A/N: Happy Tuesday! As always, thank you to everyone who read/reviewed the last chapter, I really loved seeing the responses (and I see Dean's getting no love from anyone haha). I hope you enjoy, and (even if not) let me know what you think.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Her head tilted back with laughter, and his insides warmed at just the thought of the sound.

"Fitz? Hellooo, earth to Fitz."

He shoved a hand out of his face, turning to meet the amused smirk of his colleague.

"What, Walker?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow, glancing around him to see out the driver's side window.

"Who has you so distracted you didn't even notice me spilling sandwich meat in the Lincoln?"

He eyed the seat once over, giving him a pointed look. "Trust me, I noticed."

"Hey," Marcus continued, ignoring him, "isn't that bossman's woman?"

Fitz tried to ignore the usual wave of jealousy that passed through him at the thought. It had been two weeks since their uncomfortable – if not downright awkward – reunion, and he was still struggling to temper the flare of emotions that had fallen over him that night.

He still couldn't believe the sick irony of it all.

Out of every person in the city, in the state – hell, in the world – she had to be attached to Dean Shaw.

He wanted to be angry, and he had been initially. As he watched the two of them interact, a caustic flare of resentment settled in the pit of his stomach. It kept him awake that night, and he spent hours thinking over his frustration. He was angry at her for getting under his skin the way she had – or at least, he thought he was – because when the shock wore off, and he realized he wasn't angry so much as he was…upset, his only frustrations were directed at himself for being so affected in the first place.

Why had he allowed himself to become so hung up on her?

He wasn't one for relationships, and hadn't been for a long time, so why couldn't he shake off his attraction to her?

He wanted to regret that night, to hate that he had never come to know how sweet her laugh sounded, or how beautiful her smile was when it reached her eyes, or how much better bourbon tasted after it had passed through her lips, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

"This is the last time you're eating in my car, Walker," he spoke suddenly.

He preferred not to dwell on it too long.

He tried instead to find solace in the fact that she hadn't ridden with him since that night. He had an inkling that she was actively avoiding him. It seemed she had taken his all-professionalism all-the-time approach and one-upped him. And while that made it easier to attempt to move on, this was still the fourth time he had spotted her in the office's parking garage for what he could only assume were regular lunch dates with his boss. Normally, he'd only catch a glimpse of her before she slid into her car, but today, she had apparently run into someone she knew, and they had been talking for close to ten minutes.

As Marcus mumbled under his breath and proceeded to remove crumbs from his seat, Fitz stole another glance at her.

She looked impeccably put together in a black and white suit. He didn't know much, but he was sure it was expensive – the red soles of her shoes and the Prada emblem on her purse all but confirming his suspicions.

She always looked so beautiful, and he found he could never quite bring himself to look away. Part of him hoped that Shaw at least had the decency to tell her every chance he got.

"There." Marcus grinned. "I think I cleaned all of it up, so you can't complain about a seat no one ever sits in anyways."

Fitz rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Next time, lunch is in your car."

"No way." He suddenly reclined the seat, placing his hands behind his head. "Charlene's a beauty, and she's staying that way."

Fitz couldn't help but chuckle. Marcus reminded him so much of himself when he was younger. He had been working with Red Giant Jets for a few months as a means of paying his way through law school and still found joy in the job. He loved his car more than he'd ever loved any woman and made a point of always discussing with Fitz whatever secrets happened to be spilled in his backseat.

Sometimes, Fitz envied his enthusiasm. He was a man with a plan, and a successful one at that. Marcus Walker was going places, and no one could tell him otherwise.

"Hey, wait, you never finished that story about what happened at the bar."

Marcus Walker could also sometimes be a pain in the ass and rarely ever realized it.

"I, uh, I don't think there was much to tell," Fitz tried to cover himself.

"Wrong," he responded immediately. "You, Doug and I had lunch that Monday, and you couldn't wipe that shit-eating grin off your face the entire time. You said you met a woman, and then Shaw called you to take him to that meeting before you could finish."

He held back a groan.

Since when had his closest confidants become his twenty-five and sixty-seven-year-old coworkers?

Conversation between them was often civil, and he'd even go as far as to say they were work friends, but he rarely divulged anything too personal. But he could distinctly remember having a particularly good dream the night before – after having fallen asleep to House Hunters – that involved Olivia and a hammock in Hawaii. Evidently, it had left him in a much better mood than he recalled.

He shrugged, and glanced out the window to see that she was no longer there.

"There was a woman, we talked, and…I found out she's not interested."

"Oh." Marcus sat up, checking his watch. "That sucks, but look I have to run. I'll see you when I see you."

He nodded, bidding him farewell. He checked his own watch to see that he had a little over half-an-hour left of his own lunch break and decided to take a quick nap. He was set to make two trips to the airport to pick up some big-name clients, and he was certain the traffic would leave him exhausted by the end of it.

Unfortunately, just as he closed his eyes and leaned into his seat, the distinct sound of a car failing to start kept him from fully relaxing. He listened to the sound for several minutes before growing annoyed. After finally having had enough, he started his own car and began driving through the parking garage slowly in search of the source.

He quickly eased to a stop the moment he recognized the SUV stuck sputtering in its spot.

Cursing under his breath, he watched Olivia try pointlessly to start her car again.

For fuck's sake.

It was like he couldn't stay away even when he wanted to. He considered just returning to his own spot and leaving her be; but as he took in the sight of her frustrated face, he knew if the sound didn't, his own guilt would lead him right back to her anyways.

Pulling into an empty spot beside her and rolling down his window, he honked lightly to get her attention. She looked in his direction, her eyes widening the moment she spotted him, before she finally rolled down her window.

"Hi."

"Hi." He cleared his throat, finding it suddenly dry as he took her in. "Do you need help?"

She nodded, her eyes giving away her embarrassment. "Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled despite himself. "Only to anyone within a two-mile radius."

She grimaced playfully and exited her car, prompting him to do the same.

Soon they were face-to-face, and he realized it was the closest they had been since the night at the bar. He shoved his hands in his pockets and suppressed all immediate memories of wrapping his arms around her, of pressing his lips against hers.

He didn't realize he was staring until she cleared her throat and noticeably shifted her gaze to something in the distance.

"I think it might be my battery." She stepped aside, allowing him access to her car.

He slid into the seat, noting how little space there was for him. It reminded him of just how much smaller she was compared to him, and he couldn't stop the thoughts of how perfectly they seemed to have meshed together when she had her legs wrapped around him. Against his better judgment, he glanced at her. She appeared to be stifling a giggle, obviously also taking note of their size difference.

"You can adjust the seat if you want."

He shook his head, instead trying to start the car once. He listened intently to the resulting, low whine, before getting back out.

"I think you're right." He moved to open the hood of the car, with her following close behind. "Do you have jumper cables?"

She left his side for a moment, and by the time she returned, he had the hood propped up.

"Here you go."

As he reached for the cables, their hands touched, and he was flooded by the same sense of warmth he felt the first time they linked. He clenched his jaw and willed himself to ignore it.

He needed to move past this – whatever this was. Obviously she was set on doing so, and he was certainly no stranger to one night stands, so why couldn't he get over her and the little time they had spent together?

He didn't dare to look at her this time, instead hooking up the cables and walking over to his car. When the hood was opened and the other end of the cables connected, he sat in the driver's seat.

He started his car, and after a moment, she sat in her own car to try, smiling widely when it finally worked.

"You're a lifesaver. Thank you so much," she spoke, now smiling directly at him.

He immediately pushed aside thoughts of how content the sight made him. They had already engaged more than he thought they ever would again, and he wanted to maintain some semblance of distance between them.

Yet, even so, he couldn't stop the grin spreading across his own face as he responded, "No problem."

Minutes later, as he disconnected the cables and prepared to leave, she called out to him, "Mr. Grant?"

He tried to ignore how strange it felt to hear her address him so formally.

"Yes?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

He eyed her curiously, noting the way she was playing with her hands.

"I mean," she continued, "I know this is probably your lunch hour, and you really helped me out." She looked away, avoiding his gaze. "I'd love to buy you lunch or something as a thank you."

She was biting her lip now, and all he could see were flashes from that night – when his thumb ran across that same lip, when they leaned in, when his lips finally touched hers.

He swallowed thickly and checked his watch. Although he had twenty minutes before he was supposed to leave for his first trip to the airport, the idea of spending any more time with her seemed a lot like playing with fire.

Weighing his options, he studied her for a moment. She returned her gaze to him, her eyes warm and inviting – and a little bit unsure – and he found himself unable to deny her anything.

"What did you have in mind?"

Keeping in consideration his time restraints, she suggested a small deli just up the street. Given that it was a nice day out and trying to find parking outside the garage seemed like more trouble than it was worth, they decided to walk.

They kept a reasonable distance between them, and he had to repeatedly shut down the urge to move closer. They engaged in meaningless small talk under the guise of polite professionalism that - although he didn't want to admit it - seemed entirely too forced. Just like the night they met, there was an air of familiarity between them that made any attempts at plain acquaintanceship just...odd.

"You're gonna love this place." She smiled brightly when they finally arrived, slightly easing the tension between them.

He opened the door for her and was immediately surprised by the large crowd that met them.

"Sorry." She turned to him, smiling apologetically. "I forgot just how bad the lunch rush can get."

He strained to hear her over the general rumble of loud voices talking over one another. There were far more people than he had expected, with the line winding around itself and ending just at the door.

Just as someone else walked inside, she gently pulled his arm, guiding him to the side so that they weren't pushed into the crowd. From their new spot in a corner, he surveyed the group once more, figuring that it would take twenty minutes just to get a chance to order.

Seeming to read his thoughts, she leaned up on tippy-toes and spoke directly into his ear, "Don't worry, we won't have to wait on line."

He shivered at the feel of her so close, forgetting for a moment that they were supposed to be little more than two acquaintances getting lunch.

Suddenly, she grabbed his arm again and led him to the front counter. They earned a few glares as they completely bypassed the line and walked straight to the small space next to the register.

"Hey, Tommy."

The man at the register looked in their direction, his face lighting up immediately when he saw her.

"Liv! Hey, Ernie," he turned, calling for someone in the back kitchen, "Liv's here!"

Within seconds, a man almost identical to the one at the register came rushing out, a huge smile forming on his face.

"Well it's about damn time." He walked up to Olivia, pulling her into a hug. "How're you doing, kid? We haven't seen you in forever."

She laughed, patting his arm as they pulled away from the hug. "Things have been kind of hectic, but I'm good."

"Yeah?" Tommy spoke next, simultaneously nodding to greet the next customer. "The new promotion's treating you well? That old windbag isn't overworking you, is he?"

"Nothing I can't handle." She answered with a grin. "What about you guys? How are things going over here?"

"Things are amazing," the second one – Ernie – spoke, "as you can see." He gestured with a smirk at the long line, now starting to fall out the door. "I'm telling you, Liv, ever since you helped us with those ads, business picked up and hasn't stopped."

"Yeah," Tommy joined in again, "we're even gonna be on one of those shows, you know, the ones where they send someone to visit and you show them around."

Fitz watched the genuine excitement grow on her face at the announcement, an overwhelming sense of endearment filling him at the sight.

"Really? That's amazing," her voice rose with her excitement. "Just tell me when, and I'll make sure to set my DVR."

Ernie nodded enthusiastically, opening his mouth to respond when he was suddenly called from the back.

"I gotta go, Liv, but we'll make sure to catch up sometime soon, yeah?"

"Absolutely."

Just as he started walking away, he turned back to her. "Just the regular today?"

"It's on the house," Tommy cut in. "As always."

She turned to Fitz, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Do you like pastrami?"

He nodded, and she called out to Ernie, "Make that two."

Five minutes later, they walked out saddled with two pastrami sandwiches and a single can of Pepsi.

"So, you guys seemed pretty friendly," he noted as they began their walk back to the parking garage.

She laughed softly, nodding her head. "They're the best. I don't go as often as I used to, but it's always great to see them."

"How do you know each other?" He glanced at her, allowing himself a moment to appreciate just how beautiful she looked up close, particularly with the sun highlighting her features.

"I used to go pretty regularly when I came up here for grad school. That was back when they're dad was still around and owned the place," she recalled. "But he died a few years back, and business wasn't doing too well, and they were thinking about selling the place." She suddenly stepped a foot away, and he realized after a moment she was avoiding walking over a grate.

"We were on a first-name basis at that point," she continued when they rejoined, "and I had been working at the firm for a few years, so I pulled some strings and got an ad campaign up and running for them pro bono."

Though he was listening to her story, he couldn't help but be distracted by the fact that they were now close enough for her arm to brush against his slightly every few seconds.

"It worked enough to keep business running, and the rest was all on them." She shrugged. "I know Katz's has the title, but I really think they make the best pastrami sandwiches in the city."

He grinned at her statement. "No wonder they don't make you pay. You saved them, and you give glowing reviews."

She laughed, shaking her head. "They say they won't let me pay for another sandwich ever – it's their way of paying me back. But I do find a way to make them take my money occasionally."

"Like buying a drink?" He questioned, gesturing to the soda in his hand.

She smirked. "Exactly."

They arrived at the garage and slowly made their way to the cars, the atmosphere around them much less tense than when they left.

She unlocked her door, and he watched confusedly as she slid into the passenger's side. When she left the door open, he took the hint and sat in the driver's seat in his own car, also leaving his door open to create the sense of a makeshift booth between them.

"Do you have to get going soon?"

He checked the time. "I have about ten minutes left."

She nodded, taking out napkins to line her lap before she started unwrapping her sandwich. He quickly followed behind her, groaning unintentionally when he finally took his first bite.

"I told you." She beamed, her eyes watching him intently. "It's the best."

"I'll give it to you." He took another bite, barely chewing before he swallowed. "This is amazing."

She hummed as she took a bite of her own sandwich. "I forget just how good it is sometimes. I don't think I'll ever wait that long to go back again."

"Please take me with you the next time you go."

"It's a date," she joked, then suddenly seeming to realize what she said, cleared her throat and looked away. "I, uh –"

He could see that she was embarrassed, and as a diversion held up the soda, offering, "Did you want this?"

She eyed the can, still not looking at him directly. "No, it's ok. I don't really drink soda."

"Just wine and bourbon," he recalled, unable to help himself.

She looked at him then, and for a moment, the tension and the pretenses dissolved entirely.

They exchanged small, reminiscent smiles.

"How have you been?" She asked suddenly, her eyes soft and her body language open.

He knew they were no longer trying to play professional – that this was the Olivia he had first met that night.

"Honestly?" He questioned with a raised brow, continuing only after she nodded. "I've been better."

She looked down, her expression giving little away.

"What about you?" He tried after a moment of silence. "I mean, things seem to be going well…" He stopped then, leaving mentions of his boss only for implication.

"I don't know if I'd say that," she offered after a long moment. "Things are still…complicated."

Her eyes finally met his, and he was surprised by the vulnerability he found in them.

She looked conflicted, her mouth opening then closing before she finally started, "Mr. Grant –"

He bristled at how wrong it sounded.

"I think we're a little past that Mr. Grant crap."

He knew he was being hypocritical – considering that he had been the one to push for it in the first place; but gone was his resistance from only a half hour ago. He couldn't pretend that the little time they spent together wasn't burned into his brain for all of eternity, or that he'd somehow forget how easy it was to just be with her.

"I don't think we should –"

"Olivia," he interrupted.

She tried to hide a smirk, crossing her arms. "I thought you wanted to move past our 'brief history' – your words."

He chuckled as she gave him a pointed stare.

"I just…" he trailed off, trying to understand his own actions. He knew they needed to keep their distance, and yet every impulse inside him told him otherwise. Being open with her was instinctive, and he wasn't sure he could stop the desire if he tried.

He finally settled on, "I'm just asking you to say my name."

She shook her head. "That would be inappropriate." He could see that she was still trying to fight off a smile.

And then, because he couldn't stop himself, he immediately returned, "Then let's be inappropriate."

She didn't say anything for a long while, looking everywhere but at him.

He waited with bated breath, almost a full minute going by before he unwillingly checked his watch to see that he should have already left.

"I, uh, I have to go." He started to get himself together, trying to pay little attention to the wave of disappointment settling over him.

But just as the regret set in, and he reached to close his door, she spoke – her voice quiet and shy, "Thanks again for everything…Fitz."