A/N: Once again, I love you guys. Thank you for your awesome reviews and PMs! I wish I could reply to your comments and questions individually. (Maybe we can chat on Twitter? I'm ebonybeach.) Thanks also for the well wishes about my new life in Oz (we moved here for work, for those who were curious - and it's amazing).
I'm working a LOT in the next few weeks and have a friend flying over too, so won't be able to update for a little while - apologies. But enjoy this in the meantime and happy TGIT - I hope tonight's episode is as good as 501!
Why Didn't I Meet You Sooner?
Fitz wakes for the third time that morning when his own alarm tells him it's nine thirty. He pulls on his boxers, uses the bathroom and then wanders through the suite in search of breakfast, which he finds on the enormous dining room table. There's fruit, cereal and yogurt but unsurprisingly the toast and coffee has long since gone cold. He makes his way over to the nearest phone and dials room service, requesting fresh supplies. It's only when he's hung up that he notices a phone number handwritten on the top sheet of the notepad.
I guess you've earned this, it says underneath, with a winking smiley face.
He texts her immediately. You guess?
He doesn't put his name - she'll know who he is. Sure enough, her reply comes through quickly: Ah, you're alive. I was about to send out a search party.
F: Will you be in the party? If so, ignore these messages. I'm definitely not fine, come find me please.
O: Ha, nice try. Have you gone back to your own room yet?
F: No, I like yours better. I think I might stay here instead. You can have my shoe box on the second floor.
O: Wow, thanks.
F: No problem. How's the conference so far?
O: Quite a few empty seats - you're not the only needing a lie in after last night. But it's good.
F: So good you're texting me?
O: It's called multitasking. You should try it some time.
He can't help but smirk to himself as he types his reply:I did, last night. And this morning. You seemed to think I was pretty great at it…
O: You are shameless! I'm putting my phone away now.
F: Wait!
F: Don't you want to know what I'm wearing?
O: No! I'm busy. I'm not thinking about you.
F: You are. You're thinking about all the things I'm gonna to you this afternoon, after our date…
O: I don't put out on first dates.
Fitz finds himself laughing out loud.It's a little late to take the high road don't you think, Livvie?
O: Last night was… uncharacteristic. If you really want me, you're gonna have to earn me. ;)
F: Oh, I am so up for the challenge.
O: I look forward to it… x
Fitz wonders if his heart might beat out of his chest. She makes him feel giddy, reckless; eighteen again and full of hope, of possibility. She makes him forget that he's forty with a failed marriage, an overbearing father and so many dreams still to achieve (a family of his own; a run for Governor; success in all his projects).
He knows exactly where to take her for lunch, and a quick phone call reveals a last minute cancellation which he snaps up before the poor restaurant manager has even finished his sentence. Then, full of coffee and toast smothered with the most delicious blackberry jam - his favorite breakfast; he's always had a sweet tooth - Fitz reluctantly dresses and makes his way back to his own room to shower. He hopes it won't be the last time he sees this suite and silently vows that, if he ever does become President of the United States, he will bring his First Lady back here to relive all the magic of the night they met.
He'd been planning on arriving at the conference for eleven o'clock but, after taking a rejuvenating shower and dressing in a black suit and crisp white shirt, he's both bored and missing her. The cab ride across the city only takes fifteen minutes, and he's there by twenty to.
The lobby is busy, full of people chatting and drinking coffee in the break between presentations. He spots Olivia across the room just as she's turning towards him, as if she could feel his presence as soon as he entered. The instant their gazes meet, everything else disappears. She is more beautiful every time he sees her, especially when she gets that look on her face: pupils dilated, eyelids suddenly heavy; lips parted just slightly as she sharply inhales. It's the look of lust, of 'Kiss me, Fitz,' and he wants to - no, he needs to. Desperately.
They're walking towards one another without realizing it, weaving through the crowd, but before he's even close enough to touch her she turns to her left, gesturing for him to follow. He catches the scent of her perfume again and it raises goosebumps on his skin. He wants to wrap her up in his arms, to run his palms down her body, to nibble on her neck and hear her moan his name. She's just irresistible.
And he's going insane.
He lingers, watching Olivia ask at the front desk if there's a private room where she can make a phone call. His eyes are drawn to her legs, bare from the knee down, ending in five inch heels which give her calves the most elegant shape. Is there any part of her which isn't perfect? He won't even entertain the idea that there is.
He can't bring himself to care that the staff have probably seen him following her into the small meeting room just off the lobby because the second they're alone, he's hard. They don't speak as he pushes her up against the door, holding her burning hot gaze for just a moment before leaning down and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She moans as their tongues meet, her sweet mouth so wet and warm. It reminds him of last night, of the rooftop and the taste of smoke and lying between her thighs, discovering her most intimately of all. Will he ever be able to kiss her and not think of all the other parts of her he wants to kiss as well?
Her hands rise to his hair as his slide beneath her skirt, his desire growing rapidly with every passing second. The way her body moves against him - rhythmically, like the most erotic dance - is almost too much. He grips her backside, pulling her even closer, helplessly trying to create more friction between her taut little abdomen and his straining erection. How is she doing this to him? What has she done to his libido, which no other woman has achieved so successfully since… well, ever?
"Fitz, we can't... Fitz!"
It takes a while for her voice, her warnings, to register, and even then he's too far gone to pay any attention.
"Livvie, we can." He moves his mouth to her neck, grazing his teeth along her skin, feeling her response in every muscle of her body. His left hand slides around her hip and beneath her underwear, and she's so unbelievably wet that he pushes two fingers inside of her with no preamble. The way she convulses almost makes him come apart.
"Fuck!"
It's nearly a scream and Fitz feels suddenly reckless again, like he wants the whole world to hear how absolutely crazy he is making this incredible woman.
"You're so fucking hot, baby. So ready," he murmurs as he continues to thrust his fingers into her heat, drenching his hand. He lifts her left leg over his right forearm, opening her up to him. "Did you miss me too? Did you miss the way I fuck your pussy?"
"Yes!" she hisses, her eyes closed, her exquisite features tense. He can't stop staring at her. He wants to see it up close: the moment she explodes.
"Are you going to come for me?"
"Yes!"
He trails his fingers to her clit, drawing firm circles there; intermittently returning to fuck her again. The combination pushes her right to the edge and then suddenly she's coming on his hand, crying out until she's totally spent and her sounds become whimpers. Fitz knows he'll never get tired of this as long as he lives. In the space of twelve hours, pleasuring Olivia Pope has overtaken everything else as his number one goal in life.
He gently slips his fingers out of her and lowers her foot to the floor, keeping her steady with the weight of his body pressing her into the door. He can't help but feather kisses across her face, eventually focusing in on her lips. She's barely responsive and it makes him smile with immense satisfaction.
When she finally speaks, it's to ask what the time is.
Fitz chuckles as he digs out his phone from his jacket pocket. "It is… ten fifty two. Why? Do you have somewhere better to be?"
Her head falls back, her dark eyes opening just slightly to gaze up at him. She looks thoroughly sated and it's a beautiful sight. "Very funny, mister. Fuck, how am I supposed to go back out there? I get so carried away with you…"
She sounds annoyed, with herself more than with him. The last thing he wants to do is upset her, but she's right - they just get lost in each other. Rational thought goes flying out the window whenever she's in his proximity.
"Should I be apologizing?" he asks sincerely.
"Yes." But a smile is beginning to curve her lips. "No… I don't know!"
He shares her smile. "Okay. I'm sorry, and I'm not sorry."
She reaches for him, kissing his mouth. "I hate you."
"No you don't."
"No, I don't. But I have to go freshen up." She gently pushes him away and he lets her, watching as she smooths down her blouse and skirt. "I can't believe I have to go on stage in front of hundreds of people when I'm barely five minutes post-orgasm."
"So unprofessional Livvie," he teases, and the dark look she gives him makes him smirk. That is, until she reaches out and rubs her palm over the bulge in his pants. His eyes fall shut and he can't stop the groan that leaves his throat.
"What are you doing?"
Her words are whispers next to his ear as her hand continues its sweet torture. "Just making sure I'm not the only one who's going to be uncomfortable for the next two hours."
And now he hates her too, in that same way which isn't hate at all but something more like… love.
Olivia is so incredible on the Question and Answer panel that Fitz actually manages to survive the entire session without once thinking about her naked. From the very first moment she speaks (about ten minutes in - he likes to think she needed the extra recovery time), he is enthralled by her. She completely owns it, answering each question with more eloquence than her colleagues, debating points with such thoughtfulness for someone so young. Was it only yesterday morning that he was first blown away by her brilliant mind, her passionate soul? It feels like a lifetime has passed between then and now. He feels like a different man - a better man, all for knowing her.
When they meet afterwards, as the crowd files through to the dining room for lunch, he just wants to give her a hug and tell her how proud he is of her. But they're in public and he doesn't want to be patronizing - she knows how good she is; he can see it in her eyes, in her confident posture. That was the first thing which attracted him to her and it's even more arousing now, after everything they've already shared. He thinks his eyes are probably showing her his feelings anyway, because her smile grows and there's a hint of blush on her cheeks which wasn't there before.
It's sunny outside, the Sunday sky a gorgeous shade of light blue. The taxi Fitz ordered just before the end of the panel is already waiting for them. When she asks where they're going he just tells her to be patient, but he finds his own instruction hard to follow when she slides her soft hand into his and links their fingers together like they've been doing this for years, not hours.
It only takes ten minutes to reach their destination, and the look of wonder on her face when she realizes where they are is breathtaking. "Are we going up there?" she asks when they've exited the cab, looking skywards, trying to make out the very top of The Shard.
"Yes."
"Oh my god. This is awesome."
Fitz takes her hand again and tries not to appear as smug as he feels.
They ride the elevator to the restaurant on the thirty first floor - not even halfway up, but the views are still astounding. He buys two flutes of Champagne and they stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his arm around her waist, his hand on her hip like it belongs there. Her warmth, her closeness, is turning him on in that slow burn way.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks at length, after he's pointed out all the landmarks (the sun shining on St Paul's is particularly stunning) and she's gone quiet, taking it all in.
She turns to him; reaches up to stroke her fingertips down his cheek. "How special this is. How lucky I am, to have met you."
Fitz smiles and leans down to kiss her, not caring that they're out in the open and someone might recognize her. He thinks they look like any other couple enjoying the view: happily and hopelessly smitten. "I'm the lucky one," he says softly, his voice deep and honest. He gazes at her for several seconds before speaking again, revealing the biggest regret of his life - one he didn't know he had, until yesterday.
"Why didn't I meet you sooner? Why did I marry her, and not wait for you to show up?"
Olivia's smile doesn't falter - she just takes his confession in her stride. "How long have you been married for?"
"Ten years. But we dated for two before that." He's captivated by her: even close up her skin is flawless; her eyelashes so long and beautifully curled. As he watches, her smile broadens into a grin, revealing her perfect teeth.
"Well, Fitzgerald, that would have been illegal - I was fourteen twelve years ago."
He can't help but laugh: a proper laugh, not the forced ones he's been giving his wife for too many years. "Okay, smart ass. You know what I meant." He lets his hand slip down onto her backside, gently squeezing her against him as his tone becomes more playful. "Anyway, I would have waited for you. Maybe even until you were legal."
Her eyes widen. "Maybe?"
"I find it very hard to be patient around you," he admits, and he's serious again because it's true. He wants to do everything with her, right now. He wants to date her, to take her to bed; to make her giggle, to listen to her talk for hours about her hopes and fears. He wants to be part of her life; to welcome her into his so she can fill up all the spaces that have been empty for far too long.
"Do you think we're going too fast?" she wonders aloud, and his response is immediate.
"No. I think we can go as fast or as slow as we want to. There are no rules, Liv."
"Well, you only left your wife a month ago and I haven't dated anyone since Edison, so-"
"That's his name? The guy who broke your heart?" She nods. "I hate him already."
Olivia laughs, but there's sadness is her eyes. "Don't. He's not worth it."
Fitz feels a fierce desire to protect her, to make all her hurt go away forever. "Will you tell me about it one day?"
"Yes."
There's a natural pause, but he can see she's still unsettled as her gaze drifts back to the window. He tilts her chin up with his finger, forcing her to look at him again. "Do you think we're going too fast?"
And he sees it then: how she falls in love. It's in the way her face softens; how her eyes light up like stars. "You always reflect my questions back to me… Why?"
"Because I want to know what you're thinking. If you're happy, I'm happy. If you're not, I want to know what I can do to fix it."
And now there are tears sparkling in her eyes and he's taken aback. He frowns; holds her closer. "What's wrong?"
She blinks a few times, looking at him like she's never seen him before. "Fitz, are you real? We barely know each other and you've already treated me better than he did in two whole years. I thought you were a good guy as soon as we met, but you're just… you're kind. You're sweet. When you look at me, I feel like you're actually looking at me and not thinking about something else."
"Of course I am. How could I be thinking about anything else?" And it dawns on Fitz, then, just how much this guy Edison has fucked her up. "What did he do to you, Liv?"
Does he look as horrified as he sounds? Because he thinks his heart might be breaking for her.
"I can't… I can't talk about it here."
"Whatever kind of man he was, I want you to know we're not all like that." He's speaking forcefully; willing her to believe him. "There are still good people out there. I like to think I'm one of them, although on paper I am an adulterer, so… perhaps not."
That makes her smile. He'd do anything to make her smile.
"You're an honest adulterer, at least," she says, clearly making an effort to keep her voice light. "That's what matters to me, now. Honesty above everything."
Fitz leans down, resting his forehead against hers. "I promise I won't ever lie to you, Olivia."
She takes a deep, shaky breath. "I believe you. Thank you." And then she smiles again before she kisses him, her hand rising to the back of his neck to hold him there, steady and sure. His arm tightens reflexively around her and he savors this moment: the feeling of her small body pressed against his and the warmth of the sunlight streaming in and how, together, they might just be able to take on the world.
When the finally break apart, Olivia briefly nuzzles her nose against his before moving back just far enough to raise her glass. "To being lucky."
Fitz lifts his own glass to meet hers. "To playing by our own rules."
"Cheers."
They dine on scallops, roast lamb and the best rosemary potatoes Fitz has ever tasted. He tells her all his favorite parts of the morning's Q&A and they debate many of the points again, finding that they share the same opinion on almost everything. Olivia's work is mainly based in the States and his is in South America, but their ethos and their aims are pretty much identical.
"I feel like we should have met before now," she says, sipping her glass of red (her choice this time, and it's impeccable). "We both live in New York and we move in all the same circles. Did you go to Seattle last fall?"
"The Global Fund? No, I was away in Colombia. I was at the MADRE event in Chicago though - were you there?"
"No, it was my cousin's wedding."
They continue like this for a while, trying to find places in which their lives might have overlapped and coming up with nothing. It's strangely disappointing, and that makes them laugh.
"It's not like it really matters," Olivia shrugs. "If we'd met sooner, you would've been happily married."
Fitz shakes his head. "I don't think I've ever been happily married. I would have just been in denial still. This weekend, the timing, it feels like… fate."
"Like serendipity."
They smile at one another. "Good word, Livvie," he says approvingly, reaching for her hand across the table. She glances down, linking their fingers together and then noticing the time on his watch.
"Are you going to go back to the conference?" Fitz asks, before she's said anything.
"I don't know." She looks torn. "I would really like to see the three o'clock lecture from Professor Ross."
"Okay."
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not. I want to hang out with you, but I'm not gonna stop you doing whatever you want to do."
Olivia smiles and squeezes his hand. "You should come too. I'm sure there's something left to learn that you don't already know," she teases
"I doubt it," he replies smoothly, making her giggle. "We've still got a while before three. There's something else I want to show you."
"There's more?"
He catches the eye of a passing waiter and requests the check, then turns back to her with a grin. "Of course. There's always more for you, beautiful."
There's everything, he wants to tell her. He will, one day.
I am going to give you everything.
The viewing gallery is spectacular. He'd thought the London skyline was impressive from the restaurant, but from the seventy second floor it's just magnificent - even more so when he's standing behind his lovely date, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
"This is amazing," she keeps saying, her face almost pressed up against the glass like an awestruck child. It's so endearing. Fitz wants to spend every weekend like this, with her: being tourists in different cities; discovering the world together.
"You know, I've never been to the top of the Empire State Building," he admits.
"Oh my god, Fitz!" She turns in his embrace, looking at him with obvious shock. "How long have you lived in New York?"
"I don't want to say…" She waits patiently, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "Okay," he sighs. "Probably about fifteen years in total, with a break in the middle when we went back to LA."
"Wow. Well then, that's what we're doing when we get home."
It's the first time either of them has acknowledged the future in real terms, outside of their little London bubble, and his heart sings. "Does that mean I get a second date?"
Olivia laughs and he can't help but admire the exquisite architecture of her cheekbones. "I haven't decided if this is the first one yet."
"Any preliminary thoughts?"
She pretends to consider him, her fingers sliding into the curls at the nape of his neck. Her touch makes him want to close his eyes and purr like a kitten. "Not bad, so far."
"Okay," he says sweetly. "I'll take that from such a gorgeous girl."
When he kisses her, she hums against his lips in the most contented way and he lingers as long as possible, holding onto the sound.
"We should probably get going," he sighs after they finally draw apart. "I don't want you to be late for the presentation."
"Us," she corrects as they reluctantly make their way back over to the elevators. "We decided you're coming with me."
He frowns. "Did we?"
"Well, I did," she says cutely.
"Hmm." He pretends to be annoyed but they both know he'll go with her - there's no question.
Back on the ground, Fitz calls for a cab and then takes her into his arms again. He can't let go of her, even here on the sun-drenched sidewalk where there are lots of people milling around.
"What are you doing this week?" he asks, and he's slightly hesitant because there's only one answer he wants to hear. But he knows they have to talk about reality, about what happens when their bubble bursts.
Olivia doesn't look particularly phased by his question. "Well, I have the Time interview tomorrow afternoon at two. And Stephen texted me this morning - apparently I said we'd catch up before I left?"
"You don't remember?"
She shrugs, her eyes twinkling. "I don't remember much about the bar, to be honest. I was too busy being distracted by this insanely hot guy who was putting all his best moves on me."
She is such a flirt - it makes Fitz want to rip off all her clothes and put his mouth on every inch of her heavenly skin. "Oh sweet baby," he says huskily, leaning down close to her ear, "Those weren't even my best moves."
He feels the way her body reacts to all his unspoken promises: her muscles tensing; her breath catching in her throat. She doesn't seem able to speak and that pleases him immensely. "So when are you flying home?" he goes on, continuing their conversation as if he hasn't just ramped up the heat by a thousand degrees.
"Uh… Tuesday afternoon," she murmurs. "But I don't really have anything on until… a fundraiser next Monday."
Fitz kisses her just below her right ear, rubbing his nose against her earlobe. "Stay here with me," he whispers, his hands tightening around her waist, letting her feel the effect she has on him. "Stay until the weekend, Livvie. There are so many things I want to show you. So many things for us to do…"
He can hear how labored her breathing is. He straightens up and gazes at her again, marveling at the desire written all over her face. "Okay," she says softly, her eyes still closed as she tries to find the present. "I'll have to double check with my assistant, but I want to stay."
She finally looks directly at him and it's a look of lust he's already very familiar with. "I want you."
"I want you too."
"I can tell." She subtly moves her pelvis against his and he has to try hard not to groan out loud.
"Don't do that. Not here."
Olivia grins at his discomfort. "Then where?"
"My room, tonight, after we have dinner together. I know you don't put out on first dates, but I'm hoping to get lucky after the second."
She laughs, clearly both aroused and flattered by how insistent he is. "You're so sure this counts as a first date, aren't you?"
"Come on, Liv. I've wined and dined you, showed you the best view in the city. What else do you need?"
"A kiss."
"A kiss? We've already kissed-"
She shakes her head, pouting those irresistible lips of hers. "No, a proper kiss. A butterflies-in-my-stomach, sweep-me-off-my-feet kind of k-"
He doesn't let her finish her sentence... It's the kind of kiss that movies end on.
