A/N: Thanks for your interest in this story. I own nothing and am having fun so far.

EDIT: I have moderated reviews on for a reason & that reason is because some of you are absolute and utter assholes. If you don't like the pace of a story or the direction it's headed in, let me help you out here; quit reading or write your own. FF is free.

"I don't understand, Liv. Why didn't you ever say anything about what Jake did to you?" Abby asked.

Olivia watched as her redheaded friend shoved a chopstick into a takeout container and spared a piece of shrimp. Egg and rice slopped on Olivia's table, prompting her to refrain from growling at her friend's messiness. "Why can't you leave this alone? You're making me wish I never told you," she huffed, climbing to her feet and making her way into her kitchen in search of some paper-towel.

Abby swiveled in her chair, eyes following Olivia. "If they did this to you, they deserve to pay!"

"You just answered your question," Olivia said, voice flat, as she walked back into the small room that rested off of the open floor plan kitchen. "If."

"If?"

Olivia's eyes rolled as she set to work cleaning up Abby's mess. "If. You don't believe me, either."

Abby's mouth fell open and her emerald eyes widened. "That's not what I meant. I didn't mean if. I believe you! I meant —"

"How could someone of Jake's pedigree and Fitz's for that matter take anything that was readily given to them? They have women worshipping the ground they walk on. They aren't hung up enough to take it, right? That's exactly what Penelope said to me, too." Gooey rice plopped into Olivia's left palm followed by the sticky paper towel. She'd had this conversation ad nauseam at this point. "Same for Dean Westminster and Professor Marjoram. All people who I thought would believe me."

"Olivia, I believe you. I didn't mean —"

"Just drop it before I decide I'm better off without friends." Which was the truth. Olivia didn't have many friends as is and had no qualms with cutting people off. Even people she couldn't imagine her life without. Abby had become that person when they'd both been hired on as associates. Abby was the sister Olivia never had; just several shades whiter.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean if. My brain and mouth just got disconnected and it came out wrong. It happened to you and I want to help you anyway that I can. Like you did for me when Charles —" Abby's words broke off and it only took Olivia a second to fill in the blank.

It'd been nearly two years since Olivia's pent up rage got the better of her and she'd busted Abby's then fiancée's kneecap. In hindsight, Olivia knew it was her anger at Jake and at Fitz that'd flowed through the tire-iron in her hand that day. "I don't need you to take care of me, though."

"Sometimes you do. I'm probably not as good at swinging a tire-iron as you, but I bet I could push him down an elevator shaft?" The redhead offered up with a laugh.

Olivia laughed, too. "We both know that's premeditated murder."

"I won't tell if you won't."

Firm wide meetings were the bane of Olivia's existence. She hated seeing the blatant ass-kissing and unabashed jousting for relevance. More importantly, though, she hated being packed into the conference room like sardines in a can.

"Here's your half-cafe oat milk vanilla latte," Abby said as she slid into the oversized chair next to Olivia. "Try saying that six times fast."

Abby's words went in Olivia's right ear and out the left. She was too focused on the double doors, watching as people drifted in and out. The chair to her left was still opened and she wanted anyone but Fitz to take it. She was still avoiding him and thankfully he was now avoiding her, too. Telling him to go to hell might've actually worked.

"Liv?"

The feeling of Abby's elbow edging her ribs snapped Olivia's attention away from the door. "What?"

"He's across from you."

Olivia's face screwed together in confusion. "Who—" her question was answered, however, as Fitz came into view. He was looking ahead, towards the top of the conference room. "Thanks," she whispered to Abby as Mr. Kiefer walked in.

Mr. Kiefer was a tall, balding, mostly thin man, with impeccably tailored suits. He had a booming voice and wore half-moon glasses. Behind him trailed Mr. Kerns, a penguin shaped man with a disposition shorter than he.

"Alright," Mr. Kiefer shouted, "Let's get going. I need updates on…"

Mr. Kiefer's voice faded off into the distance as Olivia stared at Fitz. She was caught between wanting to reach across the table and beat the shit out of him and wanting to fling herself out of the conference room windows. He looked exactly the same. The years in between the last time she'd laid eyes on him and now hadn't worn him down any. Unlike her. She wondered what he'd gotten out of handing her off to Jake. Was it sexual? Was it revenge? Had she done something to him and tossing her into a lion's den was payback?

What was it? Why was it her? Why her? She hadn't been able to sleep soundly in years. Grandfather clocks were her worst enemy. Even the hint of aftershave on a man too close sent her running in the opposite direction. And it'd all been a set up. By a man she could've seen herself falling in love with no less. He'd hurt her and he'd laughed about it after. High-fived and whooped it up like she hadn't meant a thing. And she probably hadn't. Just another bitch not worth the box-spring he'd help trap her on.

"So Pope and Thomas will lead the charge on contracts for Cyntex."

The sound of her surname toppling from her boss's lips snapped Olivia back into herself. She broke away from glaring at Fitz and looked over at Kenneth Thomas, a Junior Associate sitting to Mr. Kiefer's right. She refrained from an eye roll, knowing full well she'd basically be working alone. Ken was full of himself and a premiere ass-kisser. He only jumped in to help when it benefited him.

"We can connect after this to build out a schedule, Ken?" Olivia said. She began to scribble down the dates she knew were opened on her schedule on her notepad in front of her.

Mr. Kiefer laughed. "Nah, not Ken, Pope. Grant. You and Grant will take reign. You're the best at contracts and they're supposedly Grant's specialty. With you two on the job, we'll have those out and off in days. They need to be airtight. This is a ten million dollar case. Not one un-dotted I or un-crossed T. Don't fuck it up."

The bile rose damn near instantly. Olivia's stomach clinched and she rushed to her feet. She broke from the conference room, leaving her notes and chair spinning behind her. Fast as her stilettos could carry her, she made her way out of the office, hand clamped over her mouth, to the bathrooms. The overhead light bathed the bronze stalls in all too bright light. She felt to her knees, what little there was in her stomach flying out. The faux granite floor was cool beneath her as she threw up a few moments more. She couldn't do it. She couldn't work with him. Sit across from him or side by side. It wasn't possible.

"Liv?" Abby's voice drifted over the bathroom stall.

Olivia didn't lift her head, instead she huddled against the wall, knowing full well she was mopping the floor with her favorite pants.

"Liv…"

The hand on the stall she huddled in clicked back and forth. When it didn't budge, Abby huffed on the other side. "Come on, Liv...please don't make me crawl under."

Olivia barely listened. Instead, she focused on keeping what was left in her stomach down.

"Okay, I'm coming under. Don't be surprised when you get my dry cleaning-bill." Heels scratched against granite and seconds later, Abby slid beneath the stall door.

"How am I going to work with him, Abby? How can I?" Olivia cried as she lifted her head, lips quivering and face red. "What do I tell Kiefer? Sorry, I can't work with the man who set me up to be raped?" The last word was whispered. "Show the whole world I'm incompetent in every way that counts? If I can't protect myself, how can I lead a case - how can I protect a client?"

"I'm going to hug you now. I know you don't like to be touched, but damn it, I'm going to hug you, okay. Then we're going to go in there and we're going to tell Mr. Kiefer —" Abby wrapped an arm around Olivia and pulled her close.

Surprisingly enough, Olivia didn't want to fight her. "No. I'm not telling anyone else. I refuse. No one else is going to know. No." Her words were firm, fixed with no room for persuasion. "I already left my dream school because of him; he doesn't get to take my job, too."

Abby wasn't one to insert herself into other people's business — okay, she was — but she wasn't one to tell other people's business. It wasn't her place to confront Fitz about what he'd done to Olivia, but it was her place to protect her best friend. She didn't knock as she walked into Thomas's office. She pushed the door open to find him, head down in his laptop.

"I swear to God, on a stack of bibles, Qurans, Torahs — whatever your religion is — that if a single tear falls out of either of Olivia's eyes while you two are working on these stupid contract, I'll take a tire-iron to those pretty blues." The words came out rapid fire, one after another until she was forced to gasp for air.

Fitz shut his computer. "And who are you, her babysitter?"

"I'm her best friend, you dickhead. You can walk around here smiling and charming your way into everyone else's good graces, but not mine. I won't let you hurt her again."

Fitz let out a humorless chuckle. "Again? I don't even know what I did to her to begin with. She won't even say two words to me unless it's 'go to hell'."

"That's three words."

"Jesus. Look, I don't want to work with her either. Whatever I did to her whenever is apparently enough of an affront that she hates my guts now. That's fine. I just want to do my work like everyone else here."

It was Abby's turn to laugh, no humor to her tone either. "Men like you and like my ex-fiancée are why I'd rather die alone. All you know how to do is abuse women and take from us. Hurt Olivia again and I hurt you," she threatened.

"I've never hurt Olivia."

"I guess Halloween night doesn't mean shit to you then. For Olivia, it's a literal fucking nightmare. You've been warned, Fitzgerald Grant. Don't try me." Abby didn't wait for him to respond, she stormed from his office, letting his door slam behind her. She needed to go check in on Olivia.

A/N: Working on doing something in Fitz's voice now so we can see what's going on from another angle.