A/N: So that fight in the Oval had me feeling some type of way. I just…I can't with them when they butt heads. It's a kink. I can't explain it. Well this is what would have happened after the fight if I was in charge, no shade. And y'all know I'm feeling some type of way if I'm writing canon. Chile…they got me—hook, line, and sinker.

Olivia stormed into the Oval office and slammed the door behind her, hard enough to make the pictures above Charlotte's desk shake. Charlotte glanced back at the door, wondering if she should clear the immediate area. She knew the president and Ms. Pope were loud by nature, but judging from the force of the slammed door, she guessed this exchange would be off the Richter scale.

"What?" she heard Olivia yell. A small smile crossed her face as she pushed her chair back from her desk and asked all the staff in the immediate area to leave.

Inside the office, Olivia glared at Fitz, her eyes aflame. He stared back, his arms crossed, completely unfazed by her angry face. A smile tugged at his lips but he didn't let it show. He uncrossed his arms, cooly placed his hands in his pockets. "Put down your purse."

"What?" she repeated.

"Put down your purse. And take off your jacket. You'll be here a while," he replied, pushing his chair back from his desk and taking a seat.

She glared at him, pointing the way she did when she was angry. "You do not summon me. I have things to do."

"You don't have anything to do. You've been here every night. Unless someone on my staff is having a crisis of epic proportions, you haven't been busy." He smiled cheekily. "Do what I said."

Olivia did as she was told with a huff then walked around the desk. The flame in her eyes flickered, love threatening to dampen it, as she looked at him. "What do you want?"

Fitz stood and was immediately in her space. Olivia shifted her weight onto the foot farthest from him. She always lost control when he was close enough to smell him, and they were in the Oval, surrounded by cameras. But already his scent was in her nostrils: her Dove soap, his Dolce and Gabanna Light Blue cologne, a hint of the woods, and something musky—something oh so manly that gave her goosebumps. He stepped an inch closer, his belt buckle brushing her hip. "Do you think I'm funny, Olivia?"

"What?" She turned to look at him questioningly.

"Do you think I'm funny? Am I a joke to you?" Olivia's eyes flickered from her feet to his hands moving to his tie. He loosened the knot and removed it, laying it across the desk. It was blue, with little white polka dots, a gift from her from Hugo Boss. "Or do you just think you can talk to me however you please? Do you think because you haven't been punished in such a long time that you can behave however you want?"

Olivia's eyes fell to her shoes, the black pointed toes gleaming. "No Sir."

"Then why did you raise your voice to me earlier? Did you think you could get away with it because we had company?"

"I was only—I'm sorry."

At this he chuckled, deep but soft in a way that made her insides quiver. "Are you sure you're sorry? What did we decide about being sorry last time?"

"That I can't be sorry until I've gotten what I deserve," she replied.

"And what do you deserve?"

Olivia stole a glance at him. His eyes were dark but sparkling with anticipation, and the most devilish smirk played on his lips. "To be punished."

Fitz chuckled again. "Assume the position."

Olivia took a step back from the desk then leaned forward and placed her palms flat on its cool wood surface. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as she heard Fitz unbuckle his belt. He ran the smooth leather over her offered backside then quickly removed it. "No. This won't do. You need old fashioned discipline."

He slowly lowered the zipper on her left hip and pulled her houndstooth-patterned slacks down, letting them fall around her ankles. He ran his index finger down the seam of her sheer black panties. "These are pretty. Are they new?"

"Yes," Olivia half-gasped, her knees snapping together. Fitz smirked at the subtle rubbing of her thighs.

"I think I'll take these later," he replied. They would fit nicely in his collection of her lingerie. He swirled a circle in the damp small of her back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes Sir."

She gasped at the swift contact of his palm with the lush right globe of her bottom, her teeth quickly sinking into her bottom lip to avoid crying out.

"I [slap] think [slap] you [slap] like [slap] being [slap] punished [slap]." His hand came to rest on her stinging right cheek and he caressed it gently, soothing the pain. His voice was a hoarse whisper that made her shudder. "Is that it? Is that why you test me?"

"No Sir," Olivia insisted, her thighs still rhythmically rubbing, creating just enough tension between her throbbing clit and the silk of her panties to make her mind hazier than it already was.

"I think you're lying." He moved from one cheek to the other, gently massaging her batter, undoubtedly red flesh. Olivia shrieked softly when he smacked her still-smarting flesh with an unbothered palm. "You [slap] will [slap] learn [slap] to [slap] be [slap] a [slap] good [slap] girl [slap]."

"Yes Sir." His hand resting on her stinging flesh once more, moving down to run his fingertips over the damp fabric.

"So wet, Livvie. You're not enjoying this are you?" She looked back at him and found him smirking darkly at her. "Naughty, dirty girl."

He gave her one last slap and the levies broke within her. Olivia shuddered, letting out a guttural groan, as her thighs reached a frenzy. She sagged against the desk as her climax ripped through her, her eyes snapping shut. Fitz chuckled, placing a hand on her lower back to prevent her from sliding onto the floor. Fitz lifted her off her feet and set her on the desk, quickly slipping off her pants and panties. Olivia's legs encircled his waist and she clung to him, still tremoring with aftershocks. "Fuck me now!"

Fitz quickly undid his pants, her frantic hands fighting with his to get them undone. His erection sprung free and immediately aimed at her center. His teeth in the supple flesh of the hollow of her throat, he plunged into her wetness and set off another earthquake of a climax.

"Fuck," she gasped, moving frantically against him. "Fuck me hard!"

Fitz set a thunderous pace, his hips rolling and thrusting into hers as she raced toward another climax. He could barely make out all her pleas as they fell from her lips, her fingernails scraping his shoulders. "BitemeharderBitemynippleDeeperFasterFuckFuckFuck!"

Fitz placed his hands on the desk behind her and slammed his hips into hers, the desk gently scooting forward with each thrust. Her yeses crescendoed into soft mules until she finally froze in a soundless scream, her nails in his shoulders and her mouth resting beside his ear. Still she urged his on, kissing and mewling, her arms wrapped around his neck to tug at his curls softly. "Oh baby…daddy…"

He snapped, his hips rolling with reckless abandon. He only earned that name, that gentle capitulation, when he had pushed her to her peak. His climax was nothing short of an explosion, a white hot burning that combusted into sated blackness as his seed flowed inside her. He collapsed atop her, trailing wet kisses up her neck to her lips. "Now that's how you be a good girl."

She giggled, soft and airy with exhaustion. "Yes Sir."

A/N: Don't forget to review! XOXOXOXO