A contained smile appears on Olivia's face as she beholds the man next to her.
Already given up on the possibility of falling asleep again, the sight of him in her bed has been enough to keep her transfixed.
Too afraid to shatter the perfection of the image of Fitz beside her, she stares.
The rays of sunshine illuminate his skin, and in his slumber peacefulness reigns. The sheets barely cover his body, and with his back exposed, he looks magnificent. If she's ever seen him like this, her memory fails.
She knows she shouldn't, yet Olivia scoots her body closer and touches his hair. The urge to wake him valiantly fought for so long, but now she concedes to the desire to touch him.
She is wrong.
Camp David felt like this. Isolated from everything, back then, they could wake up and fall asleep together. Somehow time worked differently there, the hours and days would melt into one another as they enjoyed the company and privacy.
Her finger traces a curl that falls on his forehead.
With the trail of light touches Olivia traces through his body, Fitz awakens.
"Hi."
The sounds from the city outside seem to belong to another reality. Passing cars, and construction work fade in the background while they both take each other in.
A lightness overtakes Olivia's spirit, "Hi."
Fitz rests a hand on her hip, bothered by the layers of sheets covering her body.
"You have a look on your face," Fitz comments with a grin.
"What look?"
"A 'I can't believe you're here' look."
"Is that so?" Olivia smiles.
"Mhmm," Fitz takes the opportunity to kiss her, gentle and tender. "I like the way you look at me"
Olivia takes in his face, lingering in the lines on his forehead, certainly aggravated by stress throughout the years.
"How is that?"
"You're happy with me being here. I don't have to do anything else, be anyone else. I don't have to worry with you," he uses his finger to brush lightly against Olivia's nose. "You see me."
"Those were very bad years for you, weren't they?"
"I told you some of it."
"I know. It's just– They were really bad?"
"I mean they were stressful, but there were good moments. I'm proud of what I did," Fitz buries his face on the crest of Olivia's neck. "I missed you though. Like this."
Her fingers caress his hair as Fitz places tender kisses where he can reach from his position, shoulder, neck, and cheek.
He smiles to himself.
"Did you change your perfume?"
"Yes," Olivia gives him a curious look.
"It's good."
Every time he'd think back on how she would feel and smell this close to him, it was from memory. Her signature perfume. The thought had been wrong, but for long it brought him comfort.
"Did you think about that?" Olivia asks.
"Your smell?
Olivia nods.
"I always think of you," Fitz catches hold of Olivia's hand on his chest, and intertwines their fingers.
A smile creeps up on Olivia.
"I have one of your navy shirts."
"When did you get it?" a surprised Fitz asks.
"Before I resigned. I went to the East Wing for it."
The moment had been hard, not knowing when would be the next time she would see him weighed on her. The effort to take something of his had been worth it.
"Of course you did," Fitz chuckles. The look on her face, the honesty with hints of an unfamiliar shyness, makes him close the distance between them with a quick kiss. "Wait. Did you take anything else?"
Olivia bites her lip, clearly enjoying the situation.
"What?" Fitz kisses a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
"Nothing."
"C'mon. Tell me."
"Scotch. From your cabinet," she grins.
"Did you drink it?"
"Took me a while, but yes," Olivia scrunches her nose. "I saved the bottle as a souvenir."
Fitz stops to take in what she admitted. Satisfied at her attempts to keep parts of him with her, and in how her feelings remain in the details.
"I love you."
"Is that all it takes?" Olivia muses. "Stealing from you? "
"I never really stopped. I'm just telling you."
Olivia shudders. It isn't only the words, but his total lack of restraint. Even if he looks older, and there are signs of weariness that are new to her, she can still read and respond to him instinctively. When words aren't sufficient, she can just act. So she kisses him, the feel of his tongue blissful.
"Turn around," Fitz breaks away to say.
With Olivia's back pressed to him, he takes advantage of the position to kiss her shoulder, and let his hands roam free under her oversized shirt. He palms her breasts and pinches her nipple.
"I think we should be this close all the time."
Olivia grins and rubs herself against his length.
"Of course you do."
"Yeah," his hands lower, going through her belly, her thighs, "don't you think it's a good idea?"
Olivia responds with a gasp when Fitz brushes a finger on her clit, eliciting a grin from him.
"You were waiting for me to wake up," he comments, feeling how wet she is.
His movements are unhurried, relishing the proximity between them.
The slower he traces his fingers around her folds and her clit, the more Olivia softens and relaxes under his touch.
Fitz lets himself enjoy the way her body reacts to him, not focusing on an orgasm, per se, instead remembering the small things about Olivia. How certain places and touches feel familiar to them, how she pushes against him after a flick of his finger at a particular angle.
It's not muscle memory. Above all else it's about rediscovery and allowing the knowledge of her body, which never really left him, to reawaken.
Olivia trembles, it's from his touch, but there's something else. She'd thought about it often, him touching her freely.
Butterflies in her stomach mix with shivers when Fitz inserts two fingers inside her.
"No," her voice breaks, "you."
Fitz ignores the request, and despite the ache in his wrist, he quickens the pace, encouraged by Olivia's moans.
Sheer will and stubbornness in this case weren't enough for Olivia to gather the strength to reach behind and stroke him. His attention solely on her, it is too hard to focus on anything else besides her body's increasing need to come. There's barely any room between them, yet she presses her hips back and grips the sheets.
As his fingers slide in and out, the palm of his hand brushes against her clit, leaving Olivia to move her hips, trying to enhance the contact. Until in one of her attempts to grind on him, without any warning, in a swift motion, he removes his hand and enters her with his cock.
"You feel so good. Missed being inside you."
Immediately, Olivia tilts her head back as the first wave of her orgasm hits. It's a small one, the type that leaves her aching for me.
With no time to recover, as Fitz thrusts, every nerve on her body is on edge, feeling heightened when Fitz moves his hand to her neck, choking her slightly. It isn't painful, but enough that the small deprivation of air, makes her whole body quiver.
Fitz spreads Olivia's legs wider apart, pushing her to move, so instead of being on her side, she has her back pressed to the mattress and her leg over his, giving him more room.
Olivia's breath hitches, and from Fitz, she only hears muffled groans and the sound of his body against hers.
The feeling of him pressing in and stretching her is too much, and Olivia struggles to beg, "Please."
Her breath is so fast she's panting, and Fitz seems to figure out what she needs.
Some extra pressure on her neck and more strength behind his thrusts leave Olivia to choke on her breath as she comes once again, surrendering herself to him.
Olivia grabs the box of tissues from the nightstand, takes a few out, then hands it to Fitz.
His chest glistens with sweat, while he beams looking at her.
"How are you?" he asks.
"Sore."
He smiles.
"I need a shower," Olivia answers candidly.
"I need coffee."
"There's nothing I can do about that part," Olivia sits up and walks to her closet, choosing her outfit for the day.
Fitz stares incredulously.
"Not even a hidden stash for when you have visit?"
She turns back to reply, her delivery deadpan.
"Caffeine is bad for you. I'm doing you a favor."
"You were literally drinking alcohol with me yesterday."
"But that can be fun."
"Your priorities are very questionable," Fitz rolls his eyes. "Do you have food at least?"
"Of course I have food. Who do you think I am?"
"I'm not sure. You're full of surprises Olivia Pope."
"Snoop around the kitchen. You'll find something."
"Don't you want company in that shower?"
"Just go get yourself some food."
Fitz moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He runs his hand through his hair, gathering the will to stand up.
When he finally does, he crosses Olivia's path and hugs her from behind, placing a kiss on her neck.
Too wrapped into him to try to exert herself, Olivia melts into his touch.
"One more?" Fitz asks, still kissing her neck.
Olivia drops her clothes on the love seat near the window and goes back to Fitz.
On a different occasion, she might not have chosen to wash her hair, but after last night and this morning, her natural curls were starting to show at her roots which left her no choice.
Though it takes time, it isn't a difficult or unpleasant process.
The water is warm, not too hot that it will dry her skin or damage her hair, but enough to help her muscles relax.
Olivia numbers the different steps in her mind: shampoo, moisturizer, then detangling.
As the water falls on her body, with it, her tears are washed away.
This is happening.
He spent the night.
Right now he's probably in her kitchen.
Her thoughts linger on the memory of his touch and his words. All years gone by, and for the moment they lose all the weariness attached to them.
Maybe the best part of it all is listening to the way he talks about himself and his life. Finally obtaining the knowledge straight from the source instead of looking at him from the outside, a pariah, disconnected from his inner circle.
Even if he slips away again, this occasion has allowed for a sense of closure.
No.
It was confirmation.
They were real. They are.
While her body ached to be rid of the remnants of sex that lingered on her pores, her mind doesn't focus on the task at hand. A different array of thoughts takes hold of her as Olivia washes her skin with patternless movements.
His eyes haven't changed, grown older for sure. Nevertheless, they're the same that peered into her soul as they stood together in an empty hallway, doing nothing but looking at one another.
He's still beautiful despite everything that he must have gone through during their separation.
A far cry from days past, when the dread of never having him again was paralyzing. Today is many things, and just like last night above them all, it is hopeful.
Olivia walks into the living room to see Fitz on her couch with a news channel on.
"You already ate?" she asks.
"No, just had some coffee."
"You went out?" skepticism in every word.
Fitz stands up and grins at Olivia.
"No," he takes her hand and leads the way into the kitchen.
Pride beams out of Fitz at Olivia's static body by the kitchen door frame.
While he makes his way through the room, an astonished Olivia only stares.
"You ran errands?"
"Of course not," he pops a grape into his mouth. "I had the Secret Service do it. They called me with the menu and I just picked what I thought you'd like."
"You do know that's not their job right?"
"A thank you would suffice."
Any pretend annoyance fades away when Olivia eyes the colorful thermal bottle on the edge of the corner.
"What is that?" curiosity and high hope get the best of her.
"Some fancy chai for you," Fitz rests a hand on her shoulder. "I wasn't sure how long you would take to get ready, so we got a thermal bottle. There's also some fruit and pastries if you want."
"Thank you," the only words to escape her lips while the surprise sinks in.
Without a proper look at any of the food, she moves straight to the tea.
The warm liquid is still very hot, almost burning her tongue, just the way she likes it. The taste is heavenly and as the aftertaste settles on her tongue, Olivia realizes that there are more spices than she's used to. All the spices mix perfectly, but the extra cinnamon makes it something truly special.
She can feel his eyes and satisfaction from afar.
"You've very smug, do you know that?"
Fitz opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by the ring of Olivia's phone.
She lets out a sigh at Harrison's name on the screen. Great.
"What?" she asks pointedly, frustrated at the call that brings her back to the real world.
The amount of information Harrison conveys in a few seconds has always been a tremendous and deeply appreciated skill, but now it only reminds Olivia of the need to go back to her daily life.
"Don't let her out of your sight. I'll be there in thirty."
"Everything okay?"
"I have to work," she laments.
Fitz remains silent, Olivia's disappointment palpable.
"Liv," he says, bringing her attention back to him. "We'll talk later," he reassures.
A deflated Olivia mutters, "You didn't eat."
"I'll have something here. I'll be fine," he moves toward her and with his hands, Fitz slowly traces her face, shoulders, and torso, until they settle on her hips.
A light kiss on her lips, the right side of her neck, and lastly the left side, then he looks her in the eyes.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Despite everything, Olivia lets herself be comforted by his words.
Olivia grabs her purse while Fitz goes to the front door and opens it for her.
"We'll talk later," he repeats.
"Okay."
"Take care of yourself."
The path to her car is automatic. Work has been the reason for her to leave home many times before, but today, as the elevator doors closed and his image disappeared, it was harder to not look back. Olivia tightens her grip on the steering wheel and makes her way to her office.
If she thinks about it, last night was the epitome of a best-case scenario. The night flew by and he was so willing to share with her the parts of his life that she'd missed out on. Even when things could've turned sour in her apartment he chose honesty. Of course, he did.
Now Olivia turns her focus back to work. She parks at her usual spot and walks into the building.
Olivia steps out of the elevator to face a worried Harrison.
"When did she get here?" she asks, looking through the glass, in an attempt to eye the woman currently seated on a chair in her office.
"Don't know. I got here and she was outside, talking about a meeting with you. I let her in and called you."
"Find out how she got here. Tie up any loose ends. We can't have anyone else knowing about this."
On her way in, Olivia stops by the entrance to Huck's office.
"Check if everything is with the Williams case. They haven't called in a few days. Then follow up with Green's, their father has been quiet for longer than usual."
"On it."
"Huck," she tilts her head, "you're good?"
"Yes," his answer is short but sure. Promptly he turns back to his computer and follows the instructions.
On her way to the elderly white woman currently waiting for her, Olivia stops by the hallway and steels herself before walking in.
"Hello, Rose."
"You're late."
"I know. I'm sorry. I had to deal with a couple of things."
"Yes, I know darling. How have you been adapting?"
"To?"
"This," the woman gestures to the room. "Dear, are you sure you're alright? You left Grant and here you are still working to the bone. You really should go back, I bet he would say yes."
Olivia sighs.
This isn't something she'll ever get used to. The disorientation, each time having to situate herself in where her friend's mind is, then do what she can. Somehow, she hoped today would be different.
It's been a while since the last incident, and part of her hoped for a crisis of any other nature today. Something manageable that she could focus on and eventually fix.
Whether she likes it or not, this is what Olivia has to deal with now, so she sits down on her chair.
"It's an adjustment, but it's fine."
"I told you. You really shouldn't have left. Such a nice job, and you liked it too," Rose points accusingly. "And don't you start with that 'I wanted to start something new' bullshit. You loved that campaign and you loved the White House. Really, who throws an opportunity like that away?"
Olivia's smile falters. People sometimes talk to her about it, her magnum opus, Fitz's first election. Throughout the campaign, he had faltered behind. The changes made in the appearance of his marriage, and Mellie's stunts certainly helped, but she knew the truth.
There never was any need to be humble about her work at the time, it truly was a masterpiece, yet the transformation that led to victory was him. Nothing can change her mind about it.
It took a while, but it was his demeanor and belief in himself.
"I want to win this election. I'm going to win. It's mine. Do you think I'll make a good President?"
"I think you'll make a great President."
"I'm good here," Olivia replies, bringing herself back to the conversation.
"You do look happier today."
Liv tilts her head in question.
"It's in your eyes, " Rose says nonchalantly.
Olivia smiles at the comment. Even in such a delicate situation, she seems to remain transparent.
"Who are you fooling? You can't do this forever," Rose notes.
Albeit not the first time and likely not the last, this isn't common.
Others had implied before and it escaped Olivia how they noticed. She and Fitz had always been careful. Mellie's discovery was the exception, and for that, she paid with her resignation. Still, she always denies it, and with a blank face, she changes the subject.
"How is Michael?"
"A bastard. He barely visits, but college is doing him good. I don't know what–" Rose stops mid-thought and looks around the room clearly at a momentary loss.
And just like that Olivia's heart sinks.
"How about we get you home?
On her way to the car, Olivia texts both Michael and Catherine, Rose's children, to let them know they are on their way. Their ride is easy and silent.
The sun is out and with few clouds in the sky, it's a nice day.
When they finally get there, Michael is waiting by the door of the beautiful brownstone. As both Olivia and Rose make their way inside, Michael mouths a thank you while guiding his mother up the stairs, while Catherine stays with Olivia by the foyer.
"Thank you, Liv," the young woman runs her hand through her blond hair. "The nurse's daughter is sick, so she arrived later than usual. When we noticed she was already gone."
"I'm glad she's fine, but if news of your mother's illness spreads–"
"I know."
"You need to be more careful," Olivia presses.
"I know. "
"I'll let you know if she stopped by anywhere else on her way to see me."
"Thank you, Liv. I mean it."
Olivia's smile is sad as she leaves.
She gets in the car and before awareness of what she's doing sinks in, Olivia is calling Fitz.
"Liv?" Fitz asks after picking up the phone on the second ring.
"Sorry. I wanted to hear your voice."
"Everything okay?"
"Yes, just work stuff," Olivia presses the phone closer to her ear. "What are you doing?"
"Writing, or trying to."
"Tell me about it."
"It's a memoir. I started working on it last year"
"How is it going?"
"Badly. Mostly I'm staring at a screen."
The other end is silent and Fitz's concern grows, "Liv, do you want me to pick you up?"
"No. It's fine," she exhales. "I'm fine."
"Do you want to come over when you're done with work?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the Riggs"
"Okay," Olivia looks out the window. "I have to go back to work," she adds, already feeling calmer, although not much was said.
"Okay."
"Bye."
"Bye," Fitz hangs up.
Olivia turns on the car and drives back to her office.
A/N: Just so you know I've been making slight adjustments (mostly grammar) on previous chapters, so if you notice anything different that's why. As always, reviews mean a lot. Let me know what you think.