Pieces

AN: Post kidnapping…this is part one of at least two.

Olivia stands holding the front door open so Fitz can exit. Inside her shoes she is squeezing her toes in a misguided attempt to keep herself upright. Her hand grips the doorknob. He is almost gone…you can fall apart then. She spewed every bit of rage and fear she could summon at him…going as far as hurling Doux Bebe at his chest. The moment of impact…the shredding of his heart when he saw her remove the band of gold from her finger almost stopped her heart. Why couldn't he understand? She was a virus destined to contaminate everything she touched.

Fitz recoils and accepts defeat. How could everything fall apart? Does she not understand the extent of his love? His shoulders slump as he turns to leave; he honestly feels like his heart is bleeding out. His left foot crosses the threshold when he feels the tug on his suit jacket. Olivia's left hand reaches down and grabs a fistful of material. She does not look at him. Her eyes glaze and her breathing is uneven…beads of sweat dot her hair line. His head snaps to the left before she drops to her knees crawling across the floor. She is frantic, "I need it…where is it…I can't breathe without it," she stutters through shallow breaths.

He joins her on the floor reaching behind the leg of the piano to retrieve the symbol of their destined love. "Livvie," he calls. Her head snaps in his direction. He holds up the ring. She stops her search, but every inch of her is trembling. He moves cautiously toward her and waits. She slowly lifts her hand. He returns the ring to her index finger and her tears fall. He gathers her into his arms and whispers in her ear, "I vow with everything I am…everything I hope to be," he does not finish because he feels her nodding her head against his chest.

Fitz climbs the steps of the Grant Family Gulfstream with Olivia cradled in his arms. He sat on the floor of her home rocking her back and forth until her panic attack subsided, and she drifted off to a fitful sleep. Once they were secure in the presidential limousine, he called Andrews Air Base and instructed the night crew to prepare his personal plane for Flight Plan V. "Abby, I am leaving for the week. I do not care what you say or how you tell the press, but I need peace, a stable stock market; under no circumstances should I be disturbed by anything or anyone unless there is actual nuclear war. Are we clear?" He hangs up before she asks too many questions.

Tom rushes ahead to unlock and hold the front door open before directing the other agents. Fitz enters the bedroom making his way to the large bathroom, but stops short when he hears her raspy, worn voice, "We're here?"

"Yes," he replies. "Can you stand?" She nods her head. He makes quick work of his jacket before rushing into the bathroom and turning on the shower to the highest setting. He returns and smiles softly before speaking, "How does a shower and bed sound?" She never lifts her head from staring at the floor, but she nods. Slowly, gently he removes the grey suit from her body leaving a pile of high-end clothing around her feet. He makes quick work of his tie, before tearing his shirt from his body…buttons fly across the room while he toes off his shoes. Soon he is standing before her naked body in his black boxer briefs. He guides her into the glass box placing her directly under the shower head. She closes her eyes and leans back letting the spray wash away the make up on her tear-stained face. He reaches out with his left hand and grabs the Carol's Daughters Goddess shampoo. He takes his time massaging her scalp, working the lather through to the ends before rinsing and adding conditioner. Before long Olivia, wrapped in a large white towel, stands in front of the mirror. Fitz uses a wide tooth comb on her natural curls. He bites his bottom lip concentrating on the three sections of hair in his hands. Over…under…over…under.

Olivia jerks awake holding her hand against her chest and her rapid beating heart. She feels the panic start to rise until she feels the cool gold on her finger. She looks down and takes a deep breath. The familiar blue block letters on the t-shirt let her know she is safe. She turns to the left side of the bed. The dent in the pillow and the wrinkled sheets confirm she did not sleep alone. She buries her face and inhales. Fitz. Her attempt to get out of bed requires more energy than she expects. How long did I sleep?

Fitz exits the office. Thanks to the satellite and Zoom meetings no one raised an eyebrow or questioned his location. He rounds the corner and hold his breath. Olivia is standing in front of the fireplace with her arms wrapped around her tiny frame. "Hi."

"Hi," her voice is hoarse, "What time is it?"

"Late and tomorrow will be our third day here," he explains. Her mouth falls open. "You need to eat, and the Surgeon General recommends soup…maybe some crackers." She moves to follow him toward the kitchen. "Oh no little lady…you plant yourself on the couch and get cozy near the roaring fire," he smiles softly. Liv does not put up a fight. She moves to the sofa and pulls the soft throw over her legs and stares into the orange flames.

Today is day five and Olivia rocks quietly on the front porch. She woke alone. He has a country to run and the free world to manage. She tried to feel more like herself. She straightened her hair and applied her favorite Blood Orange Chapstick before slipping on his Navy sweatshirt and wrapping herself in his oversized robe with the Presidential Seal. Only then did the tremors in her hand stop. He seems to accept her need for silence only offering soft, gently smiles. He deserves so much more than I am or could ever be. She shakes her head trying to dislodge the vicious thoughts inside her head. Everything in Vermont is simple and clear, but they cannot stay here forever. This is not the alternative universe they cling to when times get rough. This is the real world, and she is vulnerable and his biggest liability.

Fitz places the tablet and the laptop on the nightstand before rubbing the heals of his hands into his tired eyes. He is running out of days, and she is not ready to talk. He sighs searching for an answer. He catches her entering their bedroom swaddled in his clothing. He does not try to fight the lopsided smile. God…even in a million broken pieces she makes me happy. "Hi."

"Hi," she replies. She opens her mouth…hesitates before climbing into bed and snuggling under his right arm. His brows raise in surprise, but he remains still. "I know you have to go back…I can only imagine what the staff…Abby endured making these many days possible. I want you to know how much I appreciate every big and little thing you have done and are doing."

He tries to interrupt but she stops him sitting up on her knees and making direct eye contact. "I am more broken than I have ever been in my life, and I cannot go back. I need to be here…I think I can get better here. Is that okay?"

He nods, "Of course…this place is yours…take as much time as you need."

She reaches out and cups both sides of his face, "This place is ours. You made it real. At my lowest moments. When I couldn't see a way out, I dreamt of us here together…happy. I want that for us."

His heart beats wildly, "Okay."

"Okay," she replies, "And it is going to be great," she offers a small smile.

Fitz's smile lights up his entire face, "It is going to be great."