's breathless tunnel vision; a slow burn that ravages like wildfire, and a champagne headiness.

He puts her on her back and buries himself in her, and overwhelmingly, she feels like she belongs. This is where she fits, here in their bed, with his breath against her neck and her walls around him. The shape of him feels like being known; his mouth feels like her truth, like the only thing that makes sense. The rocking motion of their hips anchors her, in a way that she desperately needs after being away from everything that feels safe, and she pulls in closer, and closer. Right now, being breathless doesn't feel like chaos, it feels like home

She draws him into a long kiss, pressing her tongue into his mouth. Their movements are starting to build pressure between her thighs, and she moans, arching into him.

"Ooh…baby, slower…not ready…"

He hums and slows their rhythm a little, kissing her with soft presses, cradling her cheek, stroking with his thumb. She sighs, walking her fingers across his back, hands sliding down over his butt, resting there to feel him thrust. He growls softly and slides one palm underneath her, pressing her hips up so he can grind into it more, sucking warm kisses down the slope of her neck. Her hands drift up into his hair and she moans, clenching her muscles around him.

His hips shift a little, and she gasps when he rolls across her clit; once…twice…she's lost count…a handful of times, and she comes, moaning and shivering in his arms. He pulls back to watch breathlessly, smoothing his thumb over her forehead, nuzzling his nose against hers. After a few moments he curses and jerks against her, burying his face in her neck while he finds his own release, pressing his groans into her skin.


Later, she cradles him against her chest while they recover, slowly stroking her fingers through his hair.

"Thank you," she says quietly, eyes closed to focus on the warm pressure of his body.

He hums. "For what? Sex?"

She laughs a little. "No. I mean, that was perfect…but, no. For taking care of them."

Confused, he eases himself up so that he can see her, brows furrowed. "Of course. Why do you say that?"

She sighs, shaking her head. "I talked to so many women—so many mothers. There are so many of them who are just…drowning. There aren't enough hours in the day for remote learning, and spraying everything with Lysol, and trying to keep their jobs, and keeping up with whatever fresh hell is in the news, and the regular things, like putting food on the table, bedtime, discipline—"

Realization relaxes his expression, and he listens quietly, reaching out to touch her while she talks, feeling the warmth of her skin.

"—I didn't…I missed them, I ached, being away from them, but I wasn't worried about them. You always have my back, and I just—I don't know a lot of other moms, so I don't think about it that often. I'm just grateful."

"Parenting is too hard, otherwise," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her softly, "I know there are single parents, but, I don't know how they do it."

She hums and cradles his face, moaning softly when he strokes his tongue over hers and traces her inner thigh, pressing a finger inside of her.

"I don't think I'm finished, yet," he rasps, nuzzling her breast.

"Fitz…"


A/N: I hope everyone is going into the new year safe and healthy. Thank you so much for reading! And, as always, I love to hear what you guys think in the reviews!