A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update, loves. I haven't abandoned anything. I've spent the last couple of weeks in the hospital and my health right now is just all in the dirt. I even had surgery on my birthday. Long story short, it's been rough and my rehab has been shaky, which has meant time away from the things I love, like writing. Buuuut I did manage to get this out when I probably should've been sleeping nonetheless. Anyways, happy Scandal Thursday, I think? I'm only just starting to get slightly emotional about the end bc I haven't really been into the show heavily since s2. The finale will be bittersweet, though, but here's to hoping it'll at least be decent.

and oh...I got into graduate school! yaaaaay.

thanks for sticking around.

i might've busted a bubble here...please don't kill me. on the bright side, a question is answered?

She what?

Between the high of his orgasm and the feel of Olivia against his chest, Fitz isn't sure he can trust his ears. His hands still against the material of her t-shirt and he tilts his chin downwards in hopes of catching a glimpse of her face to gauge her thoughts. His eyes till over the slope of her nose as Olivia looks up. Her dark eyes are wide with fear and laced with uncertainty.

I think I'm falling in love with you.

A gaping silence passes between them and Fitz mulls over each word in his head. Four words sit at the tip of his tongue, but he's so cut off guard by her admission that he doesn't know how to confess his; he feels the same way.

Olivia's become such a large part of his existence that without her, he isn't certain he can function. Every emotion in him is controlled by the look on her face. He needs her. At times he feels like he can't breathe without her. He needs her so much sometimes that he can't sleep without at least hearing her voice.

He feels the same.

I think I love you, too. I think - I am in love with you, too.

He isn't quick enough and his untimely silence fails him.

Olivia scurries out of his arms and he groans at the loss of intimate contact.

"I shouldn't have said it, I'm sorry. Don't...don't feel like you have to say it back. Please don't say it back," she says as she hurries out of the bedroom. Minutes later he hears the bathroom door close and the sound of water running.

Fitz sits up, confused, the entire hour is a blur. From the train ride, to the restaurant, to the sex and then love making… He swears he has whiplash. A tired yawn slips from Fitz's lips and he stands to find his boxers. They're on the floor near the side of the bed it now feels like Olivia had slipped into hours ago and not minutes.

"Liv, Livvie…" he calls out, wondering what in the world has just happened. He needs to tell her he feels the same. He wants to tell her he feels the same.

Fitz makes the trek towards the bathroom, but Olivia's already on her way back.

"Liv," Fitz tries, but she shakes her head.

Her eyes are rimmed red and she pushes past him, to the linen closet at the opposite end of the hallway. She rips down a set of sheets and a thin comforter before heading back into her bedroom. No words leave her lips as she tears at the bed sheets, changing them hurriedly.

"Olivia…"

Again, she doesn't look at him.

"I'm just going to change these and let you sleep. I'm…"

She's spiraling. He can see it as she makes the bed, the t-shirt she wears inching up, threatening to expose her bare bottom. Licentious thoughts threaten to find their way into Fitz's mind - he is only human after all - but he stops himself. He crosses the room and grabs her hands wrapped in the the comforter.

"O-liv-i-a. Stop."

Finally she does, turning to look at him. Her chest heaves as she expels a hot puff of breath. "Don't say it back just to say it, please. Just...just don't say anything."

Fitz's brows knot in confusion.

"Please don't. Just don't say anything."

"Liv, you can't tell me you might be in love with me and then run away before I can say anything. I was silent earlier because I was thinking just how much in lo—"

Her fingers clamp down around his lips and she shushes him, panic all over her face. "Fitz, don't. I don't want you to feel obligated because I said it. That's not the way I want to hear it."

"Idunmeealoblimated," Fitz mumbles against her hand. Unintelligible sounds come from his mouth. Whiplash, she's giving him whiplash. "Uh-livmah, I lo…"

The grip she has on his lips tightens. "Don't," she warns, eyes brimming with tears. "There are things you don't know about me yet. Things I need to tell you before you decide to say those words to me. Things I can't tell you right now."

His stomach sours at her words, nerves bubbling. What does she mean? What can't she tell him? He's told her everything. His wife, his children, his suicide attempt. She knows it all, but there's still parts of her she can't share with him. The feeling this knowledge leaves behind is unsettling. He begins to think of how much and how little he knows about her. Up until the day prior, he didn't even know her father was in the state. What else doesn't he know?

Gently he pries her fingers from his mouth, taking her hands in his. "There's nothing you can tell me that will make me lo—"

"Fitz…"

"You any less. You are a remarkable woman and I'd be foolish to let anything get in the way of us."

Olivia's eyes water and she lets her forehead fall against his chest.

/

(Two weeks later)

"So you've known him a year and have been officially dating him since March. Now it's July and you're having unprotected sex with him? Oh and telling him you love him." Abigail Whelan, Olivia's friend (and the third of the terrible trio) asks as she sticks a bottle of wine in the bright red Target basket Olivia pushes in front of her. "Where's his jimmy been that you're okay with riding the wave sans bathing suit?"

Olivia fights the urge to slam her head down on the handle of the cart at her friends choice of words. They've been friends since grade-school, but Abby never ceases to amaze.

"It hasn't been anywhere in ten years."

"I call bullshit. What kind of red blooded American man - gay or straight - just decides to be celibate for ten years? He's humping someone," Abby concludes, dumping a several bags of chips into the basket.

A woman in front of them in the snack aisle gives pause, turning to stare at the two. Olivia gives the woman a slanted smile, embarrassment blooming in her belly. She hurriedly pushes past the woman in the hopes of moving towards the school supply aisle. July is careening to a close and she's eager to begin prepping her room.

"He has his reasons, Abbs. Reasons I'm not about to start explaining to you, but yes he was celibate for that long. It's not hard to believe." She's yet to tell anyone that Fitz is a priest and her boss.

Abby chortles, shaking her head as she shifts the grocery cart in the opposite direction. Olivia grits her teeth, trying not to growl as they proceed down the soda aisle.

"Reasons? What does that even mean? Ooooh, Harrison said he was old. Can he not get it up?"

Olivia halts the buggy, her mouth dropping open slightly.

"Was there like some traumatic experience and you've brought him out of his sexual drought? Are you like his sexual saving grace? It was his Jimmy but the temperature of the water he'd been swimming in? He leave his of age wife to screw you?" Abby continues.

"Jesus, Abby! No! Oh my god!" Olivia shouts, soliciting a few pauses from the people around them. She ducks her head low, heat rolling off her shoulders. "His wife is deceased; he's not that old, and he has sex just fine thank you very much."

"Does he take the little—"

"No, he doesn't take viagra either. Can we please just go over to the school supplies now before I change my mind about having you and Harrison in my apartment tonight?"

Abby shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly before leading the buggy towards the school supply aisle, finally.

A scowl crosses Olivia's face as she follows her friend. Two weeks have come and gone since she's all but told Fitz she loves him. In those two weeks he's tried relentlessly to return her words, to say them back, and she's dodged every attempt, each time her mind going back to her brief conversation with her father about Edison. How could Fitz love her when he doesn't know all of her?

"Olivia, are you coming?" Abby calls, snapping Olivia into attention.

/

"Shit, Abby, I forgot my card," Olivia says as Abby turns the ignition and moves to pull her car out of the parking lot.

"Well, go get it. Come on, let's go. Harrison's supposed to be at your place in an hour and you know traffic. It's a half-hour at least back to your place on a good day."

Olivia bites back a comment about how she wouldn't have forgotten her credit card had Abby not been asking her lewd questions in the company of the cashier, but refrains. She scurries from the car and makes her way back through the familiar bright white and red doors. She's through the second double doors and on her way to the cashier she'd just left when she hip checks a buggy.

"Son of a —" Olivia growls, pausing. A summer dress is no match for hard plastic.

"Oh, miss, I'm extremely — Oh, Miss Pope."

Olivia takes a step back, hand on her sore hip, to size up the man who owns the cart she's just run into.

It's Father Beene.

"Father Beene, hi. I'm sorry. I was rushing and…"

"Oh no, Miss Pope. Mess is mine. I wasn't paying attention to what's in front of me," Cyrus apologises, pulling back his buggy so that he's out of the way. Olivia follows suit, knowing she'll be hearing Abby's mouth, but knows when to also mind her manners.

"I'm sorry we haven't spoken much. You came in at such an odd time in the school year. I'm happy to be working alongside you, though. St. Gabriel's is one of the best things that happened to me. I love the children and I love to teach," Olivia says with a smile.

A half smile tugs at the old man's cheeks and he nods his head knowingly. "I'm sure it's not just the children that keep you coming back to St. Gabriels. You and Father Fitzgerald are quite chummy."

Olivia narrows her eyes, a confused smile mars her features. "Excuse me?"

"You and Father Fitzgerald. Oh don't play coy with me Miss Pope. It's a chore for that man to keep his hands to himself when you're around."

An unsettled feeling washes over Olivia. What's he playing at? "We're just friends, Father Beene. Close friends."

"Friends," Cyrus repeats, the grin on his face stretching. "Friends who kiss and hold hands around DC. He's a priest Miss Pope, though I hope you're not Mary Magdalene."

"I— you. He - I...how?"

"I've been in DC a long time. I like to know the people I'll be working with an under. Now, I don't know your angle here. He's twice your age and an actual man of the cloth. I'm not sure what you're looking to gain by seducing him. I can tell you what he will lose. The archdiocese has far too much on its hands with Catholic sex scandals left and right. Sure you're a woman, but you're a very young woman. Which the press will have a field day with. Not to mention you're his subordinate so they'll say it was coercion…"

"It's never…"

"He'll be branded a pervert amongst other things. Removed from his position at the school. Perhaps laicized. Who knows. It just won't end well and outside of you calling on daddy to find a job and Father Fitzgerald ending up ousted or on the opposite side of the country."

Olivia's speechless as Father Beene's tirade concludes with a slanted smile. The unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach morphs into a nauseous one. She forgets what she's even returned to the store.

"It's okay to be a bit speechless, Olivia. I get it, you haven't looked at the bigger picture here so you're naturally overwhelmed. I'd just be careful. Be more aware of what you're doing and what it could cost everyone."

Olivia's head shoots up and her eyes narrow. It's true; she and Fitz have been too caught up in each other to truly assess the gravity of their relationship. He's assured her time and time again to not worry about it, but now as she stands across from Father Beene, the old man's slanted smile everything but friendly, she worries. Her temples throb and her palms grow sweaty; she fights hard to find her voice.

"You're...are you threatening me - us?" she has to force her voice not to shake.

Father Beene's mouth drops open in apparent shock and he shakes his head. "Miss Pope - may I call you Olivia? Olivia, I'd never. I'm just showing you the semantics. That's all. I'm your friend here, Olivia. You can trust me."

Olivia's eyes narrow further and she tilts her head. She feels like he's the snake in the Garden of Eden. The white collar around his neck says trust me, but the horns on his head say don't.

"There you are!" Abby's voice interrupts. She's standing inside the doors with a hand on her hip and her hair on fire in the sunlight. "Is your brain sex-fried or what? I thought something happened to you. Go get your card and come on!"

"Good-bye, Miss Pope. See you soon." Father Beene winks as pushes his buggy the rest of the way out.

/

Fitz stretches in his chair, the upcoming school year budget is finally on its way to being finalized. This is the time of the year where he pulls double duty. Between homilies and pink slips, he leads his flock and tends to his duties as principal. It's been hard for him as of late to keep focused; his mind tends to stray and fill with images of Olivia. She's a hard one to crack and he's been trying for two weeks to tell her how he feels. He's also been trying to find a way to get her to open up to him about why she won't let him say it. She's hiding something and while he doesn't want to push, he wishes she would just pull the bandaid off already.

He doesn't realise he's dazed off into a knock on his office door shakes him awake. He sits up at his desk, smiling as he's greeted by a photo of last year's staff. His eyes automatically travel to the middle, where he stands proudly. In front of him Olivia holds up a Saint Gabriel sign. He remembers how much self-restraint he'd exercised that day, desperate to touch her, but unable to do so in public.

The knock sounds again and Fitz wipes at his eyes. It's no more than 6pm and normally after a day well done, he'd call Olivia to see if she wanted dinner or just to simple speak with her, but tonight she's spending time as the terrible three. He's curious to know just what the terrible three means, but didn't ask. He'd just smiled and lamented the night he'd spend alone.

"Come in," Fitz calls, standing to greet his guest. His mouth falls open slightly at the sight of the man in front of him - their last meeting unforgettable. It's Olivia's father. "I…"

"Eli, Father. Eli Pope." Eli holds his hand out for Fitz to take and suddenly Fitz feels as if the room is on fire. He hasn't had to deal with an angry father in nearly twenty years in this capacity.

"Mr. Pope," he repeats, a nervous grin on his features. "What do I owe this visit to?"

"You might want to shut your door, Father," Eli suggests with a quirk of his eyebrows. His posture reminds Fitz of Olivia and he shivers at the thought.

Fitz does as the older man instructs, letting his door shut with a soft click. When he turns back around, Eli holds up the photo Fitz had been staring at moments ago.

"My baby truly is a gem. I like to think she's still going through her teen phase when she slings her 'I hate yous' at me, but I know it's because she misses her mother. I also wasn't the best father to her when she was a girl. That might be my biggest regret in this life. I gave her everything a teen girl could've asked for without hesitation, but I didn't give her my attention. Now she looks for it in places she shouldn't." Eli pivots on his right heel and leans against Fitz's desk, setting the photo back down.

Fitz's eyebrows raise at the older man's comments. He doesn't know where this visit came from or how to respond.

"How did you...did Olivia tells you?"

"She told me that she met you at work. Understandable. Imagine my surprise though when I found out you were her boss. I was less surprised than finding out you were a priest. The Catholic Church has just been a cesspool of debauchery as of late," the old man pauses for effect, pushing away from the desk and walking around it to sit. "Please, sit, son. Don't feel the need to guard the door. Or perhaps make a run for it?" Eli laughs.

"Mr. Pope, may I ask why you're here tonight?" Fitz attempts to cut to the point, but as quickly as Eli's laughter starts, it ceases.

"She's twenty-four. She'll be twenty-five in September, granted, but she's still twenty-four. How old are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked how old you are, son? I could easily find out. I have friends in most government agencies in this town if you don't want to tell me. My guess is 45."

"I'm 41."

"I'm fifty-two. Do you know what that means? It means you and I are closer in age that you and her. What do you possibly have to talk about with someone who was still attached to her mother's breast when you were probably pulling down your pants for your first piece of ass?"

Fitz balks at the vulgar picture Eli's words draw. "Sir, we are in a house of God, if you could refrain from the use of such—"

"You don't have a leg to stand on here son, not when you're screwing my daughter while wearing that collar around your neck. Do you know what you are?"

Anger swirls in Fitz's stomach and he feels he forces himself to stay rooted to the floor when his thoughts about the man in front of him are anything but priestly.

"You're her daddy issues resurfacing. And you're not the worst, not in the slightest. Though you quite possibly are the most peculiar."

Fitz's face lights up in confusion soliciting a long-drawn out 'tsk' from Eli.

"Did you really think you were the first past their prime grown man to take advantage of my daughter? She seduced her history teacher when she was seventeen. He was twenty-nine. If he'd been thirty, I could have his ass. Then there was my colleague at the smithsonian when she was nineteen. He was fifty-four and married. And last but not least, Edison Davis. Though I'm certain there are others she hasn't told me about or that I didn't discover."

Edison Davis? Fitz tilts his head. Edison Davis, as in Senator Edison Davis?

"I can see the wheels turning in your head. Yes, that Edison Davis. She was twenty when she began her internship for his office. He was thirty-seven and freshly married with a pregnant wife. That didn't stop him from turning my daughter out." Eli's eyes light up with flames. "He took advantage of my daughter's naivety and filled her with promises of love and courtship while recording their exploits and sharing them with anyone with a TV. When everything came to fruitrition, my daughter swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills."

Fitz sits, the room around him spinning. This is what Olivia's been hiding him from, this is the part of her she's afraid he can't love. Eli's words are too heavy and Fitz runs a hand down his face, his thoughts spiraling. Why didn't she tell him she tried to kill herself? Why didn't she tell him about the men and the Senator. Why didn't….

"She didn't tell you any of this I take it?" Eli rises to his feet. "She holds a lot in so it's unsurprising. I thought I'd finally managed to get her out of this old man phase after her in-patient treatment. She was with that nice boy Marcus and after they broke up I introduced her to Jake, and now I'm standing across from you."

"I am not like those other men. I am nothing like them. I would never hurt Olivia."

"Tell me, son, has she reawakened you. Does she make you feel young? Are you with her because she is young?" Eli asks, but pushes on with more questions. "Because if your answer is yes to any of those questions, you're just like those men and I will not let you use my daughter."

"I am not using her. I am in love with her!" Fitz declares, voice thick with emotion.

"You don't even know her," Eli refutes. "You don't know her and clearly you've forgotten your profession and whose house this is in." With that, Eli exits, leaving a perplexed Fitz at his desk.