A/N: I know it's been forever for this fic. Again, I'm moving cross country and sneaking in writing when I can manage it. Today I ended up having to take off work thanks to a summer cold. Also thanks to a summer cold, you got this.
I really hope you enjoy!
Until next time.
-M
"Do you think Mr. Fitz'll like his lunch?" Frankie asks as she wipes her clean wet hands on the neon pink apron wrapped around her waist. Her eyes are hopefully as she tilts her chin up to look at her mother.
Olivia smiles at her daughter's question, slipping the finished and somewhat sloppily decorated cupcakes into the large red picnic basket in the middle of the kitchen table. "Of course he will. You made them with love."
Satisfied with her mother's answer, Frankie hops down off the kitchen stool. "Good because I never want to make another cupcake again," she declares, wiping imaginary sweat from her brows. "I can't even eat one!"
Her daughter's dramatics causes Olivia to shake her head, a smile tugging on her cheeks. "You can have one tomorrow, when we get to the school."
Frankie groans, huffing, though accepting her mother's words. "Promise?"
"Promise," Olivia confirms as Frankie slides into her chair, legs swinging.
"Is Mr. Fitz still your teacher?"
"Kinda…" Olivia says, closing the lid of the basket. It's been nearly three weeks since Frankie's hospital stint; minus a small scar, the seven year old is back to her normal, inquisitive self. "He's still a professor, but I don't have to take any more of his classes. I'm taking different teachers."
"Well that's good, right? He won't have to give you any more tests again or be mean again. I won't like him if he's mean and he's nice now. I want him to stay nice."
"Me too," Olivia agrees, her daughter's words hitting home. In the three weeks since she'd lost her composure in front of the man formerly known as her professor, they've grown close. They've gone from sharing day old french fries, to sharing late night phone calls and texts. He's offered to bring Frankie by food and even gave Olivia a ride home after she'd completed her exam.
Now as she gears up to start her summer associate position at Knight and Day, thanks in larger part to a stellar recommendation from Fitz, she and Frankie have decided to pay it forward. Tomorrow is the first day of summer session and the mother daughter pair have prepared a feast for the tall, handsome dirty blonde man. Cupcakes with prepared by seven year old hands, BBQ chicken, cornbread, and — as Francesca called it — cold salad (cole slaw); a far cry from his normal turkey and cheese sandwich.
"Do you like Mr. Fitz?" Frankie asks as a yawn ripples across her face. She pushes a coppery curl from her face.
Olivia pauses, brows crinkling together at her daughter's question. "Of course I do. We're friends." She takes the seat opposite her child and glances over the wide picnic basket. "It's time for someone's bath and then bed. After lunch tomorrow, we have to go see your grandma and grandpa."
"Is my dad going to be there?" Frankie asks as another yawn ripples through her tiny body.
A sigh saunters from Olivia's lips and she shakes her head at the thought of Jake. Since that fateful day in the hospital, he's been by roughly four times to see Frankie. Each time he brings with him some stupid expensive gift and twenty minutes of his time. Last time he gifted Frankie with a diamond pendant necklace Olivia deemed far too expensive for a seven year old to wear on the daily. Trying to get Frankie to take it off had caused so much havoc that Olivia eventually gave in and let her keep it. Then there'd been the iPad, a gift Olivia had already denied Frankie once, and the vanity set.
"Not Grandma and Grandpa Ballard, baby. We're going to see my parents: Grandma Maya and Grandpa Eli."
"Oh. Is Poppa gonna talk about dinosaurs again? He talks about them a lot and I just don't care."
Frankie's bluntness makes her mother laugh. Professor Pope apparently did not amuse his granddaughter. Olivia gets to her feet, pointing a finger in the direction of the bathroom. "Dinosaurs are cool," she offers.
"Yeah, but all the time?" Frankie climbs to her feet and heads towards the bathroom with her mother. "At least Gigi will play makeover with me and watch Coco."
"I thought Pop played his records for you?"
"Yeah, but he won't let me touch them."
Yup, that sounds like her father.
They enter the bathroom and Olivia busies herself with running water and tying her own hair into a ponytail. Frankie peels off her own clothes and climbs into the warm water. Olivia follows behind seconds later, too tired tonight to bathe separately. She reaches around Frankie for their loofahs and hands one to her daughter.
"Wash up so I can wash and then braid your hair."
"Oh, mom," Frankie bemoans. "It's gonna hurt."
"You'll be fine, come on. I'll put it in two braids with ribbons, just like you like. It'll be nice and quick."
"You'll make it look nice for Mr. Fitz?" asks Frankie, surprising Olivia. She hadn't realised Frankie paid that much attention to their knight-in-shining suit.
"For Mr. Fitz?"
"Yeah, you should look nice, too. He likes you. He smiles a lot when you're in the room. I think he wants to be your boyfriend."
Olivia's eyes nearly bulge out of her head and she drops the loofah and bar of soap in hand, into the water. She's thankful that Frankie's not paying any attention to her, but rather to the copious amounts of body wash she's piling on her loofah. "What?"
"He's really nice to you and when we were in the hospital he told me how pretty and strong you are. Then when he brought me ice cream he brought you popcorn. You love popcorn. And I hear you talking to him on your phone at night."
Olivia sits still as she begins to follow her daughter's logic. In truth, she hasn't noticed all the things that Frankie has. Okay, sure without a lecture hall to yell at her in she has noticed just how attractive he is. Her mind has wandered and wondered what he'd look like beneath his cashmere sweaters, but it's all been harmless. The late night phone calls were just him checking in on Frankie...and her. Okay, so sometimes they divulged into coy chats and flirty banter, but he's her professor. Except he isn't, not any more.
"That's enough body wash, don't be wasteful," Olivia chides, snatching the bottle and earning a scowl. "Hurry up before we're both cranky." She takes the loofah from Frankie and washes the little girl's back; soap suds filling the tub thanks to copious amount of coconut scented wash Frankie's filled the rag with.
"He looks at your butt, too," Frankie finishes with a giggle.
Olivia's mouth drops open slightly and feels heat creep into her cheeks.
/
Fitz stretches at his desk, his fingers twitching towards his phone to text Olivia. He hasn't heard from her since they'd said goodnight hours ago and he just wants to know if she's okay. She'd seemed awkward on the phone, stumbling over her words and rushing through their conversation. He chalks it up to possible nerves since she starts her job tomorrow, but he doesn't know why; she's brilliant. She always has been his best student.
Except she isn't his student any more and as far as he knows, she won't be again. He knows it's frowned upon to date students, but he can't get her out of his head. And it isn't right. Their relationship would be extremely taboo and honestly, he can't see what she'd want in an old man like himself. He's nearing forty and has two teenagers, she's barely in her mid-twenties.
A knock on his door pulls him from his thoughts and his stomach rumbles. He needs to eat soon before he launches into two more hours of Torts.
"Come in," Fitz calls.
Immediately a smile spreads across his face.
"Hey Mr. Fitz," Francesca Pope calls. Her lips are thinner, her skin lighter, and her face a tad rounder, but the nonetheless the little girl is the spitting image of her mother.
"Hey!"
"Hi," Olivia echoes, she carries a large red picnic basket in hand.
"Hi," Fitz offers, his heart beating erratically. "What do I owe this lovely surprise to?"
"We brought you lunch!" Frankie announces cheerily, making herself at home. She's a far cry from the sick child cradled in her mother's arms he'd originally met weeks ago.
"Wow, you did?" He looks up at Olivia, shock on his face.
"We just wanted to say thank you for everything these last few weeks. You've been a godsend." she doesn't look up as she sets the basket in hand down in front of him on his desk.
Frankie jumps into one of the chairs that sits across from him and makes herself at home, leaning against the desk to rummage through the basket. She begins to relay the contents contained inside, but Fitz finds himself more focused on Olivia. Her cheeks swell into a smile and she keeps her gaze down.
Is she blushing?
"Frankie, get down. You don't climb on the furniture at home, you don't climb on it here." Olivia chastises and Fitz laughs.
"It's okay, it's nice to see she's okay." His eyes meet Olivia's and they share a gaze. He swears he sees it again — she's blushing.
Frankie rolls her eyes dramatically and jumps down, leaning against the desk. "Well, look at it Mr. Fitz! I made cupcakes!"
"You did? Well, can I have a cupcake before I eat everything else?"
"Noooo!" Frankie wags her finger. "You have to eat everything else first."
Fitz can't help but laugh at the little girl. She reminds him of his own daughter when she was that age.
"Well, I can't eat alone. And I definitely can't eat…" he opens the top of the basket and counts the cupcakes. His stomach rumbles as he looks at the chicken. "Twelve cupcakes all by myself. How can I convince you and your mom to stay and eat with me?"
"Oh, we already planned on it. I still haven't had a cupcake and it took me a whole hour to make them." Frankie says.
Fitz smiles at her dramatics before looking up at Olivia.
"Yeah, there's plates and stuff at the bottom of the basket. I thought it'd be nice…" Olivia offers, their eyes meeting briefly before she's glancing down at her daughter, her hands tugging on the two french braids Frankie's hair is tied in.
They both look beautiful in their somewhat matching attire of summer dresses. While Olivia's dress is a pale blue, Frankie's is a bright pink.
"How about we find a spot to eat outside? I know just where there's the perfect picnic table."
/
"Simon says rub your stomach," Frankie says.
Fitz does as he's told, rubbing his stomach. Next to him Olivia does the same. They stand on the lawn near the Yates Field House, the leftovers of their picnic basket abandoned behind them.
"Now touch your nose!"
Fitz again moves to touch his nose, but Frankie and Olivia laugh. He stares in confusion with the tip of his finger on his nose. "What?"
"Simon didn't say." Olivia grins, winking at her daughter.
"Mommy wins!" Frankie announces.
"I feel like I've been duped." Incredulity spreads across Fitz's face as he glances between mother and daughter. "I don't believe it."
"Awww, poor baby…" Olivia teases.
Fitz gives her a crooked grin and she returns it with one of her own.
"Alright, can I have a cupcake now?" Frankie asks, stomping back over to the picnic table. A bit of barbecue sauce sticks to her chin.
"It's up to Mr. Fitz. You made the cupcakes for him, after all," Olivia calls out, and Fitz shrugs his shoulders.
"Go—" he doesn't even have the chance to get the rest of the words out of his mouth because Frankie's already popped open the basket and has both hands inside, rummaging for a cupcake. "Woah there, Yogi, do I get some of that picnic basket?"
Frankie quirks an eyebrow in his direction. "What's a Yogi?" She asks, biting into the cake.
"It's a cartoon. It's from a while ago," he answers, trudging back to the basket. The sun beats down on the trio and Fitz feels a bit of sweat roll off his brow.
"How long of a while?" Frankie bites into the lopsided cupcake, frosting covering up the barbecue sauce.
"The 1960s."
"The 1960s? Woah, I think my Poppa was the only person alive then and he's old."
Olivia breaks out into laughter from besides him and then walks around the table to sit next to her daughter. "Poppa was alive in the sixties, but speaking of Poppa, we're gonna have to go soon."
A frown crosses Fitz's face at Olivia's words. He doesn't want either of them to go. Frankie waves her mom off and returns to her cupcake, leaving Fitz to reach for one of his own. He notes the sloppy icing and the kid sized finger prints in some of the icing and smiles.
Across from him, Olivia stares out into the distance.
"Nervous about tomorrow?" Fitz asks, biting into the cake. The taste does not match the presentation and he feels his taste buds smile at the treat. Her nerves are the only thing he can think of that is to blame for her inability to look him in the face today.
"A little. I wouldn't have gotten this associate position without you," Olivia answers. "I hadn't heard back from anyone until you put in a word for me."
Fitz shakes his head. "Not true. John was already prepared to hire you. He just called me to confirm you were as much of a genius in person as you are on paper. And you are."
The apples of Olivia's cheeks swell and she ducks her head. "I'm not."
"Don't be modest. John Knight doesn't like modest. Go in there like you own the place and you will."
"With as much trouble as I gave you the last few months, why'd you tell him I was such a good student?" Olivia asks, looking up.
"Because you were."
"I wasn't. I was constantly late, I yelled at you. I—"
"You had your reasons. I'm sorry I was an ass. I've been teaching long enough to know that not everything is what it seems and sometimes there's reasons behind behavior. I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner." He's apologized twenty times over and he'll continue to do so. He feels like shit knowing now why she's missed class or shown up late after the fact.
"Please don't apologise again. It's fine. You've done more than enough for me since."
"And you deserve it all." She looks up and their eyes meet, the conviction in his tone hopefully clear. He means every words; she deserves it all. He is in awe of her.
"Frankie asked me something last night while I was putting her to sleep…"
"Does this something have to do with me?" Fitz asks, never letting his gaze waver.
"Yeah, said she thinks you like me. Like a boyfriend likes a girlfriend."
Immediately his face turns bright red. He chances a glance at Frankie Pope to find her happily eating her cupcake and dancing in her seat. "Uhm, I…she…"
"She also said you look at my butt…"
If possible, Fitz turns a deeper shade of red. He should've known; children are extremely intuitive and Frankie Pope clearly is no different.
"Miss Pope, I'm so, so...I didn't. I'm not…" he fumbles with his words, embarrassed and completely out of sorts. He's been so inappropriately enamored with the woman in front of him that he hasn't realized just how far across the line he's gone. He's truly just wanted to be there for her. He feels compelled to take care of her and protect her — help her when no one else will. "Please, Miss…"
"It's Olivia, Fitz. And I, I like you, too. Like a girlfriend would like a boyfriend…"
Her words take him by surprise and his eyes widen. "What can we do about it? What should we do?"
"Well, I don't have a lot of free time and most of what I do have goes to this thing on the other side of me who thinks I can't see her stealing another cupcake."
From the corner of his eye, he can see Frankie's small hand sliding into the basket while thinking no one is looking. Fitz smiles at her antics before pulling his eyes away to find Olivia's again.
"Go out with me, Frankie or no Frankie?" he asks, unable to stop the hope in his voice.
"Okay. I'll see what I can do about it being a Frankie free date…" She turns shoo at her daughter's fingers and Fitz can't believe his luck.
He nearly does somersaults across the lawn, but instead settles for another bite of cupcake.