A/N: As promised. Here's the update. The next chapter will be the last in their first date excursion. In this part, we learn a tad bit about Olivia.

For those of you following Sleep On the Floor, the next chapter is done, I'm just editing right now.

Oh, I'll definitely be changing my pen name soon, so if you see my stories updated, but not my name, no frets; I'm still here. Just needed a change.

Hope you enjoy.

The train screeches to a halt after six stops, the marker on the wall signaling that they're at U Street. Olivia's heart immediately begins to ache and her face falls. She glances down at her hands that rest idly in her lap and bites her cheek. Out of all the places he could've brought her today, she never once thought he'd bring her here.

"This would be us." Fitz's baritone voice breaks through the haze of sadness that's wafted above her. He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for her to take. Immediately Olivia laces her fingers between his; holding his hand has become somewhat second nature to her. She takes a deep breath in and forces a smile on her face that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"U-Street," she starts as they move out together, through the crowd, off the platform, and up the escalator. "I haven't been to this part of DC for a while."

"It's fine that I brought you here, right?" there's a tint of confusion to Fitz's voice Olivia picks up on, as they stand off to the right of the escalator.

She feels guilty, guessing that he's sensed the shift in her mood, but wonders what she can tell him; what will abate his confusion and what won't re-open a festering wound for her.

"Yeah, it's fine…" they exit the station, the street roaring to life with people. "It's just…this is –was— always one of my mom's favorite places to bring me." A melancholic smile tugs at her cheeks, careening across her face, and Olivia immediately regrets her words; nevertheless, she presses on. "It was what we did every Saturday when I was kid. Ben's Chili and Malcolm X Park. Sometimes we'd go down to Howard so mom could show me where she went to school."

Fitz smiles. "Why'd you two stop coming, if you don't mind me asking?"

Olivia's gaze drops to the cement as they meander down the street hand in hand. Briefly she tries to recall when she'd last been on this side of town without her mother, but can't.

"She died about eleven years ago now. Breast cancer."

"Oh."

She glances up just in time to see the pained expression cross Fitz's features. She knows the expression well and thinks back to earlier that week when he'd told her about loosing his wife and children; had she looked upon him as he does her now?

He squeezes her hand. "I'm sorry, I did - we can go somewhere else if you want."

"You didn't know, Fitz, it's fine." Olivia promises, though the dull pang in her belly says otherwise. Twelve years and it's still not easy to talk about the mother she'd lost, though now she feels guilty for not telling him sooner. He'd shared with her his own lost, and yet she hadn't exchanged the favor.

The conversation falls sparse as Olivia preoccupies herself with silently cataloging all the changes to the neighborhood her mother loved. All around them, the darkening sky fills with the sounds of life. Music blares, voices boom, and people flood the streets. Maya Pope's imprint is all over U-Street; Ben's Chili Bowl, The Duke Ellington mural on True Reformer Building. Olivia thinks of early Saturday mornings and skinned knees from running through Malcolm X park; she thinks of trying Ethiopian food and visiting her mother's ancestors at the African American Civil War Museum. Mainly she thinks of seeing her mother's smile and hearing her voice.

Without thinking, her grip tightens on Fitz's hand. Now she remembers why she avoids this place, it hurts to be reminded of what she'll never have again.

"You okay?" Fitz asks. "I'd be fine going somewhere else."

A somber smile tugs at her cheeks. "No, no. You made plans here. We're going to stay here. I'll be okay. I am okay. It's just-"

It's Fitz's turn to squeeze her hand. "I know. I get it. Sometimes I go past my wife's favorite bookstore and... I get it."

They share somber smiles and Olivia nods. She knows he gets it, he has ten years' worth of self-seclusion to prove it. But didn't she, too? He'd hidden himself away in a church; she'd tried to fill the void with warm bodies and meaningless 'relationships.'

They move down U street and turn right on 13th. The dull ache in her stomach starts to subside thanks to Fitz's presence next to her. She takes comfort in knowing that she doesn't have to explain how she feels and that he just seems to get it. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Fitz watching her, his head tilted ever so subtly. This isn't the first time tonight she's caught him just staring. He'd done so on the train more than once.

"See something you like?" she teases harmlessly.

"I do." A burst of red flashes across his cheeks and he ducks his head.

"Enough to tell me where we're going?" Olivia bites her bottom lip and raises her brows playfully, happy to find a reprieve from the heaviness of their previous conversation.

Fitz fixes her with a look. "You don't do surprises well, do you?"

"I don't."

"Well, we're almost there anyways. Not much longer, Miss Impatient."

"I am not impatient. I'm enthused, ardent, fervid, fervent…"

"And apparently, an English teacher. What do you do, read the dictionary in your spare time?"

"Maybe…"

"Well, then this will be a treat for you either way. Miss Pope; we're here." He points to the building on the corner.

"Busboys and Poets?"

"You've never heard of it?"

"No, I have. I just...I guess it slipped my mind. It's a relatively new place. I've heard great things about it. I also heard it was impossible to get into. How do you know about it?" she questions. "It's supposedly a liberal mecca. Antiwar, anti-Bush, anti-organized religion…."

"I told you; before you were the bleeding-heart liberal here, I was." He winks and Olivia eyes him suspiciously. Every time she thinks she has him figured out even the slightest, he switches up on her. Not that she minds much; she's grateful that he's truly more progressive and forward thinking than his profession suggestions. It's a breath of fresh air and a nice change of pace.

"We're going to be waiting forever for a table, you know that, right?"

"No, we won't. Come on." He un-threads their fingers and Olivia laments the contact until she feels his hand come to rest on the small of her back. She fights the urge to lean into him and pushes her feet forward as he leads her to the door.

"Father Fitzgerald, you made it!" A dark-haired girl with pale olive skin and a baby face calls out, waving the pair through the crowd as she balances a tray of drinks in hand; she can't be more than eighteen.

The place is packed; wall to wall people eat and linger about. The crowd is a mix of old and young; Black, white, and everything in between. On the walls, there's an extensive and intricate mural of civil rights activists floodded on both sides by peace signs and images of protestors. There's book shelves, and a bar; stairs that lead somewhere; sofas, chairs, tables and Olivia hears a music. In all honesty, she's a bit overwhelmed as she takes in the restaurant and its eclecticism, but she can't help but to think how her mother probably would've loved it.

"Liv…Liv?" Fitz's voice comes at her through a fog and she turns to see him giving her a quizzical expression. "You with me?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I'm just amazed. This place is beautiful."

"It is, isn't it? There's a back room, too, where we do poetry reading and live music if you want to check that out!" The girl informs them with a bright grin as she slides the tray onto the bar.

"Wow…" Olivia's almost speechless.

"Come on, let me take you to your table!" She leads them through the crowd, towards the back of the restaurant to a table next to a large window, a reserved sign rests on the tabletop. On the wall behind them hangs a colorful painting of Langston Hughes.

Olivia slides into the booth and Fitz slides in across from her.

"I'm so glad you could make it, Father. When Andy called to let me know you'd be in, I didn't think we were actually going to see you; something always comes up to stop you from getting to us." The girl continues. "Then you left town for a bit there…."

Olivia glances up to see Fitz's head droop; well it's nice to know she wasn't the only one he lost contact with.

"I did, but I'm back. Allow me to introduce you to my date. Olivia, this is Quinn; Quinn, Olivia."

Date, his use of the word takes Olivia by surprise even though moments ago they'd been walking down the street hand in hand. Hearing date and Fitz being referred to as Father in such close proximity throws Olivia for a loop. She wonders what Quinn thinks of them; of a Father out on a date, but her thoughts are interrupted by a hand in front of her.

"Nice to meet you, Olivia." Quinn greets her.

"Quinn here is Noah Perkins sister." Fitz informs Olivia and a lightbulb goes off in Olivia's head. Noah is the school's fourth grade spelling champ.

"Oh, Noah! He's a lovely boy. Your parents must be proud!"

"I'm actually Noah's guardian," a terse smile crosses Quinn's face. "Our parents aren't in the picture."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't –"

"It's okay. I'm just grateful for Father Fitzgerald here. Without him, I don't think I would have been allowed to take care of my brother. He's a good man. I'll give you two a minute to go through the menu and I'll be back."

Olivia picks up the menus Quinn set's down and toys with the edge, her eyes glimpsing the dishes before she sets it back down. She suddenly has a million questions for Fitz.

"Quinn's a nice kid." Olivia comments.

"She is."

"What's her story? She seems to know you pretty well…."

Fitz smirks, setting his menu down. "Her parents weren't into anything good; abandoned Quinn and her brother last year. They were sleeping in the school after hours and stealing food to get by. I had to stay late to do some financial documents and caught them sleeping in the gym. Broke me. They didn't tell anyone because Quinn was afraid her brother would be taken from her because she was only seventeen at the time. And she's right; her brother would've ended up in foster care and she would've been placed in a group home. So, I helped them keep up their cover until Quinn turned 18 this past November and could apply for guardianship of Noah. Andy, the owner, is a friend of mine. He gave her the job as a favor so we could prove income. She shares a place with another mom from the school and her son now. I think she's doing well. I know she'd like to take some college courses, but she's trying to keep Noah afloat…"

Olivia listens to the story with rapt fascination, her heart breaking for the young girl. She roughly understands what its like to be abandoned by a parent. After her mother's death, her father had shipped her across town for boarding school. Even though they were only miles apart, never once did he bother to come see her except on Parents' Day where he played the dutiful dad. She couldn't image being completely tossed away without even financial help.

"So, you call me a saint for helping Huck, yet here you are taking care of America's youth…" she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

Fitz's cheeks turn a light red and he shakes his head. "I'm supposed to do things like this, it's in my job description. Single-handedly turning yourself into the VA isn't the same thing."

Together they share a laugh and Olivia rolls her eyes before they go back to the menus. Everything looks good, though Olivia's mouth truly waters for a bowl of Ben's chili. Ever since they'd past it moments ago, she can't get it off her mind.

"Something wrong?" Fitz questions over the top of his menu. "There's a knot in the middle of your forehead that tells me you're overthinking. What is it?"

Oh…could she really ask him to leave this beautiful restaurant and walk the five or so blocks back down from where they came just to feed a craving?

"It's silly; I just keep thinking about Chili, that's all."

Fitz eyes his menu, "I don't think I see Chili. Isn't it more of a winter food?"

"Yeah. It is. It's probably because we passed Ben's earlier and when I'd come here with my mom we'd always get a bowl to split. With extra cheese and onion."

He sets down his menu. "You want to go? To Ben's? I'd be more than happy to if you think it won't cause you pain."

This man really was a saint. "Oh, no it's fine, Fitz. It really is. Plus, this place is great. I can find something here and just grab a bowl later to take home with me. Huck would probably like…"

Before she has a chance to finish her thought, two things happen simultaneously; Quinn returns and Fitz rises to his feet, hand out for Olivia to take.

"Sorry, Quinn, we're going to actually head out. I've got the taste for Chili and it's not on the menu."

"I can see if the Chef would be willing to—."

"No, no. It's fine. We'll just walk down to Ben's. Besides, there's a bunch of hungry customers out there. Feel free to let them have our spot."

Quinn nods, the grin on her face unmistakable as Olivia looks at Fitz with incredulity etched into her gaze. "Fitz, we could've just ate here. I would've found something…" the disbelief is high in her tone. He's really going to rearrange their date on a whim to accommodate her nostalgia? She couldn't remember the last time someone had done something so thoughtful and spontaneous for her.

"My date wants chili so we're going to go get chili."

/

Ben's Chili Bowl is damn near the size of a walnut in comparison to Busboys and Poets. The restaurant's tiny stature does not compensate for the thick crowd that gathers around it. People move in and out at a whirlwind pace, chili dogs and burgers in hand. A small group gathers outside eating and Fitz feels like all eyes are on him as he flits through the crowd, hand in hand with Olivia. She hasn't stopped smiling since he suggested trading in Busboys and Poets for the little dodgy Ma and Pop restaurant. His stomach rumbles as they squeeze in through the doorway and up to the counter.

He's been to Ben's a total of once before and had only had a half-smoke, but Olivia looks ready to go; her eyes wide as she glances at the menu.

"Don't you just love the smell?" she asks, stepping up to the counter.

"Can I get a large chili bowl with extra cheese and –"

"Is that Olivia Pope? Is that little Miss Pope, Maya's baby girl?" An older Black man with a greying beard and skin several shades darker than Olivia calls out.

"Mr. Gaines!" Olivia shouts and Fitz watches as she reaches up on her tippy toes to lean across the counter and hug the old man.

"How you doin' baby girl? We haven't seen much of you or your daddy since Maya passed. It's been what, ten years now?"

"Eleven, Mr. Gaines, and I'm sorry. It's just been…"

"I know. Your daddy always had plans that you'd one day rule the world. He still got you going?"

Fitz retreats from the conversation, suddenly feeling like an interloper. Instead he lets his eyes roam around the small shop, hands snug in his pocket. He wants to ask Olivia more questions about her mother, about dealing with a loss like that at such a young age. She'd been thirteen when her mother died. He was thirty-one when he lost his family and couldn't handle it. How had she lost someone so important so young and lived to tell the tale? He wants to sit and talk with her about her father and about this Mr. Gaines and about-

"Fitz…Fitz."

At the sound of his name, Fitz finds his way out of his thoughts and looks down to see Olivia starring up at him. Her large doe eyes shine brightly against the fluorescent lights. "Want to split a bowl of chili with me?" she asks.

He thinks back to their conversation mere moments ago about visiting this place with her mother and nods. "I'd be honored."

"You know what to do, Mr. Gaines. I hope."

"Oh, girl. Now Mr. Gaines is old, but I'm not that old. Speaking of old…who's this fellow here." Mr. Gaines runs his eyes up and down Fitz, eyebrow raised.

The once over leaves Fitz feeling exposed; the age comment causing a pique of annoyance to rise in his stomach. He feels as if he's under a microscope. Tilting his head, he turns to Olivia, not certain what she's calling their excursion. He'd seen the uncertainty in her eyes when he'd told Quinn they were on a date. She'd made it more than clear that his chosen profession unnerved her just a bit and that she thought she's corrupting him in some shape or form by accepting his date.

"This is Fitz, Mr. Gaines, my date." Olivia answers with a smile.

A warmth spreads across Fitz's chest and a silly grin stretches across his face.

Mr. Gaines throws his hands up in the air in exaggerated fashion, interrupting their moment. "Oh no, no. Nope. Not my baby girl on a date. Haven't seen you in years and you come back talmbout a date. Nope. Won't be no chili sharing in here. I can't have it. You still my little big head…"

Fitz chuckles at the comment and Olivia's jaw falls open. "Mr. Gaines, I'm a grown woman!"

"Nah, you're my little big head, baby girl, though you've grown into your head nicely, those braids do help, I'm…" he mumbles off, laughing to himself before he steps back from the counter and calls out their order.

Olivia hangs her head in embarrassment and Fitz can see a faint pink tint rise in her cheeks.

"Little big head?" he repeats, amusement written all over his face. His father had given him nicknames as a child, but none he's fond of, nor any he'd like to repeat.

"Don't repeat that!" she hisses, "It was an awful nickname. Scarred me as a child. We all knew I had a big head, I didn't need to be told."

"Order up for little big head!" Mr. Gaines calls out and Olivia narrows her eyes at the old man, she reaches for her purse to pay, but Fitz has already pulled out his wallet and hands Mr. Gaines a twenty.

"Fitz, I could've paid!" Olivia insists. "Or we could've split it."

"It's okay, Livvie. You can buy me dessert." He moves to grab the food, but Olivia's already taken it. He doesn't fight her on carrying their food this time around, the bruise and scrape on his left cheek stopping him.

Mr. Gaines hands Fitz back his change and he pockets it and then hands him two bottles of water.

"I'll go find somewhere to sit." Olivia walks away and Fitz moves to follow her, but Mr. Gaines stops him.

"Aye, Fritz."

"Fitz…"

"Fritz, let me tell you something; that girl's been through a lot with losing her mama and that daddy of hers. She's family around here. We don't take too kind to family getting hurt…."

"I don't plan on ever hurting Olivia, Mr. Gaines. I like her, a lot."

"Yeah and you look like the type with a lot of baggage who likes a lot of dessert." Mr. Gaines says, though double meaning of his words clear.

Although he knows the comment is not meant in offense, but rather affection for Olivia, Fitz is annoyed. "With all due respect, sir, you don't know me, so I'd ask that you refrain from making snap judgements. I understand you're looking out for her, and it's appreciated, but I'd rather step in front of a bus than hurt that woman." With conviction to his tone, Fitz walks away from the conversation and heads over to Olivia. She has the large chili bowl resting in the middle of the table with two spoons, one on each side of the bowl, waiting to be used. There's a hunk of cheese covering the beans and meat with a bit of onion sprinkled on top.

He takes the seat across from her noting how she's yet to stop smiling since they walked in.

"What was that back there with Mr. Gaines?" she asks, picking up her spoon and swirling around some cheese.

"Oh nothing, he was just telling me about other stuff on the menu I should try."

"I didn't know priests were prevaricators." She quipped.

"And I thought you taught history, not English." He challenge as he picks up his own spoon and searches for a bit of chili not doused in cheese.

Olivia sticks her tongue out in a childish manner and the gesture causes Fitz to chuckle. She digs into the bowl, wrapping the cheese around her spoon as if it were spaghetti noodles.

"Really; little big head?"

"Fitz!"

"Okay, I'm sorry." He mimics Olivia and digs into the cheese, rolling it over his spoon and silently praying the cheese overload won't make his stomach hurt later on.

He moves to take the bite he'd just collected, but stops to watch as Olivia pops the concoction into mouth. Her eyes slip shut and a look of pure euphoria crosses her face. Fitz finds himself having to set down his spoon and open his water bottle as parts of him pay a little too much attention to her actions. Baseball stats and the ten commandments begin to run through his thoughts and after he's settled, he looks up to find Olivia staring at him.

She's smiling, one elbow on the table and her chin propped up in her hand, the other hand holding her clean spoon. "Thanks, by the way. For bringing me here. And for taking me to Busboys and Poets even though we didn't stay. I really did like it the short amount of time we were there. Maybe we can go back one day."

Maybe we can go back one day.

For the thousandth time that day, Fitz smiles. "Don't thank me yet, I meant it, you owe me dessert. Also, I'd be more than happy to go back with you."