Olivia barely manages one knock on the door before it flies open.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle bursts out, "I'm sorry, but you were the first person I thought to—"

"You were right to," Olivia assures her, stepping inside and surrendering to the urge to pull her into a hug. The senator seems thankful for it, letting out a breath. She pulls away and gingerly touches the bruise on Carlisle's cheek.

"It's fine. I'm mostly just…startled." Carlisle opens her mouth to say more, but another knock on the door interrupts her. Her eyes fly to it. Olivia squeezes her arms.

"I called the rest of my team on the way. I want all our eyes on this."

Huck is the first to arrive. Quinn, Abby and Harrison follow shortly thereafter. By that time, Carlisle has calmed down considerably and Olivia has given her a cup of tea to nurse while they examine everything.

Olivia looks at the photographs on the mantle. One of the stepson's high school graduation catches her eye. Both Carlisle and her husband stand behind the teenager wearing identical proud smiles. "Where's your husband?"

"Hawaii, on a summit with his church. I was just about to call—" Abby strides forward and snatches the phone from the Senator's hand. "What in the world are you—?"

"No phone calls," says Abby firmly.

The senator's eyes fly to Olivia. "Miss Pope—!"

"Just for now, Senator Carlisle. The less you involve the people you love in this, the safer everyone will be."

Carlisle rubs her thumbs over her mug and bows her head resolutely. "Very well."

Olivia motions them all towards the broken window.

"Is it okay to be here?" Quinn asks under her breath, glancing back at the senator. "Whoever it was who broke in might come back."

"Good, that would make our jobs a hell of a lot easier," says Harrison. "He'd be the dumbest criminal in the world if he came back now."

"We only need enough time to examine the scene and figure out what to do. Gloves on," Olivia commands, putting on a pair herself. "What have we got?"

"Perp entered here, obviously," says Abby, motioning to the busted window. She leans down and opens up a thin box of dark powder. "Strategically chosen as it points away from the street and is blocked by Senator Carlisle's rosebushes."

"What woke you up, Senator?" Olivia asks. "The sound of the glass breaking or the sounds of him moving around inside?"

"A little of both, I think. I thought I heard something rattling, but I thought I was dreaming. I don't worry much about noises, because the alarm—"

"What alarm?" Olivia demands, circling back to look at the front door. Sure enough, there's a panel there. "Huck."

He's at her side in an instant, meticulous fingers flipping it open and experimentally pressing buttons. "The PCU is dead. How long has this been out?"

"It was working fine when I came home tonight," Carlisle responds. "I arm it going out and coming in."

"Whoever broke in disabled it, then," Huck mutters, going back to the living room window. He leans down past Abby and rips something off the broken glass. He holds it up for Carlisle to see—an ADT decal. "I hate these things. All they do is tell intruders there's an extra step they have to take before busting into your home."

"So the burglar came around to the window, saw the sticker, figured out there was an alarm and then disabled it," Harrison summarizes.

"Someone smart enough to do that, and smart enough to know not to cut power to the house in the process," continues Huck. "What time did you go to bed, Senator?"

Carlisle glances at the wall clock. "A little after ten, like I always do."

"And you called me at twelve-thirty nine," Olivia says. She looks at Huck. "An hour and a half, tops."

"Not getting any prints," announces Abby, running her brush over the sill before wiping it clean of powder. "He had gloves on."

"This is not an amateur," Huck concludes. "Someone knows what they're doing."

Quinn is examining a curio cabinet next to the window. "Was anything stolen?"

"Not that I can see," Carlisle says, shaking her head.

"So the sounds woke you up. What did you do next?" Olivia asks.

Carlisle inhales. "I…I climbed out of bed and looked out into the hallway. I was sure I heard footsteps, so I followed the sound." One trembling hand covers her face. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"That if it was an intruder, your alarm would've gone off," Quinn says, warmth in her eyes.

"I edged down the hall as quietly as I could. And then…" She takes another breath. "It was a man. He stepped right into the hallway from the living room. He rushed at me and I didn't—couldn't move. Couldn't make a sound. He hit me, and I fell."

Harrison comes over to Carlisle, a question in his eyes. She nods and gently, he tilts her head in his direction and examines the bruise. "Back of the hand," he announces, brushing a thumb under the small cut against her cheekbone and pulling away the second she winces. "He was wearing a ring on his middle finger. His gloves must have been thin enough that the ring cut through it—cheap cloth, probably."

"Did you get a look at him? Facial features, clothing?" Abby prompts.

Carlisle shakes her head. "He was wearing black and had a mask over his face. I couldn't even see his eyes. He was tall, maybe five inches taller than me. After he got me on the ground, he climbed on top of me and pinned my wrists down in one hand."

An alarm goes off in Olivia's head. "Did he say anything?"

Carlisle lowers her eyes and wraps her arms around her body. "Dyke." Olivia's eyes connect with Abby's. "And then, it was over. He just got up and ran off, back through the window. I don't know what happened. After, I called you."

Olivia looks around at the living room. Other than the window, nothing else is out of place. When she meets the eyes of her employees, she knows they've reached the same conclusion. Not a burglar.

"We need to relocate her," Harrison states. "She needs to stay in the offices."

Carlisle leaps to her feet. "Absolutely not."

"Pack a single change of clothes. Don't use any of her luggage," Olivia tells Quinn, who nods and heads to the bedroom.

"Miss Pope! This could have been completely unrelated to the photographs. Just because he called me—"

"It's related, Senator. Trust me. And even if I didn't think it was, I wouldn't gamble your life on that slim chance."

"It isn't your life to gamble!"

Olivia looks at Carlisle levelly. "Yes it is, Senator. You hired me to protect you from scandal and part of that protection requires that you do exactly what I tell you." Carlisle averts her gaze and folds her arms over her chest. Olivia takes a step closer. "Linda, there's a reason you called me and not the police."

"I have to be there to vote. I have to."

In that moment, Olivia wants nothing more than to break her cardinal rule and make a promise. "We have three days to get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, you have to come with us, Senator. Let us do our work."

Carlisle finally nods, lowering herself onto the couch again. Olivia thinks that when she finds whoever's behind all of this, she's going to hurt them for reducing such a powerful woman to this.

She turns to her gladiators. "As if she was taken. Get to it."

"I've got the bedroom and hall," Harrison says, disappearing into the hallway.

Huck climbs out of the window and surveys the grass. "Abby, I'm going to need you."

"What are they doing?" Carlisle asks, watching Abby follow Huck outside before turning to Olivia.

"We're going to make it look like you were kidnapped," she explains, her brain moving a mile a minute. "Like this person broke in and took you right out of bed." Olivia hits the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. "Just in case the neighbors are looking."

"I don't understand."

"Huck is dragging Abby through the yard as though trying to abduct her, to make it look like the lawn is mussed. Harrison is going to make the bedroom and hallway look like scenes of a struggle." Carlisle is craning her neck to get a look down the hallway. She flinches when something clatters to the floor—a lamp, probably. Olivia sits down next to her. "Listen to me, Senator. This is effectively going into hiding. You are going to leave everything here—purse, wallet, keys, cell phone. Everything. Nothing but the clothes on your back and the single change Quinn's packing for you."

"My husband's coming back in two days."

Olivia regards her sympathetically. "You can't be in contact with anyone, family included."

Carlisle's eyes widen. "He's going to think I'm—"

"I'm sorry, Senator."

"Going somewhere safe, I can understand, but…letting him think I'm missing? Dead?"

"That's the point. When people discover you're missing, the media will be all over it and it will put heat on whoever's behind the blackmailing."

"You want to flush them out," Carlisle hedges.

"That's the plan. When the attacker realizes that you're missing when he knows for a fact that he just roughed you up and left you here, he and his boss are going to have words and hopefully panic. And when people panic, that's when mistakes are made."

"I still don't understand why my family can't—"

"Because they aren't politicians, Senator," Olivia says flatly. "When the story breaks there are going to be schools of reporters swarming around them, asking them what they know and how they feel and unless you've been in this business like we have, you don't know how to lie, or how to put on a face. Every word they say will be dissected. They will be under intense media scrutiny and the only way to ensure that people will believe that you're truly missing is to make sure your husband and stepson and parents honestly think you're gone."

"It just…seems so cruel." Carlisle gives Olivia a helpless look. "When this is all over, what do I say? How do I explain this to them?"

Olivia takes her hand. "We'll figure it all out. You won't be alone."

"Blood." Olivia turns to find Huck's head in the window. He motions to the jagged pieces of glass. "Kind of impossible to be dragged out of a broken window without cutting yourself."

Olivia looks to the senator next to her. She squeezes her hand. Carlisle, jaw set in determination, stands up.

It's well after one before they get Carlisle to the offices. Olivia has them leave separately, take different routes and arrive at different times just in case and she keeps her eyes fixed on the highway the whole way, but nothing seems amiss. The signs of the night are all on them by the time they bundle the senator into the elevator; Harrison is pinching his nose, Quinn is yawning and Abby is rubbing the back of her neck.

"Day's going to get a lot longer than this," Olivia murmurs, not unkindly, as the grates open up. As they pass by the kitchenette, Abby ducks inside to turn on the coffee maker. Harrison's eyes follow her and she catches sight of him looking when she emerges.

"Do you need a hand wiping that stupid look off your face?"

Harrison sighs. "Just when I start to think you're a decent human being."

"Life's full of disappointments, Chuckles."

Olivia holds up her hand when Harrison starts to respond. "Enough." She touches Carlisle's arm. "Is there anyone still in your office or at the switchboard this time of night?"

Carlisle nods. "My secretary would have gone home but her assistant Jonathan should still be there. The hill is never empty so close to voting."

"Good." One last thing to set it in motion. Olivia turns to Huck. "Spoof call the assistant," she says. "Make it sound like she's been gone for hours. This way, Senator," she says after Huck takes off towards his office. "You should try to get some sleep, if you can."

Carlisle rubs a hand over her mouth tiredly. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep until all this mess is over."

"You should try. A shower first, maybe? And we'll get you something to eat." She gives Carlisle her best reassuring smile and pushes open the door to the office. The senator's eyes wander over her indefinite new home and Harrison sets the bag on the sofa. She looks over her shoulder at Olivia and nods.

"I really do appreciate this," she intones, but the defeated look in her eyes undermines the words. Olivia nods and grips the handle to the door.

The second it closes, Abby whips around to Olivia. "It's Cross."

"We don't know—" Harrison begins but she cuts him off.

"It's Cross. A history of violence, the dyke comment, was there at the courier's office, and he's five-ten—five and a half inches taller than Carlisle."

"We need more," Olivia insists and Abby's expression turns incredulous.

"More of what? Do you need him to show up here holding a sign saying he did it?"

"He stopped. He pinned her to the ground but he stopped," Olivia presses. "Why would he stop?"

"Maybe he heard a noise? Or maybe he lost his nerve?" Quinn suggests.

"No, no, men like that don't lose their nerve. Cross has raped before, he knows what it feels like, he likes the way it feels. He had her there on the ground, the house was empty. He wouldn't have stopped." The scenario plays out in double time through Olivia's mind and she knows like she knows the sun will rise in the east that she's missing something.

"It's done," Huck says, rejoining them in front of Harrison's office. "Senator Carlisle was supposed to meet a family friend for a late meal and never showed. He was very concerned after not getting any answer at her home." He glances at his watch. "Cops should be called by four or five. I estimate that this will go public at dawn, just in time for the major networks to catch wind of it."

"Then you have three hours to nap and eat something before it's balls to the wall. By dawn, I want all of you out there talking to neighbors. Ask if they noticed anything suspicious for the last two days, any strange cars or people skulking around the house. Keep me apprised."

Olivia lets Harrison, Huck and Quinn pass her but when Abby moves to follow, she sweeps an arm out in front of her. "Stay with the client."

Abby's eyebrows fly up. "But I—"

"The neighbors might have seen you outside last night. We can't risk you questioning them."

"But we can risk Huck, also outside last night, questioning them," Abby fires back, quick as a whip and Olivia should've known that wouldn't work.

"Abby," she begins and doesn't get farther than that.

"Don't. Don't you use that patronizing speak-softly-because-the-client's-a-basket-case-right-now-tone of voice with me!" Abby's jaw is clenched tightly.

Olivia regards her, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Fine. Your past experiences are creating a conflict of interest in this case and I don't want you gathering evidence while your judgment is clouded so you will stay with Senator Carlisle until I'm certain you're ready to continue. Now go bring our client a cup of coffee and see if there's anything more you can get out of her."

A nerve in Abby's temple twitches, but she nods stiffly. "Fine."

Olivia doesn't go to her office. Instead, she goes to Huck's, pulls up a chair, and puts Addison Cross's social security number into the database, resigning herself to another sleepless night. She looks up at the board above his work station and studies the snapshots of Cross, pinned next to a few of Carlisle and Quentin, their fingers brushing but not entwined.

She thinks it's only a matter of time until the photos on the board transform, become a much more well-known politician and a woman in a white jacket, kissing underneath a tree at Camp David, heads pressed together looking over national security briefs, his left hand against hers with the golden band thrown into stark relief for all to see.

Olivia swallows and, with shaking hands, records Cross's home address into her notebook despite her gut screaming protests.

Carlisle takes a long shower and falls into a fitful sleep on Harrison's office sofa by seven AM. Shortly after, Olivia receives the morning's first phone call.

"Put me on speaker and tell me what you've got."

"Turn on your TV," says Huck.

Olivia does as he says and sure enough, there on the morning news is a shot of Carlisle's house, cordoned off with yellow police tape. Officers are milling about the lawn while the detectives head inside.

"Media circus," Huck continues. "Cops got here just before sunrise and the neighbors are singing like birds for the reporters."

"What's their tune like?"

"Neighbor to the right seems to think Linda Carlisle is having an affair because of the late hours she's been keeping," Harrison responds. "Because she couldn't possibly be helping to run the country so late at night."

"Not entirely off the mark but a few years too late. Could I have something a little more substantial, please?"

"Quinn managed to charm her way past the police and talk to the neighbor directly across from Carlisle. Seems there's been a strange car parked just up the street; showed up just a few days ago."

"Please tell me there was a license plate."

"I think Quinn's getting the make and model now, but—oh, shit."

"What? Harrison, what?" But Olivia looks at the TV and sees a familiar figure ducking under the police tape.

"Shit," Olivia repeats.

"You see him? I don't think he's seen us," Huck says.

"Let's keep it that way. All of you get out of there now. Do what you can with the info on the car. Send Quinn and Harrison back here," she adds, because they really don't need to be privy to Huck working his back channels for information.

"Done." Huck hangs up.

Olivia stares at David Rosen's face before switching off the TV, wondering who will make it to the offices first.

Half an hour later, Olivia's trying to make herself a pathetically small breakfast of a fried egg on a toasted bagel when her phone rings again. She looks at the caller ID, turns down the gas on the stove and moves into the hallway before answering, mindful of her client's nap.

"Pope."

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Oh he's pissed. Olivia bites her lips and realizes she isn't mature enough to not have some fun with this.

"Hi, hello, how are you?"

"Olivia." And in that moment, Olivia thinks that if he could reach one calloused hand through the Blackberry and wrap it around her throat, he would. She considers playing innocent with him but dismisses it just as quickly; he taught her too well not to see right through it.

"You're about an hour later than I expected you to be. Please don't tell me the great Cyrus Beene found out through Good Morning America like the rest of the plebs."

"I am not in the mood for this shit today. The vote is in three days and our ace in the hole is gone? Have you lost your mind?"

"It sounds like you're a hair's breath away from losing yours."

"Whatever little hidey-hole you've shoved her in, you take her out," Cyrus growls. "You take her out, dust her off and send her back to the hill."

"You know, this would be a lot more intimidating if you actually had any say in what I did with my clients."

"Olivia—"

"Carlisle was attacked, Cyrus. Swallow your pride, put on your knee guards and set up a meeting with the minority whip," she says before hanging up.

And just because her day couldn't possibly get any worse, the elevator dings behind her. She turns around, as prepared as she could ever be for Rosen and stops dead because that's not who's climbing out of the elevator.

"Miss Quentin," is all Olivia can say while her brain shifts gears.

"What happened?" Quentin demands, nearly sprinting towards Olivia. She looks harried and pale and like she hasn't slept in days. "I—I wake up this morning and turn on the news and hear that Senator Carlisle is missing. Someone took her. You were supposed to help her!" Quentin's eyes are red and her voice is loud, too loud.

Olivia snaps on and catches Quentin by the elbows. "Miss Quentin, listen to me—"

"Olivia?" She cranes her neck around to see Abby peeking her head out of the office. She tries as best she can to give Abby a loud and clear nonverbal signal to go, go that way, make sure Carlisle doesn't move, but all she can manage is wide eyes and a swift jerk of her head.

But Abby gets it, nods, turns around and bumps right into Senator Carlisle.

Olivia's head drops. Quentin goes limp in her hands. "Oh my god."

"Rebecca?"

"Oh my god." And Olivia steps aside because really, there's no point now. She pinches the bridge of her nose and turns to watch Quentin take a few unsteady steps towards Carlisle, who is standing there at the end of the hallway looking like she's seen a ghost. Behind the senator, Abby makes a helpless face and slides away from them towards Olivia as inconspicuously as possible.

Which doesn't matter at all, because there could have been a nuclear airstrike on the greater DC area and Carlisle and Quentin wouldn't notice it.

"I thought you were kidnapped," Quentin offers sheepishly, suddenly looking much younger than her forty years.

"I was. Technically." Carlisle seems incredibly small there, in jeans and a sweater and with a giant bruise on her cheek set with butterfly stitches. She's a far cry from the woman who gave the Senate verbal whiplash less than twenty-four hours ago.

And it seems to happen between blinks but Carlisle moves forward, propelled by something more than just her own feet, and falls into Quentin's arms.

Abby sidles up next to her, looks between the two of them and nods resolutely. "Donuts. We need donuts." She bumps Olivia's shoulder and all Olivia can do is sigh.

The next time the elevator dings, it's carrying Quinn and Harrison and Olivia's nerves are damn near shot for the day. She rounds on Harrison before he even steps off the lift and puts him on elevator duty. "If Rosen shows up, you stop him. I don't care if you have to strip for him, he does not cross this threshold, am I clear?"

"I can stay with Harrison and help," Quinn pipes up. "With watching for Rosen."

Harrison actually smiles. Quinn smiles back. Olivia glances between them and oh dear god.

"You stay," Olivia says to Harrison before taking Quinn by the elbow. "You, stop hanging out with Abby and come with me."

"Wouldn't it just be easier to relocate the two of them? Maybe to your apartment, like you did for me."

"I let you stay in my apartment because you're you." Quinn gives her a wide-eyed look and Olivia thinks, really, she needs to get over this hero thing. "The problem with my apartment is that David Rosen knows where I live."

"Well yeah, but he can't come barging in without a warrant—"

"He and I are at the point in our relationship where we don't let little things like the law get between our desire to be together," Olivia says, pushing the door to her office open and going around to the shelves behind her desk. "I want you to keep an eye on Carlisle's family—stepson, husband and parents. They're going to be in the center of a media hurricane and you will track everything they say. Here, this is everything Harrison collected on them when he read up on Carlisle."

"What am I looking for?" Quinn inquires, taking the files.

"Nothing. But just in case the blackmailer gets any wise ideas to go after her family, I want them on our radar so we get there first. Get to it," she says, dropping herself into her chair.

Quinn manages to get to the door before stopping and turning abruptly to face her. "What you said before, that was just a joke, right? You and David Rosen aren't—haven't…" Olivia just looks at her. Quinn takes a step back, looking rightfully mortified. "Okay."

Abby comes back with the donuts a few minutes later. "Do you know that Harrison is sitting in the hallway wearing a stupid, goofy grin on his face?"

"Yep," says Olivia, fingers flying across her keyboard.

"He's getting paid more than I am to sit in the hallway and grin?"

"You make as much as he does."

"But I fetch donuts. Thank god for Lily Ledbetter." Abby pauses. "Liv. One question."

She tilts her head to regard Abby sternly. "What?"

"Are you letting Quentin stay?"

"She wouldn't still be here if I wasn't."

"Why are you letting Quentin stay?"

"I'm pretty sure I heard you say one question."

"Olivia." She looks up to find Abby looking at her intently. Olivia is an idiot for thinking it wouldn't come up. And of course it's Abby bringing it to her attention, Abby who never lets anyone get away with anything.

"Because Senator Carlisle's had a hell of a night," Olivia says simply.

It doesn't completely satisfy her, but Abby gives a nod and hands her a glazed donut before going to her own office.

She returns her eyes to her Mac. She keeps her attention split on the work in front of her and what's happening on the television displays. Reporters' words blend together in a maelstrom of confusion about Senator Carlisle's whereabouts and the implication it has on the legislation to be passed or denied. The White House releases a statement to feed the networks and it's Cyrus's words coming out of the press secretary's mouth, but that sound bite dominates mid-morning and well into the afternoon. Thankfully, her phone stays silent.

Olivia isn't sure how much time has passed when a new voice breaks through the din, one that sounds achingly young and sad and her eyes fly up to the television to see a boy barely out of his teenage years standing in front of a bevy of microphones, eyes brimming with tears.

She doesn't even register what he says because it doesn't matter. Olivia almost overturns her chair in her haste; she races out of her office and jackknifes down the hall, hoping against hope that Carlisle and Quentin are too wrapped in one another to be watching the news.

The door to Harrison's office is closed but she can see through the glass that Carlisle is standing motionless in front of the TV, a hand over her mouth, eyes fixed to the young man being interviewed. Her shoulders are shaking. Quentin moves up behind her and Olivia watches them. She hasn't felt this helpless since she'd heard Quinn say sweet baby to her outside Amanda Tanner's hospital room.

She feels rather than sees him approach.

"A car matching the neighbor's description was stolen from a rental company a few miles away from Dulles International," Huck reports quietly.

"Any security footage?" He nods. "Good. Go over it with Harrison."

"Is that the stepson on the TV? Lucas?" inquires Huck.

"Yeah, that's Lucas."

"It figures the vultures would go for the kid first."

They watch as Quentin sets her hands on Carlisle's shoulders, far too slim to bear the burdens they do. Carlisle leans back against Quentin's body, a silent request for strength.

"It isn't fair," Olivia murmurs, pressing her fist against her mouth. "It's Sully St. James all over again. How many other people are out there who can't be with the people they love? How many of our cases next year will be exactly like this?"

"You give me the word and I'll go after Cross."

Olivia turns to Huck to find his eyes fixed on the senator. She can't say she isn't tempted. "We don't have enough information yet, Huck."

"I can get it for you."

Gooseflesh rises at the base of her neck. Olivia keeps her expression clear and moves closer, into Huck's line of sight. It takes a long, tense moment for Huck's eyes to switch from the couple in the room to Olivia, but she waits until she has his undivided attention before speaking. "Go over the footage with Harrison. That's what I need you to do for me. Do not go after Cross," she says firmly.

Even though she didn't say it, she knows that Huck heard the unspoken yet. He nods and walks away and Olivia breathes a little easier.

She is lying in bed decidedly not sleeping when her phone rings. It startles her and she considers letting it go for all of five seconds before twisting under the covers and fumbling on the nightstand for the receiver.

"Hi," he says and she misses the times when just hearing his voice was enough to make her day better.

"I didn't think you'd call tonight," she admits.

"Why not? Because of the Carlisle thing?"

"Someone attacked her. I had to do it, Fitz. I didn't want to and god knows she didn't want me to, but this isn't about blackmail anymore."

"You don't need to justify anything to me. The most important thing now is to keep her safe."

Olivia scoffs. "I wish your chief of staff understood that. Cyrus is probably going to spend all of tomorrow convincing the NSA that I'm a credible threat. Which is a real shame, since he and I were supposed to take a vacation together."

There's a brief moment of silence. "Cyrus? Vacation?"

"He's the one who suggested it. A tropical island getaway."

"Hmm, an island. Lots of water. Might be a good idea to take a Navy man along. You know, just in case."

For the first time that day, Olivia manages a smile. She sits up and leans against the headboard. "Sorry, sailor. Cyrus asked me first."

"Would the fact that I probably look better in swim trunks than he does change your mind?"

"…Possibly." And damn, that's a good thought. Fitz, all long military-toned limbs and smooth skin tanned from too much sun, covered in a sheen of sweat and sea-water, wearing wet shorts and the million-dollar smile that had teenage girls from Anchorage to Miami swooning over their commander-in-chief, padding across white sand while the ocean roared behind him, ruffling that deliciously curly hair and—

"What was that, Liv?"

"I—didn't say anything."

"Not anything intelligible, no, but I was sure I heard you make a sound." And Olivia is sure she can hear him smiling. "What are you thinking about?"

"This really nice black mesh bikini I'll be wearing while I'm on vacation." And this time, it's Fitz who makes a sound. Turnabout is indeed fair play.

Fitz sighs. "I'd ask you how work was, but I'm betting it was hell that you wouldn't care to revisit."

"You would win that bet, my friend."

"So instead, why don't you tell me something that made you happy today? Anything, even if it's small."

Olivia's fingers fiddle with the phone cord as she considers her response. An image of a hallway reunion floats into her mind. "Rebecca Quentin stormed the gate after the news broke, demanding to know why I didn't do more to protect Senator Carlisle."

"If she only knew all that you did."

"Well…she does. Carlisle saw her. They saw each other, for the first time in over a year. The looks on their faces were just…god, Fitz. Senator Carlisle just came alive." Olivia sighs and massages the back of her neck. "I let Rebecca stay with her in the offices. I know I shouldn't have and that it could only make matters worse, but if you had seen them together—there was no way I could've separated them. I didn't want to. I know I should've but I just..."

"You just wanted to let them have a minute," Fitz finishes softly and that cracks what little resolve she had left.

"I'm beginning to forget how your hair feels under my fingers," she blurts out, eyes prickling. He lets out a little breath and god, Olivia knows that feeling, being blind-sided with the misery that lingers beneath all the teasing conversations and laughter. "I'm scared to death that one of these days, it's going to be me and you up there on that wall. Pictures of us, recordings of phone calls and my staff is going to have to keep me in my office while they try to clean up the mess I've made of everything."

"You haven't made a mess of anything."

"And there are some days when I think to hell with it," she continues, covering her eyes with one hand. "To hell with it all. Let it come out, let everyone find out and let it ruin my career because then at least I can live out in the open again, without having to worry or go to bed at night feeling so damn empty." Her voice breaks and she can feel her chest tightening and it takes every ounce of strength she possesses to get her emotions under control again.

Then, she realizes he hasn't said anything. "Fitz?" And suddenly she's on her feet, heart pounding. "Fitz, are you still there?"

"Yes." His voice is tight.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling for a car."

The words steal her breath. "No!"

"Yes."

"Fitz, listen to me. Listen to me," she demands again when he doesn't respond. "We can't. You can't come here, not again—"

"Do you honestly expect me to just sit here and listen to you say those things sounding like you're about to cry and not—goddamn it, Olivia!" There is a banging noise, so loud that it makes Olivia jump.

It's the first time he's ever raised her voice with her and it shocks Olivia just how much it frightens her. Not for what he could do or say to her, because she knows he isn't angry with her, but for all that must be going through his head to have pushed him to the brink. Fitz is like her in that regard—always calm, collected, firmly in control. To hear him so angry is fundamentally wrong.

She inhales deeply and adopts the tone she did to reign Huck back earlier this afternoon. "I am not about to cry. I'm fine. I just had a…" Her voice trails. She can't call it a moment of weakness because then it would imply that those feelings were momentary, infrequent and she refuses to lie to him.

"Olivia," he says and oh, the grief in his voice. It breaks her heart every time she hears it but this she knows, this she can handle.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't—god, don't ever apologize. Not for that." Olivia can see him, in her mind's eye, sinking back into his chair in the Oval, face flushed, a hand covering his face, closing himself off from the world for the briefest of moments. "I hate this."

"I know."

"I hate this," he repeats vehemently. "I hate every minute that I can't be with you."

Olivia nods even though he can't see her. She waits for some of the stinging behind her eyes to go away before she speaks again. "What did you knock over?"

"A Faberge egg given to me by the Grand Duke of Luxembourg."

"Jesus Christ, Fitz!"

"Or just the paperweight Cyrus gave me after the Inauguration," he says. "You could fire a missile at that thing and not scratch it."

Olivia collapses onto her bed. "You are such an asshole."

"I need to see you, Liv. If not tonight, then soon. Very soon." He pauses. "You aren't the only one who goes to bed feeling empty."

And Olivia can't bring herself to argue with him this time. "Okay."

"Okay." He pauses and for one long, terrifying moment, Olivia thinks he'll say it. He clears his throat. "Sleep well, Liv."

She waits until the line goes dead before she lets out a single, choked sob. It is all she allows herself and after it's done, she hangs up the phone, gets under the covers again and lets her own I love you resonate through her head before she closes her eyes and wills sleep to take her.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated. Life kind of got in the way. Keep the reviews coming; I love hearing from you guys!

This story is primarily Olivia-and-co-centric and was always designed to have them as the focus. There's so little attention given to them in fanfiction and to Olivia without Fitz in the picture and I feel like they're due some spotlight. HOWEVER, if you do sail the good ship Olivia/Fitz and are hoping for more of them, stay tuned.