Bang! Bang! {Part V}

Two weeks later

"Let's review today's White House Lawn ceremony one last time, "Olivia introduces to get their attention. "Cyrus…"

"I read the resignation statement emphasizing my gratitude to President Grant," he huffs.

"James…"Olivia encourages.

"I make Nancy Reagan eyes at Cyrus while he speaks before leading us to the waiting town car with Ella looking flawless," he responds with enthusiasm.

"Mr. President," she continues around the room.

"I promote you to Chief of Staff highlighting your invaluable service to the country during a time of crisis," he smiles contentedly. Finally, we can begin our real life-together.

"I say something along the lines of grateful to serve or renewed sense of patriotism-blah, blah, blah and introduced Abby," she finishes.

"I'm grateful for opportunity Mr. President and look forward to working alongside Olivia Pope; but I do not mention hating Republicans," Abby states matter-of-factly.

"Please don't," Olivia fixes her with a pointed stare. "I think we are good to go."

"Can Ms. Pope and I have the room please," Fitz directs.

Principles and staffers exit the room and Liv moves to a far corner. The door closes, "Don't even think about it," she warns.

"Not even a little bit," he teases.

"Remember what is at stake," she raises her brow as a reminder.

Recognition registers in his eyes and his smile widens, "Good behavior sleepover."

"That's right…you get through the ceremony, scheduled cabinet meeting and briefings," she saunters past him before stopping at the door, "And all of me is your playground." She runs her hand over the bulge in his pants.

His eyes dilate slightly and he licks his lips. God I love her.


Early evening

Fitz, Abby and Olivia relax in the Oval over a decanter of scotch. "Look Liv, I like Ethan too but Cy turned him out like a $2.00 back door hoe. He has to be re-assigned-he won't be loyal," Abby pushes back.

"I know…he is just so young and eager," she laments. When did I go soft?

"Send him to the Hill as a staffer to a Representative in a safe district from one of the Dakota's or Nebraska," Fitz interjects.

"Fine…speaking of re-assignment," she hints.

"Tom," Fitz bellows through the door. Tom enters the room and closes the door behind him. "Update," he requests.

"Sir, I vetted the new team for the former First Lady. They are all mid-career with no significant ties to the D.C. elite or Agent Rambeau. I also took the liberty of opening a back door channel between myself and OPA member-Huck."

"Excellent…what is our departure time this evening?"

"11:00 pm and your Communication Team will officially announce a Camp David retreat at 10:00 am tomorrow," he explains.

"If I were you I would ask for a raise…they are exhausting," Abby quips.

"Do not even start Whelan…besides I have a little sumethin' planned for Tom's next night off," Liv teases.

"Again Ma'am, that is really not necessary," he responds with a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

"My gut says otherwise…trust me," she smiles playfully.

"Tom, don't try to fight her…it's not worth the struggle," Fitz advises.

He exhales in exasperation, "Thank you Ms. Pope," he responds before exiting the room.

Once the door closes, "Who is it?" Abby asks conspiratorially.

Olivia leans forward, "Alyssa…Rosen's Alyssa."

Abby laughs wildly, "She could kill him."

"I don't know…my money is on Tom," Fitz defends his favorite agent.

Abby quiets, "Come to think of it…listening at the two of you go at it for the past few years; that's a lot of pent up sexual tension to release. I hope she has a strong bed frame."

Olivia and Fitz both choke on their drink.


Late night

Fitz placed both hands in his pockets casually observing Olivia search for her keys in her purse. Why are her purses so big? What does she keep in there? He chuckles internally at the mundane train of thought. Time and the finalized divorce allow them their own version of normal.

They exit the elevator and approach her front door. He removes his hands and snakes one arm around her waist; the other hand pushes her hair out of his way; his mouth showers the back of her neck with tender kisses. They stumble through across the threshold.

Olivia interrupts his sensual assault, "I am going to change…can you pour me a glass of wine…your scotch is in the cabinet," she states softly.

"Sure," he answers with his lips against her neck.

Fitz removes his suit jacket and tosses it onto the nearest chair. He unbuttons his cuff and rolls his sleeves up before pouring their drinks. He returns to the living room and settles in on the couch; kicking off his shoes and propping his sock covered feet onto the coffee table.

Olivia returns with a make-up free face wearing one of his NAVY t-shirts with a tear at the collar. He grins remembering their precious time on the trail.

Flash Back:

"Liv, bring your fine ass here," he demands. She stands across the hotel room dancing and occasionally flashing him with her red thong or bare ass. Olivia attempts to dodge his pursuit by jumping on the bed. He lunges out to reach for her and catches the tail of the shirt…riiip. They both freeze in shock.

"Fitz, this is my favorite shirt," she whines. He leaps on her pulling them both down on the bed and drowns out her complaints by devouring her mouth in a sensual kiss. She whimpers and moans. He uses one hand to slide the torn shirt over her head while using the other hand to peel the thong from her body.

Fitz caresses her leg starting at her thigh. When he reaches her ankle he raises her leg until her knee touches her shoulder. He scoots down, "Do not move," he directs in a husky baritone. His mouth engulfs the thick, wet lips of her pussy. The tip of his tongue tickles her dripping hole. He angles his head determined to explore every inch of her honeyed, treasure box. She is pure ambrosia. He moans in delight.

"Holy shit," her eyes roll back and her body trembles, "What in…" she cannot finish because his tongue is undulating on her clit and she is calling all the saints. "Fitz-gerald…baby…oh, I…damn Super Power," she pants incoherently. Soon she is shrieking to the high heavens and he is grateful he alone occupies the top floor.

He looks up, mouth and chin glistening and eyes drowning in lust, "On your knees," he commands. Olivia rolls over slowly and struggles to hold herself up on her hands and knees. Fitz tugs out of his boxers and sits up on his knees. He rubs her ass cheeks before grabbing hold of his rigid cock and sliding into her, "Damn, this pussy is hot," he strokes deep. He angles his hips hitting a tender spot and she gasps He picks up the pace; reaching a pounding rhythm.

Olivia reaches back gripping his ass to bring the delicious friction between their bodies to a level of intensity neither has ever experienced. His panting is punctuated by her gasp well into the night.

End of Flash Back


A Month Later

Fitz, Olivia and senior staff are finishing an impromptu dinner strategy session at Gettysburger. As members start to depart with warm smiles Fitz thanks them for their hard work. He turns back to the table smiling at Olivia's humming while she pops fries into her mouth. "This is nice…normal," his statement is contradicted by the flash from the photographers outside the window.

"Yep, she swallows, out brand of normal," she quips sarcastically.

"Tell me again why you are not my date for the upcoming State Dinner?" he pouts.

She folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the bench seat. She watches him searching for the real truth behind his unrealistic request. "We are so close…can't you wait a little longer?" she asks gently. He nods quickly and starts gathering documents and folders. Olivia exhales, "Would it help if we danced together…once, she holds up her index finger for emphasis, and not the first dance." She too longs for their unrestrained love showered in sunlight.

"Absolutely…backless dress and I will keep my hand off your ass," he teases.

"I will see what I can do," she grins in spite of herself. Liv balls up a napkin and throws it at his face. The cameras keep snapping and recording but the two of them are too lost in each other to notice anymore.


Weeks later

Fitz is surrounded by staff, signing documents and adjusting his daily schedule when his private office line rings, "President Grant," he answers.

"Mr. President, this is Agent Rambeau. The former First Lady is in labor and asking for you," he explains.

Fitz falls down into his chair and his eyes glaze over. All activity in the room stops based on his behavior. Something is wrong-it is too early. The baby is in danger. He announces loudly, "Clear the room-Lauren hold all traffic except Ms. Pope."

"Mr. President," the agent continues to call out.

He snaps back to the present moment, "Are you at the hospital? Is the baby in distress?"

"We are en route. She is requesting James Madison Hospital and I need your authorization," Hal explains the other reason for the call.

"No, take her to Jefferson Hospital in Virginia. Their staff already has the security plan and other safety protocols in place," he re-directs forcefully.

"Yes Sir. When is your expected arrival time?"

"I will be in touch," Fitz disconnects the call.

The door creaks open and Olivia enters quietly. She approaches and squats in front of him grasping his hand; tethering him to reality. He is shaken and his skin is ashen. "What do you need from me?" What could have happened?

"She is in labor…I should be there just in case," he trails off.

Olivia squints trying to process what he is saying and tracking the length of her pregnancy. "This is early-right?" she thinks out loud.

"Yes…either or both could be in danger. I am torn and…I feel fear, regret, remorse, guilt," he confesses.

"Look…you are entitled to all those feelings even though you are not the only one responsible. Right now you are leaving-discreetly," she commands with love. "Tom," she shouts.

"Ma'am," his tone anticipates the next order.

"Exercise the birthing plan with just you and keep me informed."

Tom nods in confirmation, "Meet me in the tunnels Sir," he turns barking commands into his wrist wire and exiting the room.

Fitz stands with outstretched arms, "One minute."

"Every minute," she walks into his warm embrace.

TBC…