A/N: I'm back (finally). I'm so sorry it's been so long - I got married, traveled back to the UK, honeymooned in Bali, had a lot of work stuff going on. But I'm so appreciative of your ongoing support - the reviews and messages you've been leaving have really spurred me on to finish this chapter. I hope after all this time that you enjoy it!
Chapter 13 - Am I Interrupting Something?
It's just past ten o'clock on Saturday when Olivia wanders downstairs to find Fitz in the kitchen, humming along to the radio as he cooks breakfast. She doesn't know what's making her mouth water more: the smell of bacon or the sight of him in a tight white polo shirt and navy shorts, the muscles of his back rippling as he carefully breaks eggs into a pan of hot water for poaching.
"Hi," she says eventually, unable to keep her presence a secret any longer.
She rounds the table, already set for two, and her heart skips a beat when he turns and gives her his most gorgeous smile.
"Good morning, baby." He wipes his hands on a cloth and then draws her into his arms, kissing her lips.
"I haven't brushed my teeth yet," she protests, pulling away.
"I don't care," he says with a grin. How is he, at forty years old, so damn cute?
"Well, I do."
But he's not listening: his gaze is roaming down her body, over the faded Columbia t-shirt she picked out of his drawer which falls to her bare thighs. The blue material has gotten soft with age and it smells just as delicious as he does.
"This is sexy," he comments, his hands tracing the curves of her waist and hips.
"Oh, this old thing?" She tilts her head to the side and smiles coyly at him as he draws her closer, a low sound of appreciation emanating from his throat. Seconds later, she realizes she can smell burning. "Fitz, I think the bacon-"
"Shit." He quickly turns and takes the pan off the stove, examining the meat. "I hope you like it crispy."
"Is there any other way to eat bacon?"
He grins and kisses her forehead. "That's my girl."
He finishes off the eggs while she makes them both toast. There's already a pot of coffee on the table but it looks and smells so strong that she declines in favor of tea.
"Did you go out this morning to buy all this?" Olivia asks as they sit down to eat.
"Yeah, I stopped by the store on my way home from the gym."
She raises her eyebrows. "Impressive. You should have woken me; I could use a work out."
"You were sleeping like the dead," he smiles fondly. "You clearly needed it."
"I think I did. I've been so tired this week, and that bed is so comfortable."
"I know, right? One of the reasons I'm loathe to move out."
"Mm, great eggs," she says, finishing her first mouthful. "I'm so glad you can cook."
"Me too - one of us has to feed us."
"Nah, that's what take out is for." She mirrors Fitz's grin, crinkling her nose. "So, are you gonna look for somewhere else to live soon?"
"I don't know. I suppose I should, but Henry doesn't mind me staying here. In fact, I think he likes having someone to keep an eye on the house. I might just wait until the divorce is settled and we can sell our place," he shrugs. "There's no rush, especially as it might take a while now."
They briefly discussed his meeting with the lawyer over dinner last night and her heart sinks again when she remembers that she might not be able to have him for several months yet. "Can I ask something?"
Fitz smiles as he sips his coffee. "You know you can. Stop asking permission to ask me questions."
"Sorry."
"I forgive you."
She pokes out her tongue at him before sobering. "I was just wondering - do you think she will make it difficult?"
She can't say his wife's name - that's his, and his alone; part of his life she'll never know.
"I don't know. She might." He looks wary, perhaps of saying too much; of inviting The Other Woman to come and sit between them, right here in the kitchen.
"But why? What's in it for her?"
Olivia wonders whether she should be vocalizing these thoughts, inquiring into something that's absolutely none of her business (even if her happiness is already inextricably linked to the outcome). But this is Fitz, so open and honest, and as usual he doesn't seem to mind.
"I have no idea. She can be irrational, unpredictable… Jealous." He looks a little concerned by that last thought but, after a moment, seems to brush it aside. "She sounded fine when we spoke last week. She's not stupid, she knew it was coming. I don't think she'll be a problem. Now," he continues, changing the tone completely. "As soon as we're finished here, I'll drive you home so you can shower and change, and then we'll head out for the day."
She frowns at him. "I really hate when you don't tell me where we're going."
"I know," he smirks, "But I keep on doing it because you're so adorable when you're being petulant."
"But I don't know what to wear, what to bring!"
He considers her. "I'll let you have that information on the way to your apartment." Then he laughs. "Stop pouting at me and eat, Livvie. Otherwise we'll never leave and you'll never find out what I have planned."
Olivia dresses in her clothes from the night before, wishing she'd thought to bring something a lot less conspicuous to travel home in the next day. It's very unlikely she'll be spotted in Fitz's car, but still: being caught dressed like this on a Saturday morning can only mean one thing, and it would be a disaster if her 'walk of shame' was broadcast across the internet. Next time she'll have to have a much more thorough plan. She washes her face, finds a new toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink and cleans her teeth before descending the stairs into the hall, where she catches the end of Fitz's phone conversation.
"Can I take her out today?... Hey, I always treat her well!... Yeah I'll have her back by four buddy, no problem. Thanks, see you."
"Um… What was that about?" she asks, too intrigued to pay much attention to the way his gaze roams blatantly over her body.
"Nothing," he says with a grin. "Ready to go?"
"Fitz!" God, he's so infuriating sometimes. "Who are we taking out?"
"Nobody."
"But-!"
"Olivia." He steps towards her and takes hold of her shoulders, leaning down until his nose is just inches from hers. This close, his eyes are impossibly blue and his scent overwhelms her. "I retract my earlier statement: stop asking questions. Just trust me."
A smile catches the corners of her lips, even as she tries to resist it. "Why?" she asks softly. "What are you gonna do to me?"
The scene changes: suddenly they're pressed up against one another in a crowded whiskey bar in London and he's the stranger who's about to make a promise which will change every single moment of her life to come.
"Everything," Fitz says, his voice suddenly husky as he too revisits that evening: the noise, the people, the enclosing heat; the uncontainable desire, burning wild and fighting to be unleashed; the impending sense of inevitability - of destiny.
Olivia's eyes fall closed and she's there, and the feelings are all real, all over again.
I love you.
She didn't know it then, but she suspected - and her gut is seldom wrong.
She bites on her bottom lip as her body rises into his, as they wrap their arms around one another. She can feel his breathing: heavy in his chest, warm on her skin. Sometimes, he consumes her. There's nothing else in the world: no hallway, no day trip, no divorce. There's no concept of time except the time between kisses, when she'll miss his lips even as she's desperately dragging air into her screaming lungs. There's no place except where he puts his hands, his warm, ravenous mouth.
They turn and climb the stairs without a word; sink down onto the bed in silence, like the oldest of lovers. Fitz kisses and touches her so tenderly it almost makes her cry, her heart beating hard with arousal and emotion. He's everywhere, surrounding her with his body, enclosing her in his embrace as they move together, fast and slow and everything in between. He's overwhelmed too, she can see it in his eyes - overwhelmed by them; by their power. Is there a greater force in the universe right now than the one which is binding them together? Is this what happens when two souls try to climb inside one another? Laws bend and break; the air crackles and threatens to rip apart, atom from atom?
No, she thinks as she gazes into him and they begin to let go, as one. This is just love.
Just love. Miraculous, common. Rare, every-day. Inexplicable. Unquenchable. Forever.
She can barely breathe afterwards, totally overcome. Her body is still on fire, surging with electricity; her mind hazy and slow as she tries to comprehend the enormity of her feelings.
"Did you feel that?" Fitz murmurs, his lips just next to her ear where he's come to rest, half on top of her. She thinks the tears on her cheeks might have leaked onto his and she doesn't even care: just one more piece of herself, shared with him.
"Yes." She turns to face him, her bare, slick skin peeling away from his. She's never seen him look so open, so vulnerable before.
He swallows. "Olivia, I-"
"Don't." She quiets him, her fingerprint on his lips, her heart racing. "Not yet."
It's still too soon. Those words are irretrievable, once said aloud. What kind of pressure would they put on their fledgling relationship? As much as this whirlwind romance has brought out qualities she wasn't sure she still possessed - her sense of fun, of adventure, of recklessness - she's fragile, underneath it all. She's still the twelve-year-old girl who lost her mother one cold, dark November night; who grew up with a father who didn't seem to know how to love her by himself. She's still the young woman who was so desperate to be in love she didn't realize the kind of man she'd chosen to fall for until she was so deep she almost couldn't escape.
Love is dangerous - she's known this for a long time; learnt it far sooner than anyone should. Loving Fitz is most dangerous of all because she can't bear to be broken again, and because she only gets one chance to do it right. He's her soulmate, her One: it's either him or a life alone. And she won't let her past, her failures, ruin this for her. She can't.
So this needs to go slow. She can't deny that she's already fallen in love with him but she can give herself time to let that settle inside of her, to fill all the holes she's been trying to cover over for too many years. It's already happening: she's already started to heal. Fitz's love has been pouring into her ever since their time in London and it's the sweetest balm, like liquid gold which warms her from head to toe. She wonders if he knows that's what it feels like, being with him. She wonders if he realizes that inside his beautiful, human body is a magic which is far beyond the explanations of biology and chemistry.
She will tell him, one day, when she's brave and strong enough. But not today, when it's all too big for her to wrap her head around. Not today, when she's so full of feeling and so empty of words.
Not today, when she's scared.
"I'm going to shower," she says, and her voice seems so discordant in the calmness of the room.
Confusion clouds his expression. "Livvie, don't-"
He reaches for her but she's already gone.
Fitz lies still for a few minutes, staring at the door through which he's just watched her leave. No, leave is the wrong word - she fled, like a frightened animal. And actually, he's not surprised.
What just happened between them was insane, and he seems to be using that word a lot to describe them but it's never been truer. One minute they're joking in the hallway and the next, they're making love like he's never known before, intertwined in ways far beyond the physical. Something takes over them in moments like those: the most powerful combination of lust, love and total surrender. There's nothing but her, and him, and them. They are one, in every possible way.
And it is scary. They're moving at a million miles an hour with barely any time to process what's happening, what they're feeling and what it all means. And she's delicate, he knows that. She's carrying around scars which she hasn't completely dealt with yet; scars which he hopes she will let him help her heal, one day.
He gives her a little while longer and then follows her to the bathroom, cleaning up and disposing of the condom before entering the shower behind her. She turns to him straight away, her expression a mixture of relief and remorse as tears and water droplets race each other down her face. She's the most beautiful mess he's ever seen.
"Hi," he says softly, taking her hands as he steps into the spray.
"Hi," she breathes. And then: "I don't know why I'm crying."
She laughs and sobs at the same time. Fitz folds her into his arms, burying her face in his chest.
"I'm so sorry, baby."
"What for?" she mumbles, her fingers tense on his lower back as she fights against herself.
"For making you cry in the shower."
She looks up at him and manages another laugh - his favorite sound in the world. "This isn't your fault. I'm just…"
"…Overwhelmed."
"Yes."
He holds her gaze for a moment, letting her know he understands, before reaching for his body wash. "Turn around."
"I'll smell like you."
"Consider yourself lucky."
She giggles as he begins to soap up her neck and shoulders. She's tied her hair up in a bun, keeping it out of the water and it's a shame, because he really does love her curls.
"We're going too fast," Fitz states, working his hands over the muscles of her upper back. "I don't know how to slow us down, but I'm going to try. I can't see you upset, Livvie. It kills me."
"I'm sorry." She tries to turn and face him again but he won't let her.
"Don't be sorry, that's ridiculous. You feel what you feel. And you feel scared right now, and quite right too. I'm scared as well." He hopes hearing that will make her feel a little bit better. "Fear isn't a weakness. Fear of failure is what makes us succeed."
She's silent for a while except for the occasional moan when he massages away any knots he comes across. "We only have once chance at this," she says eventually, her voice small but determined. "We have to succeed."
"I know."
"You mean everything to me," she admits quietly, and at this he does let her spin around towards him. She's smiling, her dark eyes no longer wet but shining with affection, with hope. He would do anything to protect her - this fragile, perfect soul.
He draws her against him and kisses her, soft and sweet. Their mouths linger together for a long time, sharing secrets and all the things they can't say aloud.
"We have time," he tells her at length, and it's a promise. "Time to just be, together. Time to make sense of our feelings. Time to talk, whenever you want to. Just let me know when you're ready and I'll be there. Okay?"
She looks like she can finally breathe easily again. "Okay. Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me." He smiles, touching her nose with his. "Now, do you still want to go out? I can drop you at home if you'd rather be alone, or we could do something else?"
"No, I'd like to go. This can be our… what number date is this?"
He chuckles as he begins to wash himself. "I don't know. But good idea - let's call it a date. No strings attached."
"Fitz, there are strings," she admonishes, smiling. "Let's not deny that. I don't want to erase these last two weeks - far from it."
It's so good to hear her say that out loud. "Okay."
"So, who are we taking out?"
She almost, almost, catches him."My- No. I'm not telling you."
"I won't go if you don't."
He blinks, quickly realizing that she's serious as she frowns at him with her arms crossed over her chest - a picture of stubbornness. "Fine," he sighs. "My friend has a pet ferret and we're taking her for a walk."
The expression which takes over her features - a mixture of surprise, incredulity and suspicion - is worth the lie. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"
"Why ever not?" he teases, feigning offence. "It's the truth."
"No it isn't."
"So you're calling me a liar?"
"I think I am."
They grin at one another, challenging. He steps towards her, out of the cascade of water, backing her into the wall. "What are you doing?" she asks apprehensively, eyeing him up and down. But before she can even think about defending herself he's tickling her, his fingers dancing over her waist, making her scream and fight him as he forces uncontrollable laughter out of her.
"Stop! Please, Fitz!"
He's much stronger than she is, easily holding her slippery body in place. "Take it back."
"No!"
His hands move faster and he can't deny that having her writhing against him like this, naked and wet, is very arousing.
"Okay," she concedes, breathless, seconds later. "I take it back! Please stop!"
He ceases immediately, supporting her as she recovers. "How did you know I'm ticklish?" she pants.
"I didn't," he smirks. "But I do now."
He turns and exits the shower, taking a cloud of steam with him. "You're still a liar," she calls.
"And you're still coming with me, because you're desperate to know what we're doing."
Silence.
He writes 'I win' in the condensation on the mirror as he passes, beside a smiley face.
A short while later, Fitz pulls up around the corner from her building and Olivia manages to make it inside without seeing another soul. It's a lovely sunny day and she quickly changes into a white summer dress and navy blue blazer. She keeps her hair in its bun - it's frizzy from the heat of the shower and there's no time for her to do anything else with it this morning. She's rummaging in her bathroom cabinet for a new can of deodorant when she finds a box of Micronor, the contraceptive pill she used to take - and there's more than a strip inside. She checks the label and it's still in date. There must be enough here for around five weeks, which will mean she doesn't have to rush to see her doctor so soon...
She climbs back into Henry's car shortly afterwards (as Fitz's is full of his belongings), smiling to herself. In forty-eight hours she's going to surprise her man with the fact that, from then on, they can have sex without the inconvenience of condoms. She knows he can sense she's pleased about something because every so often he looks over at her, a slight frown on his handsome face.
"Eyes on the road, Grant," she teases each time, squeezing his thigh.
It's almost one o'clock when they reach Long Island and the sun is high in the vast expanse of blue sky above them. Fitz pulls into the parking lot of an impressively picturesque yacht club and she finally understands just who it is they're taking out today.
"She's a boat."
He grins at her. "She is."
"Your boat?"
"Kind of. You'll see, come on."
It's warm outside and Fitz leads her on a stroll around the busy marina, saying hi to several people as they walk past. They don't hold hands: it might be a date to them, but to everyone else around they're just here as friends. They pass some truly enormous, ultra-luxurious yachts; of course Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III belongs to one of the most exclusive clubs in the state.
He stops beside a medium-sized yacht, running his fingers over the paintwork which reads The Georgiana. "This… is my baby."
Olivia feels her mouth fall open. She tries to take it all in: the shimmering white hull, the large cabin, the huge mast which disappears directly into the sun. "Wow."
It's all she can say.
"Want to come aboard?"
"Yes."
He smiles, clearly happy that he's managed to render her speechless, and she follows him onto the polished deck. "Doesn't she get wet when it rains?" she asks, the first thing that pops into her head.
"She's usually covered up but she was taken out this morning. I rent her out," he explains. "I can't sail as often as I'd like to and it's a shame to leave her sitting here."
Fitz unlocks the cabin door with a set of keys from his pocket and leads her inside. Down a couple of steps is a kitchen-come-living area with doors leading off the far end. "There are three bedrooms and she can sleep eight if the sofa is converted."
Olivia wanders around, drawing her fingertips over the marble kitchen worktops, the exquisite furnishings. "This is beautiful."
"Thank you." His deep voice is right behind her and she turns into his waiting embrace. He leans down and kisses her tenderly, taking his time. She doesn't think she'll ever get enough of the sweet, masculine way he tastes. "I hate not being able to do that in public," he says when they finally break apart.
"Me too."
They share a wistful smile before Fitz speaks again. "Shall we get out on the water?"
Even though she's never sailed before, Olivia has no idea how he plans to take this yacht out by himself. Her thoughts clearly show on her face because he clarifies: "We're not sailing her. Not today. She needs a crew of at least four and the wind conditions aren't ideal right now."
"Oh. So…?"
"We're taking another boat. I'll show you."
Fitz locks the cabin door behind him and they climb back onto the marina boardwalk. "Who is Georgiana?" she asks as they pass the bow, where the dark blue letters glint in the sun.
"She was my grandfather's mother; my great-grandmother. This was his yacht. He left it to me when he died six years ago."
"I'm so sorry." She really wants to take his hand and squeeze it but manages to resist. "Was he your mom's father?"
"No, my dad's."
"Oh. He didn't leave it to your dad, then?"
Fitz smiles. "No. My grandpa taught me to sail when I was a child. My father learned when he was young, too, but he never came out with us. When I was growing up, he was always more interested in… How can I put this? Screwing whores."
Olivia feels the shock of his words run right through her. "What?"
He shrugs, still smiling although there's definitely sadness in his eyes now. "It's true. He always had a mistress. It destroyed my mother."
"Fitz, I-"
"It's okay. You don't need to say anything." Good, because she has no idea what to say. "It is what it is. One of the many reasons my grandfather left everything to me, and not to his only son. His house and several other properties, his shares and investments… He was a very successful man."
"It runs in the family, then."
Her comment flatters him, she can tell. "Maybe. The main thing is, I think it's all safe in the divorce. His will is very specific about that. He never did warm to Mellie…" He trails off. Olivia tries to ignore the way the mention of his wife makes her feel.
"Georgiana is a beautiful name," she says, changing the subject.
"It is, isn't it? She was French. So I guess that makes me…" She can see him trying to do the calculation.
"One eighth French," she offers.
"So smart, Livvie," he grins. "Math has never been my strong point."
They've walked across to the other side of the marina and he stops beside a sleek-looking powerboat. Together they unfasten and remove the cover, storing it beneath the white leather sofa which curves around the stern end of the deck. Everything on board looks pristine; brand new.
"Is this yours as well?" she asks, following him into the cabin and trying to keep the awestruck tone out of her voice. She knew he had money but she never expected him to own two luxury boats.
Fitz gestures for her to sit in the captain's chair. "I part-own her, with three friends. We bought her last summer."
"So you were speaking to one of them on the phone this morning?"
"Yeah, that was Jon. Cyrus doesn't own a license so he never comes out by himself and Kim is on vacation. Jon's hosting a small get-together onboard tonight so we just need to have her back by four."
"And me, so I can get ready for this evening."
"And you, so you can become the belle of the ball. Not that that requires much work."
She looks up at him and smiles, crinkling her nose. "You say the sweetest things, Fitzy. But it's an awards ceremony, not a ball."
"Same difference. If there's a red carpet, loads of famous faces and live TV coverage, it's a big deal."
Olivia shrugs. She used to get nervous in the build up to such events but now she just enjoys them, having learned exactly how to pose, where to smile and who to give interviews to. She's particularly excited for tonight because it's a celebration of women of color in business and industry, several of whom she's met and become good friends with.
"I wish I could take you," she says, and she knows Fitz has been thinking the exact same thing.
"So do I. But we both know I wouldn't be able to control myself."
"Today is good practice for you, then."
He smirks as he spins her chair around until she's fully facing him, resting his hands on the dash either side of her. Now she's his captive, trapped by his body and his dark blue gaze. "Except down here," he murmurs, "where no one can see us…"
His kisses are slow, thorough; like he's savoring her. He holds her prisoner for several minutes and she decides that being ravished on boats is definitely one of her new favorite activities.
"You are delicious," he says eventually, his lips pink and moist from her tongue.
Olivia lets her fingertips continue to wander, exploring the firm muscles of his abs, his lower back, his ass. He is so sexy: every part of her just aches for him, all the time.
"Livvie, stop." He takes her hands as they cross the front of his shorts. "You're naughty."
"You said that last night," she sighs, linking their fingers together. "I preferred the way that ended."
"You haven't seen how this is going to end yet," he counters. "Have you ever driven a powerboat at full speed before?"
"No. Are you about to tell me it's better than sex?"
"Hmm… It's a close call."
She laughs as she stands, offering him her seat. "Let's go then. I'm ready to be impressed, Captain."
Fitz opens a panel above their heads and takes out a replica Navy hat, putting it on over his curls. He flashes his most charming smile and offers a salute: "Yes ma'am."
"You were… incredible."
Olivia grins at him, looking so young and beautiful. "I know."
They're sitting on the sunny balcony of the club's restaurant, waiting for their late lunch to arrive and sipping peach iced tea. After teaching her the basics of steering and acceleration, Fitz let her stand between his legs and take control of the boat: something she took to like a fish to water. She was fearless, speeding past other vessels, unafraid of the waves which broke further offshore. At one point he suggested they stop to enjoy the sunshine on the deck but she was having too much fun - and he wasn't going to argue when he got to hold her in his arms, to share her joy.
"You're a natural. You earned that hat." He has the cutest photo of her on his phone, smiling up at him from beneath the dark brim of the captain's hat.
"I loved it. Can we come again soon?"
"Anytime you like, gorgeous girl."
He suspects the way he's smiling at her is unashamedly and obviously flirtatious but he can't help himself. She just brings it out of him, even in places where it's forbidden.
"Stop looking at me like that," she murmurs, blushing and looking around to see if any of the other diners are watching them - which they're not.
"Livvie, it's fine. No one here is interested in us. They're all far too busy worrying about the stock market and discussing the latest vintage to come out of their vineyards."
He casts his gaze over the people around them and knows he's right. He would be very surprised if even one of them felt inclined to take and share a picture of him and Olivia on social media.
"You do realize, by virtue of your membership here, that you're one of them - right?" She seems reassured and he laughs.
"I know."
"So where's your vineyard? I'm only interested if there's wine."
"Well, my father does actually-"
"No!" She stops him, her hand held up in the air, an incredulous expression on her face. "You are not about to tell me your father owns a vineyard… Are you?"
Fitz can't help but smirk. "No."
"Oh, thank-"
"He part-owns one."
Her eyes widen spectacularly. "This is crazy! Your family is insane, Fitz! Property, yachts, vineyards…"
He shrugs slightly, longing to reach out and hold her hand across the table. The Grants have been a rich, successful family for generations; he grew up eating from a silver spoon. But they have always been a family who gives back, from his beloved grandfather whose estate still provides several University of California bursaries for disadvantaged students, to his father whose charitable events and personal contributions help thousands of people every year. Fitz knows his dad - certainly the black sheep of the family - would never have become so generous if it weren't for his mother, who didn't have a selfish bone in her body. Why she stayed with him when she found out about his infidelities is something Fitz has never understood.
"It's old money, Liv, inherited over hundreds of years. Most of it is invested, safe. I-"
Olivia cuts him off. "It's okay, you don't have to justify yourself to me. I was just surprised, that's all. You don't act like you come from such privilege."
It's not the first time he's heard that, and he's glad. "I would much rather have had a happy, stable family than an enormous house and endless vacations. There was a period when I resented my name and everything that came with it; when I rebelled and fled to London, to Colombia. But I've learned that it's my choices which make me who I am. I can't change my background but I can use what I have to help those who aren't so fortunate."
Those words are engrained into him now, his motto in everything he does. They sit in his core, alongside his only other true desire in life: to love someone wholly, and to have a family of his own. If Olivia isn't the missing piece of him, he'll be half-empty until the day he dies.
"You're amazing," she tells him now, looking at him like she can see all the way inside him; like she knows exactly what's in his heart. "I've never met anyone like you before, Fitz. I'm in awe of you."
She holds his gaze, strong and unembarrassed. How can she possibly be in awe of him? He wants to kneel down and worship her.
"I love how you don't even realize," he says softly, and his voice catches slightly in his throat.
"Realize what?"
"That I would give it all up for you… in a heartbeat."
A smile begins to form on her lips, her eyes shining with the hint of tears. "Even The Georgiana?"
"Even the other woman in my life, yes."
Olivia laughs and turns her head to gaze out over the water. Fitz watches her, wondering what she's thinking as the sounds of sea birds and motorboats swirl around them on the breeze. She has no idea how beautiful she is.
After several long moments of reflection, she finally looks back at him. "What do you think our lives would be like right now, if things were different? If you weren't married, if I wasn't trying to protect my reputation, if my ex-boyfriend hadn't destroyed every ounce of self-worth I'd ever possessed."
He's horrified at her last words. "Is that the problem - you don't feel worthy of me?"
She shrugs, briefly closing her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it right now."
"I think we should."
"No. Please, Fitz. I'm not ready. You said you'd wait for me to be ready." There's pain etched across her face and he can't bear it.
"Okay," he sighs. He's desperate to know what exactly Edison Davis did so he can fix every lasting piece of damage that man inflicted upon her, but only this morning he promised to let her come to him in her own time. "Well… I'd probably have proposed to you already."
"Really?"
"I think so."
They share a smile and it's so reassuring to see that she's not freaked out; that she is able to envision them having a future together.
"It would be so simple, wouldn't it?" she asks, letting her hand reach for his over the table until the tips of their fingers are touching.
"It is simple, Livvie. It's just you and me: two people; two halves of the same whole. You make me happier than I've ever been before in my life, and everything beyond that is secondary."
Just then a waitress appears with their lunch, interrupting their conversation but not their eye contact. "Thank you," Olivia says, not even glancing down at her food. "I feel the same way," she admits as soon as they're alone again. "And that scares me, because I swore I'd never let another man become the center of my world. But here you are, dragging me into your orbit… and here I am, letting you."
Fitz wants to stand up and lift her into his arms; to hold her so tightly she won't ever feel afraid again. "Do you want to know what I think?"
"Yes."
"I think you need to let go. You can't control everything, especially not the way you feel, so stop fighting it. Stop worrying about what might happen and just enjoy today."
"I am enjoying today," she says with a small smile, and he can tell she feels chastised but that she does agree with his assessment. "You're pretty great at organizing dates, mister."
He grins at her as he raises his glass. "Thank you. Now, we're going to drink to us, and to happiness, and to you trying your hardest to embrace it. Okay?"
She sits forward to accept his toast. "To happiness," she echoes. And then, more quietly: "To you."
After Fitz drops her home later that afternoon, Olivia doesn't see him again until the following day. She spends three hours getting ready for the awards ceremony with her hair and makeup team, chatting away but unable to stop her mind from drifting to what he said earlier about control - and marveling at how right he was. She's been a meticulous planner for as long as she can remember: everything from her homework schedule to proportioning her savings for the future. She thinks it stemmed from the aftermath of her mother's death, when routine was the only thing that allowed her to get out of bed each morning, and it worked for her; enabled her to succeed in ways even she hadn't dared to imagine.
She even planned how she would fall in love, in those rare moments when she wasn't busy rehearsing speeches or trying to persuade yet another corporation to support her cause. It would be slow, steady, sure. He would be a friend first, probably one of her best friends, and they would grow so close together that one day they just merged.
She should have known it wasn't realistic when she fell for Edison, this tall, handsome politics graduate with big ideas and an even bigger ego. She wasn't friends with him before they became a couple; in fact, looking back, she wonders if they were ever friends. He certainly wasn't someone who made her laugh a lot, or who was capable of joking around. But he made her feel loved, and safe, and he always seemed to say exactly the right thing whenever she was having doubts about the two of them. He was a charmer but, unlike Fitz, he used it to manipulate everyone around him, including her.
When they broke up - after he uttered those fateful words which destroyed everything she thought she'd known for the past two years - he took most of her with him: her heart, her self-confidence, her ability to trust her own judgement. And she had no other survival mechanism but routine, control. She could plan every minute of every day, making herself so busy she barely had time to fall apart. Maybe if she'd allowed herself chance to grieve she would have gotten over him sooner; maybe she wouldn't find it so hard to surrender herself to Fitz.
And Fitz… They way she's fallen for him is the exact opposite of slow and steady. She has no control, no matter how hard she tries to make sense of what's happening. She shouldn't love him already, but she does; her happiness shouldn't be so dependent on him, but it is. None of it fits with her plan… but, maybe, that doesn't matter. As long as she's happy, then so what? It's an idea she's going to have to get used to, but she's very willing to try. She would love to be able to stop worrying about what might happen: with his divorce, with her friends' reactions to their relationship, with the media's perception of them. She would love to stop fighting against herself and finally relax.
She has a great time at the awards ceremony that evening, catching up with friends she hasn't seen for ages. Fitz texts her halfway through, telling her he's seen photos of her online already and she looks stunning. It leaves her longing for him to be there, effortlessly handsome in a tux as he slips his hand around her waist and holds her against him, claiming her as his. She wonders which events she has coming up that she could potentially get him an invite to, if only so they can spend time with one another, pretending to be nothing more than acquaintances. When they're officially together, she knows they won't be able to keep their hands off each other at parties - and she also knows she won't care what people think at that point.
She gets to bed late and wakes ten hours later, alone in her bed. There are several missed calls from Fitz on her phone, and one from Abby. She speaks to him first.
"Hi sleeping beauty. How are you? I was beginning to worry."
"I'm fine, don't be silly. I've literally just woken up. You okay?"
"Not really."
"Why?" She sits up, hoping it's nothing serious.
"Because I'm here, and not in your bed."
Olivia rolls her eyes, trying not to laugh. "You are so cheesy."
"I'm serious! Can I come over?"
He sounds like he's been waiting for her to wake up all morning - how can she refuse? "I think that might be okay."
She can tell he's grinning. "I was hoping you'd say that."
An hour later and Olivia is lying on her couch with a very warm, very sexy man on top of her. His wandering hands are everywhere as he kisses and nibbles on her neck and it's becoming harder to ignore the ache which is building deep in her core.
"Fitz," she warns breathlessly, "I'm trying to watch the movie."
"No you're not."
His low voice and his breath against her ear makes her giggle.
"I am!"
She tries to push him off of her but he's too heavy. Instead he leans on his forearms so he's looking down at her, his blue eyes both playful and stormy with arousal. They gaze at one another for a moment, breathing hard, silly smiles on their faces. She's been resisting him for the last half hour, when the film started and it became quite clear that the only reason he agreed to her choice of chick flick was because he never had any intention of actually watching it. And she's not that interested either but teasing him is a lot of fun.
"You're actually serious?" he asks, his expression a mixture of amusement and frustration.
"Mm hmm."
With a lot of grumbling, Fitz briefly kisses her lips and moves off of her. He settles back down into the corner of the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and Olivia curls into his side, slipping her fingers beneath his waistband and resting her hand there, very low on his abdomen. She's planning on a long, slow afternoon of playing with him; there's no rush, and she's sure that when they eventually give in, the resulting sex will be nothing short of explosive.
Whether or not he's aware of her plan, Fitz at least tries to refocus his attention on the screen, but it's less than ten seconds before he asks: "So, what the hell is happening?"
"I don't know," Olivia whispers back, amused. "Someone kept distracting me. Shall we start from the beginning again?"
"God no. Let's just make it up. I think that guy is an alien in disguise," he states, pointing to Ryan Gosling.
She can't help but laugh. "And Emma Stone is really a man in drag, right?"
"Hey, you're good at this Livvie."
They continue for a while, concocting a fantastically absurd plot, until Fitz declares theirs much better than the original and suggests they actually make it into a film. "You can be my date to the Oscars when we we're nominated for Best Picture," he suggests.
"Oh no, mister." She sits up so she's facing him. "You can be my date. And I think you mean when we win Best Picture."
"Of course. Sorry boss."
He's so handsome, so lovable when he grins at her, that she can't help but lean into him, nuzzling her nose against his.
"Hi beautiful," he says softly, stroking her cheek with his fingertips.
"Hi."
Olivia straddles his lap and starts to run her fingers through his hair, until his eyes fall closed and he's making contented noises from deep in his throat. Their lightheartedness has faded away but in its place is tenderness, affection, desire. His hands are gently massaging her thighs and every so often she leans down to kiss him, lightly brushing her lips over his, trailing them along his jaw and around his ear. She can feel him growing hard again but he lets her play with him for a long time, basking in her touch.
"Baby," he sighs eventually, their hips now rocking slowly together. His eyes flutter open and she smiles at his dazed expression.
"Hi baby. Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Mm hmm." He kisses her throat, moving leisurely down her chest, his light stubble grazing her skin in the most arousing way. When he slides his hands beneath her tank top, pushing it upwards, she lets him, her earlier plans long forgotten.
Just as he's revealed her bra and his mouth is wandering along the lacy border, there's a knock at her door. It's so sudden that they both jump, staring at each other in surprise. She's half-tempted to ignore it but, five seconds later, it sounds again.
"Ugh," she sighs, kissing him before she extricates herself from his embrace, rearranging her clothes. "I wonder who that is."
"Whoever they are, they have exceptionally bad timing."
Olivia lets her gaze roam over him before she leaves the room. He's unmistakably turned on and totally delicious, from his messed up curls and kiss-stained lips to his perfectly defined abs peeking out where his t-shirt has ridden up and the enormous erection tenting his pants. She cannot believe she's being denied him right now.
She rushes to the front door and looks through the peephole, seeing that it's Abby on the other side. "Liv? Are you there?"
"Just give me a minute!"
She runs back into the living room. "It's Abby."
"Fuck." Fitz is already standing but he blinks, clearly expecting Olivia to have chased away their unwanted visitor.
"It'll be fine," she says, more to herself than him. "She's great. Nosy, but great. Do you mind meeting her now?"
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
Olivia can't help but laugh at the situation. "No, you don't. Now go and sort yourself out," she chides, pushing him in the direction of the bathroom. She eyes the rest of the room after he's gone, hurriedly rearranging the sofa as best she can before smoothing down her hair in the hallway mirror and finally opening the door.
"Hey," she breathes, welcoming her friend inside. She's trying to act completely normally but inside she's panicking: this was not the way she'd imagined the two of them meeting; it's definitely out of her control.
"Hey." Abby looks very suspicious as she gives her a hug. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, I was just tidying up. How are you?"
"I'm fine." But she's still frowning. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No." At that moment, Fitz appears and Olivia is forced to amend her statement as Abby's mouth falls open. "Well… kind of."
"Hi. You must be Abby," he says in his impossibly smooth baritone, moving forward to kiss her cheek. Her wide eyes meet Liv's over his shoulder and she mouths: "Oh my god!"
"I'm Fitz," he continues as if this meeting is nothing out of the ordinary, but Olivia can see he's both entertained and a little taken aback by Abby's reaction to him. "Shall I go and make us some tea?"
"Yes please," Olivia smiles, briefly touching his waist before he disappears, thinking little of the gesture until she catches her friend staring.
"Oh my god, Liv!" Abby whispers exaggeratedly. "Are you fucking serious? That's your new guy?"
"Yeah." Olivia can't stop herself from beaming. So what if this was unplanned? Abby is her best friend; she wants the two of them to get to know one another.
"He's fucking hot."
"I know."
"Wow." She looks totally shocked. "I mean, you said Greek god but... fuck. And he is not forty."
"He is."
"I don't believe you. Have you checked the birth date on his passport?"
Olivia laughs. "Stop being ridiculous. Come on."
They head into the living room, both staring at Fitz's back as he reaches up into one of the kitchen cupboards.
"What exactly did I interrupt?" Abby asks, picking up a stray cushion from behind the arm of the couch and holding it out with a smirk.
"Nothing much."
"Hmm." She glances at the TV screen where the film is paused. "If I asked you to tell me what's going on in this movie, would you be able to?"
Olivia feels her cheeks heating as they sit down. "No," she admits with a grin.
"Livvie," Fitz calls before Abby can reply, although she looks suitably impressed. "Do you have any more teabags?"
"Livvie?" Abby murmurs, eyebrows raised to the sky. "Since when has anyone called you Livvie?"
Olivia just smiles as she gets up again to help Fitz. Her friend's awestruck reaction to him, to their casual domesticity, has made her feel both pleased and proud. He is amazing, and she wants the whole world to know it.
"I'll have a drink and then leave you two alone," Fitz says quietly as soon as she's near.
"You don't have to go."
"I want to," he grins. "I have the feeling I'm about to be dissected. And I'm sure Abby has a million questions she doesn't want to ask in front of me."
"Oh, you'd be surprised. She has no filter, and no fear."
"Sounds dangerous."
"Very."
They laugh softly and Fitz kisses her, his hand rising to the small of her back. "Now, the tea?"
"Oh, right." She turns to the cupboards on her left and, out of the corner of her eye, notices Abby watching them with fascination. The last time she saw Olivia with a man, it was Edison and their behavior couldn't be any further from her and Fitz's. "Here you go."
She hands the packet to him before returning to her friend, who has moved to sit in one of the armchairs. "I thought maybe you'd been having sex on the sofa," she says by way of explanation.
"We weren't." Abby just stares at her in that skeptical way which always forces Olivia to confess to all her sins. "Okay, we almost were - before we were rudely interrupted."
"Well, you never called me back so I thought I'd come and surprise you. Don't worry, I won't do so again."
"I'm sorry."
Abby's expression softens. "Oh Liv, don't be. Look at you - I haven't seen you smile like this for years. I'm so happy for you."
Olivia's face is starting to hurt, she's smiling so much. "Me too."
"Here we go, ladies."
Fitz arrives with a tea tray bearing a pot, three mugs, milk and sugar. "How are you, Abby?" he inquires, seating himself beside Olivia with about a foot of space between them. "It's nice to meet you finally."
"You too," she replies, gazing at him with undisguised curiosity. "I'm good thank you. Still a little hungover from last night actually, but I'm getting there."
"Heavy night?"
"Yeah. Tequila."
"Ouch."
Olivia watches them interact, noticing the instant warmth between them. "Who were you out with?" she asks
"Some of the girls from the office. You know Grace, Megan, Diana? And then we went on to Lavo and met up with a bunch of guys from Tremlett Hughes. One of them was really cute."
She can tell from Abby's tone that there's more to this story. "And?"
Abby looks briefly at Fitz, obviously deciding she can speak about this kind of thing in front of him. "We got shitfaced on shots and ended up having sex in his shower. Good shower sex too, from what I can remember."
"There's bad shower sex?" Fitz looks confused and adorable at the same time.
"Oh yeah. You know, when you're not quite the right height for each other and it's all too slippery, so you end up on your knees and then it starts to hurt and you wish you'd just never bothered?"
He glances at Olivia who can't help but laugh at how frank her best friend is. "Way to break the ice, Abs."
"What? He asked."
"I did," Fitz admits, grinning despite himself. "I'll be sure not to in future."
He pours the tea and passes it out. Abby's standard order of three sugars makes him raise his eyebrows. "I thought I had a sweet tooth," he comments, and maybe it's because of the way his blue eyes meet hers and the foreplay they'd been enjoying just ten minutes earlier, but Olivia's mind jumps straight to the image of him lying between her legs, feasting on her. It takes her a while to calm herself down and return to the present, by which time the conversation has moved on to their boating trip the previous day.
"It was so much fun," she confirms, squeezing Fitz's thigh. "I can't wait to go again."
"I'll take you anytime. Both of you."
"Awesome," Abby says enthusiastically. "I've always imagined sunning myself on a boat, sipping Champagne."
"Well, if we have any more hot days this year we can go out, and I'll bring the bubbles."
"I like him," she says loudly to Olivia, making him laugh. "You can keep him."
"Thanks. I think I will."
They gaze at one another, smiling widely, and she feels his hand cover hers. She's not sure how much time has passed when Abby clears her throat - it could be a second or a minute.
"Are you sure you two haven't known each other longer?"
Olivia feels slightly embarrassed that she's been caught looking dreamily into his eyes and tears her gaze away. She takes a sip of her tea, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. "It feels like we have," she murmurs. She knows Abby hasn't forgotten what she told her about Fitz being her soulmate.
"It does," Fitz confirms, and he doesn't look ashamed at all. In fact, he's still staring at her like she's the most precious thing in the world. "I feel like I've known her my whole life."
"Aw, you guys." Abby, often referred to by her colleagues - and even her friends - as the Ice Queen, actually looks emotional. Her eyes seek out Olivia's, searching for confirmation that he really is this perfect, which she is powerless to deny. Can Abby tell how desperately in love with him she is already? It seems impossible that she can't, given how Olivia can feel her affection for him radiating across the space between them like a heatwave.
Fitz finally seems to shake himself out of his reverie. "So," he says, smiling at Oliva before turning to Abby. "Livvie tells me you're a lawyer. What area do you practice in?"
They chat for a further twenty minutes about their careers before Fitz politely states that he's going to leave the two of them alone. "Are you sure?" Abby says. "You don't have to go on my account."
"It's okay, I need to catch up on some work before tomorrow. It was great to meet you."
They all stand and he embraces Abby before letting Olivia walk him to the door. "That went well, didn't it?" he says quietly as she smooths out his t-shirt, running her hands over the muscles beneath.
"Yeah. I haven't seen her warm to anyone as quickly as she has to you." She looks up at him, unwilling to let him leave. "I don't want to let you go."
"You have to."
"I don't."
He laughs as she wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly. "I could come back this evening and sleep over? I'll bring pizza."
"You'd better."
He lifts her chin and kisses her. "See you later then, sweet baby." He's almost out the door when he adds: "By the way, when she's firing questions at you - make sure you emphasize just how fantastic I am in bed."
She tries to playfully hit him but he's already out of reach. When she returns to the living room, with the familiar feeling of emptiness she gets every time they say goodbye, Abby is sat up straight and ready for her.
"Oh my god, Olivia Carolyn Pope! That man is so in love with you! There was so much sexual tension in this room I almost had to walk out at one point."
Olivia doesn't have anything to say to that so she just takes a seat, trying to hide her very contented smile.
"Does he look at you like that all the time? How do you not jump on him and kiss his handsome face off?"
"He does. And I do, sometimes."
Abby seems to be struggling to comprehend the situation. "I've never seen you like this before."
"I've never felt like this before."
There's a pause, before her friend can no longer contain herself: "Tell me about the sex."
She rolls her eyes, trying to delay the inevitable. "What about it?"
"Liv. Seriously? Is it amazing?"
"Yes."
"… And?"
"Ugh, Abigail! What do you want me to say? We can't get enough of each other. I want him all the time. Just being near him makes everything inside of me melt."
"When did you first sleep together?"
"The night we met." She lets herself revisit that evening for the second time in two days. "I knew there was something between us the moment I looked into his eyes. It wasn't a spark so much as a fire. You know when you can't make conversation with someone - everything you say is just pure flirtation? It was like that. We connected on such a deep level, like we'd known each other forever. We tried to stay away from each other at the conference dinner - I already knew he was married - but there was a force which kept drawing us together. He almost kissed me at the bar and I knew it was wrong, but I was so disappointed when he didn't."
Abby looks fascinated. "What happened then?"
"We went to Stephen's bar for a drink." She tries to ignore the pain that briefly crosses her friend's face when she mentions his name - there's a lot of history there. "We were squeezed up against each other in the corner and Fitz… he said something to me I'll never forget. He was so sexy and I wanted him so badly I would have taken off my clothes right then and there.
"He took me out onto the roof and he was shaking, fighting to stay in control of himself. He asked me to tell him to stop and I refused. I already knew I could never walk away from him. When he finally gave in and kissed me, the world just disappeared."
The next part of the night is a blur, the memories made when her mind was hazy with desire. "We ended up in my hotel room. He held me against the wall…" Talking about this, remembering the way he smelled and how her body flooded with the sweetest pleasure every time she ground down against his erection, is turning her on. "It was… incredible."
She stops there. She doesn't have the words to describe how Fitz made her feel that night, and she can't let herself get any more carried away.
Abby, for once in her life, doesn't seem able to speak. Olivia wonders whether she's said too much, but it was all honest.
"That sounds… insane," her friend says at last. "I've never experienced anything like that before. Not even close."
"I know. Neither had I, until Fitz."
"Do you think this is it, then? Once he's divorced, you two will get married, have beautiful babies and live happily ever after?"
There's that word again - happy.
And she is. She's so happy when she's with Fitz, or talking about him with her best friend; when she's not worrying or trying to control everything around her.
Actually, happy is quite easy.
"We will," she says, smiling. "This is it."
She's out of breath, panting, sweating; her head spinning. Fitz slowly kisses his way up her sated body, emerging from beneath the covers to gaze down at her with so much love in his eyes.
"Hi," he murmurs.
"Hi," she whispers. And then: "I'm so happy."
And she really, really means it.
