A/N: I'm surprised by the response to this, a bit overwhelmed, too. Any who, thank you. This chapter is a bit small because it was originally meant to be apart of the first. I just cleaned it up and decided to publish since you all took to this so well.
We get one back story and a partial backstory here.
TW: abortion mention.
"I would've gone somewhere and bought us something better than this," Fitz says, a slight smile tugging at his lips. He holds up a fish stick between his thumb and pointer, wiggling it.
Across the narrow cafeteria table, Olivia shakes her head and playfully chides him, "my seven year old doesn't even play with her food."
"You would subject her to this?" He questions, tossing the fish stick onto the linoleum table top. The questionable meat bounces once, twice before coming to a halt millimeters from the edge. It jiggles a bit before finally settling.
Olivia giggles and the sound, while welcomed, is a bit too sweet for Fitz's ears. He finds himself leaning into it, yearning to hear it once more. It's infectious, along with the smile tugging at her cheeks.
She's your student, stop.
"You're right, I wouldn't."
"See, I rest my case. Let me go buy us breakfast."
"Because she's allergic to seafood, not because she's too impatient to wait for the staff to put out breakfast, and chose to instead eat 2am hospital cafeteria leftovers at seven in the morning."
"Touché." Fitz yawns, checking his watch. He's been here all night and morning, unable to tear himself away from the young woman in front of him. "Patience has never been my strength."
"Oh, I know."
He frowns, an apology on the tip of his tongue.
Contrary to what Olivia may think, he does not have it out for her. She is, in fact, one of his most intelligent students. From her first cold call, taking his hypothetical head on to an almost flawless first exam, Olivia's proven to be brilliant. He's been disappointed by her behavior and wishes she'd told him what is going on with her. He's not an unreasonable man. Or at least he doesn't think he is. If only she had told him about her situation. He understands.
"You don't have to babysit me, professor. Please. Go home."
"Fitzgerald or Fitz, Olivia. Beyond the walls of Georgetown, my name is not professor. Okay? And I'm not babysitting you. I'm filling in for your sister Gabby."
"Abby, prof—"
Fitz raises a brow, she truly is stubborn.
"Fitz."
"Thank you. Now, I'm here because you need support. You need distraction. And who better to provide both than your professor."
Olivia smiles wide, rolling her eyes. "You just said —and I quote — beyond the walls of Georgetown, my name is not professor."
"Correct, future counselor. My name is not professor, but it still is my profession."
Olivia groans dramatically, pushing her tray away from her. "Semantics."
"They matter."
"I know."
Their banter trails off into distracted silence. Olivia's gaze falls to the table, her hands clasped in front of her. Fitz finds his eyes roaming, wandering, and noticing small details about the woman sitting in front of him. Her face is heart shaped and her lips form a natural pout; there's a small scar, nearly invisible, on her right cheek beneath her eye; a black beauty mark peeks out from beneath the neckline of a t-shirt that nearly drowns her tiny frame; lastly, her nails are an electric blue, a color he definitely wouldn't expect her to wear. He smiles as he takes it all in when a sniffle catches his ear. His pulled from his daze as two lone tears slip down her sharp cheeks.
She lifts her chin, worry contorts her features. "You think she's okay?"
"I do. Especially if she's anything like her mother."
"She's a lot tougher than me, actually. A lot more fearless, too. She's my Supergirl."
Fitz smiles, listening intently. His heart swells as she speaks of her daughter. He feels the same way about his children.
"My daughter is, too, which scares me and causes pride to bloom in my chest. She's thirteen and demands to do everything her fifteen year old brother does."
"Fifteen and thirteen? Wow."
"What?"
"You just don't look old enough to have a fifteen and thirteen year old, that's all."
Fitz chuckles at the comment, a bit of pride swelling within his chest. Some days he feels ancient. "I just turned thirty-nine. My ex-wife and I had Jerry rather young."
"I skipped my prom to rock my teething toddler to sleep, Pro — Fitz. Twenty-four isn't that young." Olivia pulls her knees against her chest, shrinking her already small frame even further.
Fitz raises his brow at her candidness and the imagery she conjures with her words.
"I'm not ashamed of her," Olivia adds. "I know my parents would prefer it if I was, but I'm not. I love her."
The corners of his mouth uptick into a smile. She loves her daughter, that much he can tell, but looks are deceiving. Had he never met Francesca Pope, he would never have guessed Olivia Pope to be a teenage mother.
"May I ask you a question, Olivia?"
"You want to know how I ended up as a statistic?"
Fitz tilts his head.
"You're not the first to wonder, but the answer is rather simple. Stupid impressionable girl, self centered and manipulative boy. Nine months later you have a little girl."
"I mean, you're just so very smart. I wouldn't think…"
"Sex doesn't involve much thinking, does it?"
"Not if you're doing it right."
Olivia's eyes widen and a beat passes before Fitz realises what he's said. His face flushes a bright red and he clears his throat.
"Uhm…" he stammers. "I just meant..."
"I know what you meant," Olivia interrupts, lips curling into a small but brief smile. She breathes in, as if she's bracing herself. "I used to wear a purity ring. Before Jake —Frankie's father — I'd sworn off sex until I met my Prince Charming. I'd seen girls in my grade and below me sleep with guys and get dumped seconds later. I didn't want that. I wanted the romance and the fairy tale. And when I was sixteen I thought I'd found that."
He's thankful for the somewhat change in subject, the deflection of the spotlight. Fitz pushes his own tray away, and leans against the table, ready to listen.
"Jake was eighteen, a senior, star baseball player. I was assigned to tutor him in Spanish and he hit on me from the start. He was attractive, kind of dimwitted, but cute. I'd mostly rebuffed his advances, at first. But eventually he wore me down with a mixed CD there, flowers here. It was a nice distraction from what was going on at home. My parents' marriage had hit a rough patch. they thought I didn't know, but I wasn't a fool. My dad wasn't sleeping on the couch because it was comfortable."
Fitz gives her a somber smile, thinking of his own divorce.
Across from him Olivia sighs, picking at her nails before continuing. "Long story short, Jake told me he loved me and I believed him. I let him talk me into bed without protection. A little more than two months later, he was high-fiving his friends for popping prude Pope —apparently my virginity was worth a couple hundred bucks and bragging rights— while I was throwing up in my mother's roses."
A tinge of unadulterated anger ripples up Fitz's spine. He doesn't know this Jake, but he knows his type; has seen his type come and go for years, taking advantage of women like Olivia. Briefly he thinks of his own daughter and the wolves den she's about to enter in another year. He'll kill someone.
"I'm guessing he didn't care too much when you told him?"
"When I told him I was pregnant, he asked me by who. The irony, huh?"
"Irony…" Fitz repeats. "That wouldn't have been my word of choice. I take it your parents took it better?"
She laughs, but its neither jovial nor carefree. There's pain in her voice as she speaks. "My mom cried and my dad dragged me to an abortion clinic. I hadn't even thought about that yet. I was still trying to wrap my head around even being pregnant. The counselor at the clinic refused to perform the operation because I couldn't consent to it. I was hysterical, my dad was enraged and I really wish that night could be wiped from my memory. My mother brought up adoption and by June I was finishing my Junior year up five months pregnant from my dining room table. My parents — my father specifically — couldn't fathom everyone knowing my dirty little secret."
"I assume they had a change of heart?"
"No, they didn't. A nurse made a mistake. They — my mom and dad — had a nice family picked out to take Frankie. They were both in their thirties. An architect and teacher. And then I went into labor. Ten hours later she was here. I wasn't supposed to touch my baby; they were supposed to take her right away. But the nurse let me hold my baby; she put Frankie in my arms and I'd never felt love like that before. It came without stipulations, without strings and I decided I couldn't give her up. My father nearly went through the roof and while my mother didn't say it, I knew she was disappointed in me, too."
"I'm sorry. Parents are supposed to love their children unconditionally," Fitz offers sincerely. His heart aches for her.
"My parents are anything but unconditional. Everything with them comes with strings. I'm surprised they didn't kick me and Frankie out after I refused to give her up. I guess they were more worried about what it'd look like for them to put me out with an infant rather than for me to raise one in their house."
Again, Fitz frowns. Guilt swells in his stomach for his past transgressions against the young woman in front of him. He's been hard on her, but probably not harder than she's been on herself. And admittedly, he's thoroughly impressed by her strength. She clearly doesn't have supportive parents, nor a father for her daughter, yet she's managed to finish high school, undergraduate, and is on her way to solidifying her stance as a brilliant legal mind.
"You're amazing, you know that, Miss Pope."
Olivia ducks her head. Her cheeks swelling. "Olivia, Fitz. And I'm not. I chose to take on this responsibility. It's not amazing, it's called being a mother."
"You're amazing, Olivia," he repeats, locking eyes with her as she lifts her head. The world seems to slow as they stare at each other. The air between them is charged, heated. It scares Fitz as he tries to find his breath, his heart beating fast.
A loud buzzing sound breaks their gaze; it's Olivia's phone. She picks it up from the table and answers it without hesitation. "Hello? Yes this is she. Good. I'll be there in a second." She puts the phone into her purse that hangs off the back of her chair and stands up. "Frankie's out of surgery. She's in a recovery room."
"That's great. Let's get up to her."
"Pro — Fitz, you don't have to; you've been here all night and morning. It's okay if you go home."
"It's a Friday. Besides exams to grade, I have nothing for the day. Also, I don't think you understand what she might look like when you see her for the first time after surgery." He stands up, too, picking up their trays.
Olivia stares at him in confusion.
"Wires, tubes...it's not pretty. It's terrifying and I don't want you to face that alone."
/
They stand too close the elevator ride up to the fourth floor. No matter how many times she's told him to go home, he's stayed. And for that, she's grateful. Even if she's certain they've crossed several invisible lines today. She's shared parts of herself with him that only a select few have been privy to; parts of her life she would rather forget at times, yet he hasn't once looked at her with scorn or pity. Empathy and perhaps admiration, but nothing more. His gaze leaves Olivia feeling vulnerable, exposed, and she hates it.
The elevator comes to a halt and Olivia's stride picks up, eager to get back to her daughter. For a moment she forgets Professor Grant — Fitz — is behind her until she comes to an abrupt halt and he barrels into her.
Olivia's eyes narrow at the man standing at the desk. "I can't believe it. He actually showed up."
"What?"
"Jake. Frankie's dad. I could probably count on one hand how many times he's seen her since she was born." A mixed bag of emotions swirls within Olivia. She doesn't know whether to be relieved or angry at his appearance.
Fitz steps around her and Olivia notices his fists are clenched. "I guess better late than never?" There's a bite to his tone that shocks Olivia.
She steps around him, placing a hand on his right wrist, squeezing it gently. "Thank you."
"Olivia, what the hell happen?" Jake's voice sounds along with his approaching footsteps.
"Appendicitis, which I explained in my several voicemails and text messages."
"How could you let this happen?" Jakes asks in an accusatory tone.
"How could I let this happen? I didn't let it happen. It just happened."
"You're supposed to be taking care of her, Olivia!"
"I am! Don't you dare come in here and question my ability as a mother when your parents see her more than you!"
"I send you your check every month."
"She needs more than a check, Jake. She needs a father!"
"I am her father."
"You're a glorified sperm donor. If it hadn't been for your parents, you would've never even taken half-assed responsibility for her."
"You self-righteous — " Jake starts. He takes a step forward, but he doesn't get far. Before she knows it, Fitz steps in between them.
"I suggest you don't finish that sentence, Jake," Fitz warns.
"Fitz…" Olivia grabs his wrist once more.
"This your new boyfriend? You got him around my daughter?"
"He's my friend and why are you even here?" Olivia hisses.
"Because you asked me!"
"Jake…" A feminine voice calls. For the first time since recognizing her ex-boyfriend, Olivia notices a woman standing next to him. She's petite, blonde, and holds onto his shirt.
"Just stay out of it, Vanessa."
"Excuse me, Miss Pope," a nurse calls, interrupting the reunion from hell.
Olivia's attention is split and she turns to stare at the nurse. "Yes?"
"Francesca's coming to, I thought you'd want to be there when she finally wakes up fully." The nurse's eyes roam towards Fitz. "You can come, too, if you'd like, Mr. Pope, I hadn't realized you were here. Both parents are allowed in post-op."
Olivia doesn't bother to correct her, although she hears Jake gearing up to; instead she seizes one of Fitz's hands. She feels him tense up beneath her touch briefly before relaxing his fingers in hers. "Which room?"
The nurse waves the pair on as Jake mumbles something indecipherable and Vanessa tells him to calm down.
/
"Mommy…" Frankie calls as soon as Olivia enters the room.
Olivia breaks out into a grin, her eyes feeling with tears. She doesn't realize it, but she's still holding Fitz's hand. When he squeezes her fingers, she squeezes his back before letting go. She rushes to Frankie's bedside, trying desperately to ignore the IV sticking out of her arm and the beeping of the heart monitor. Fitz is right, it isn't a pretty sight.
"Hey, baby."
"Where'd Pua go? We found the heart of Tafiti."
Olivia chuckles at her daughter's question and subsequent explanation, tears of happiness falling from her eyes. "You did, did you?"
"Uh huh and Beyoncé came. You're pretty, mommy."
"So are you, baby."
"I'm all better now? The electrician took the bad parts out? There's no more rocks in my tummy."
"Pediatrician, Frankie; and I have to talk to your doctor, but I think you are."
"Okay, mommy. Can we see the penguins next?"
"We can see the penguins next." Olivia sniffles, wiping at her eyes, and laughing even more at the miniature comedian that's become her daughter on anesthesia.
A deep chuckle sounds from behind her and she turns to find Fitz laughing. Olivia smiles at him briefly before turning her attention back to her daughter.
"And the ligers. So many ligers…" Frankie's eyes slip closed and her words trail off.
Despite Jake's untimely appearance and the lack of sleep she's had the last forty-eight hours, Olivia's never felt more relieved and grateful in her entire life.
Once again Olivia turns to Fitz, mouthing a small 'thank you.'