A/N: this is a special chapter. I loved writing it - I know I say that a lot, but it's especially true this time. My heart was beating so hard at the end, just like Fitz's. I hope I've done this justice, and that you enjoy it.

Thank you, as always, for the feedback. It is always welcome, loved and a constant source of inspiration.


Chapter 33: I'm Yours

On December twenty-third, Olivia arrives home from a private yoga class just after midday. Her instructor Francesca, whom she's known a couple of years and considers a friend, was thrilled to hear her pregnancy news and started to teach her how to adapt certain positions and movements around her changing body. Afterwards they went Francesca's apartment for coffee and she talked about her six-month-old nephew Luca, accompanied by hundreds of gorgeous photos. She even suggested Olivia meet her brother and sister-in-law, to 'get some practice' at parenting Luca, which is an offer she's keen to accept in the future.

As she steps out of the elevator onto their floor, looking down at her phone, she walks straight into Fitz.

"Oh, hey."

"Hi." He looks surprised to see her, but a smile quickly forms on his handsome face and he leans down to kiss her. "Sorry. I almost knocked you over."

"In a hurry?"

"Yeah. I'm late for Cyrus."

He'd received a call the previous morning from his second-in-command regarding visa issues for some of their new interns. Olivia had wondered aloud why it couldn't wait until after the holiday; Fitz had shrugged and promised he wouldn't be long.

"Why the suit?" she asks, frowning and pointing at the carrier he's holding along with his briefcase.

"Oh. Just something I need dry-cleaning."

"Two days before Christmas?"

He kisses her again and moves past her, pressing the button to keep the elevator there. "I thought I might wear it to your dad's. Anyway, gotta go. Love you."

"Love you too," she echoes - but she can't quite shake the feeling that something about him is slightly off, and has been since Cyrus's call the day before.

Later, after wrapping all her presents and trying to get organized for the party tomorrow, she realizes she has no idea where he put the table decorations they bought. She calls him, just to ask quickly, knowing he won't mind - but his phone goes straight to voicemail. And an hour later, the same thing happens. She tries his personal office number but no one picks up; she manages to rationalize that by picturing them down the hall at Cyrus's desk instead.

Feeling like she has a lot to get done and not wanting to waste time, she phones James to ask for his fiancé's number. He answers so enthusiastically, with so much positive energy, that she momentarily forgets her growing concern over Fitz's out-of-character absence.

"Olivia Pope! My favorite fashion icon and all-round goddess. How are you?"

"Oh, don't. I'm good thanks. How are you?"

"I'm great. Loving the endless Christmas movies on Freeform and saturating my bloodstream with eggnog. And looking forward to your amazing party tomorrow!"

"Me too. I'm so glad you're coming."

"I think it was always our destiny to be reunited, gorgeous girl."

"I think so too." She can't help but smile. "I was just wondering if you could give me Cyrus's number please? I'm trying to get hold of Fitz and I think his battery must have died."

"I can pass you over to Cy, if you like? He's sitting here beside me."

Olivia's heart sinks right out of her chest, taking all the air in her lungs with it. What?

It's several seconds before she can speak to Cyrus, once he's greeted her. "I thought you were with Fitz?"

"No." She can hear the intrigue in his voice. "I don't think we had any plans, did we?"

"He said you were meeting at work to go over visas or something?"

"First I've heard of it." His tone softens. "I don't know where he is, but I'm sure there's a good explanation."

"Hm. I hope so."

"I know so, Olivia. Don't worry. We'll see you tomorrow, one o'clock?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. See you then."

"Sure. Bye"

She stares into space for several minutes, her mind racing at a hundred miles an hour. What the fuck is going on? He's obviously been lying to her since yesterday, which is threatening to crush her because he knows she values honesty above all else. But at the same time - she trusts him. And every cell in her body is certain he would never do anything to hurt her. So there must be an explanation for his secrecy.

The question is, what is it?

She finally takes a shower; spends a long time washing her hair, going over all the wonderful things about him she loves so much, all the ways he dotes on her. By the time she's dressed again, it's five o'clock and she's feeling a bit better.

Her phone rings: Fitz, the display says.

Thank god.

"Hi. Where are you?"

She can hear city traffic, carolers singing, the wind blowing. "Just finished. I'm going to have a quick drink with Henry. I won't be too long."

"Okay. I-"

"I'll see you later, beautiful. Bye."

"Wait-"

But he's already hung up.

Olivia's fuse, after hours of careful self-control, finally blows.

I know you didn't meet Cyrus today, she texts. What the hell?

And then: Please call me back. I'm confused/worried.

Five minutes later, feeling guilty for accusing him: I love you. {Smiley face blowing a kiss.} {Red heart.}

After half an hour, he still hasn't seen the messages and she forces herself to stop thinking about it. The most logical explanation she's come up with is that he's organizing some kind of surprise for her, because he's done it before and she knows he's a total romantic. She deliberately leaves her phone in the kitchen and settles down on the couch with a bowl of chips, deciding to take a leaf out of James's book and find a festive movie to watch. For the first time since her positive pregnancy test, she wants a drink; imagines a warming glass of red wine while rain lashes the windows and the Christmas tree lights sparkle - but she resists.

"The things I do for you," she says lovingly to her baby, resting her hand on her abdomen as Miracle on 34th Street begins and wishing she could feel a flutter, a kick. "One day soon you'll move for me, won't you? I can't wait for you to say hello, tiny one."

Halfway through the film - which she's spent absentmindedly narrating out loud, sharing all her favorite scenes with her child, hoping they can already hear her voice - her phone rings. She knows who it is before she's even reached the kitchen.

"Livvie, I'm so sorry. I only just checked my phone and saw your messages."

"You should be sorry. What the hell is going on?"

He pauses. In the background are the sounds of a busy bar. "It's a surprise," he says eventually. Reluctantly. "For you. For Christmas."

Of course. She does know him - and her instincts were right. Relief floods through her, finally letting her relax.

Fitz continues speaking, his tone lighter now, teasing: "Not easy to organize when you're being so nosy."

"Not funny," she admonishes. "I was worried. You know I hate it when you lie to me."

"Only white lies. Nothing serious. But I'm still sorry."

He sounds like he's slurring a little and Olivia frowns. "Are you drunk?"

"No. I've just had a couple. Celebrating."

"Celebrating what?"

"Oh, you know. Christmas. Your surprise present."

"Right," she says slowly, drawing out the word. There's still something strange about all this, but she doesn't have the energy left to figure out what it could be. Maybe she's just imagining it after her day of consternation. "You have been so weird today Fitzgerald. Can I have my normal boyfriend back tomorrow please?"

He laughs. "Of course you can. I wasn't trying to be weird. I'm sorry. Again."

"It's okay."

And it is.

"Why don't you come join us?" Fitz suggests. "It's packed here, no one will notice you. And even if they do, who cares?"

As much as she wants to see him, the thought of braving the weather to leave her cozy living room is too much. "I think I'll pass. I might just eat some dinner and get an early night."

"Do you want me to come home?"

His voice is soft, and she knows he would if she asked.

"No, I'm good. Honestly. Have fun with Henry."

"Okay. We might grab something to eat but I won't drink too much, I promise."

"Fitz, I don't mind. Enjoy yourself. It's Christmas."

She can sense his smile; hopes he can sense hers, too. When it comes down to it, her love for him just outweighs everything else. She'd forgive him anything. And she really does want him to spend quality time with one of his oldest friends. With all the stress of the last few weeks - months, even - he deserves it.

"I love you," he says, and she feels it.

"Love you too. See you later."

"Bye, Livvie."

She watches the rest of the film; eats last night's leftover pasta; Facetimes with Stephen, although he's in a rush to set off for his parents' so they don't chat for long. She does get to show off her bump though, and see the stunned look on his face which makes her giggle.

"It's real," she confirms. "I haven't been pretending all this time."

"I know," her friend says genuinely. "It's just… You look radiant, Liv. And so happy. You seem like you're in a really good place right now."

"I am. The best."

"I'm so glad."

She beams at him. "Me too. Merry Christmas, Stevie. Drive safe."

"Merry Christmas sweetheart. And to Fitz and Baby Grant, too."

"I'll pass it on. Do you realize, Baby Grant will be six months old this time next year?"

"Wow." Stephen looks incredulous. "That's mad."

"Isn't it?" she laughs. "It's totally mad."

And it is mad - but it's also everything.


She has no idea what time it is when Fitz finally slips into bed, only that it's pitch dark. He cuddles up behind her, something he doesn't normally do when she's already asleep - but tonight she doesn't mind. Especially not when he's burying his face in her neck and sighing so contentedly as he wraps her up in his arms.

"Missed you," he breathes, his hand sliding beneath her t-shirt.

"Mm," Olivia murmurs in reply, letting him know she's awake. "Missed you too. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah."

His fingers are stroking the soft swell of her abdomen, just below her belly button. He nudges her jaw with his nose, kissing his way to her mouth, hinting for her to turn her face towards him. She obeys without hesitation. There's more fire in his kiss than she was expecting - and something else, too.

"You taste like alcohol," she whispers, but she doesn't stop him as his lips brush hers over and over.

"That's because I drunk a lot of it."

"Oh really?"

"Blame Henry." Now he's rolling her onto her back, moving his thigh across hers; trailing his mouth down her throat, pushing up her shirt, kissing her bare breasts. "God. I really missed you."

She lets him play with her, her spine arching as the most delicious sensations start to float through her. If anyone had ever asked her whether she'd mind being woken in the middle of the night for sex by her semi-intoxicated boyfriend, she'd have adamantly said yes: she would mind, a lot. But with Fitz, and his gorgeous body and the way he adores her and how he can turn her on with just the slightest touch, the lightest kiss - nothing is the same as it used to be. They really are living in a whole new world.

And this one is so much better than anything that came before.

She sighs his name as his fingers slip into her underwear, testing her. She's wet already, a direct result of his care and attention, and when he discovers that he groans.

"Livvie."

"Yes?"

It's so dark she can't see him, but she can sense him right in front of her. Then he moves suddenly, to switch on his bedside lamp. She blinks in the brightness.

"Hi," he says, leaning on one elbow, smiling at her. There's nothing in his handsome face to suggest he's drunk: there's just desire, and omnipresent love.

"Hi," Olivia echoes sweetly. Then she wriggles out of her pajama pants and underwear; sits up to peel away her t-shirt. She loves to watch his gaze darken; loves to tease him by running her fingertips over her curves, showing herself off to him.

"See something you like?" she asks, feeling sultry and powerful.

"Mm." His hips twitch. "I like everything about you. I love everything about you."

He closes the space between them, kissing her urgently, drawing her onto her side and flush against him - and this is where she becomes aware of the alcohol in his system. He's always passionate but now, with all of his inhibitions gone, it's overflowing from him. It makes him a little rougher, in a very sexy way - and a lot more impatient.

Essentially, he's just really, really horny.

And, by the very nature of lust and love, that means she is too.

"I thought about this all evening," Fitz utters between kisses, grinding his erection against her core in some inherent rhythm which she matches instinctively, moaning with every beat. "God, Livvie. I'm always thinking about this."

He breaks away to rip off his t-shirt but she barely gets a glimpse of his perfectly-carved chest and abs before he's pulling her beneath him, licking each of her nipples in turn. And then he's gone again, shifting down the bed; pushing apart her legs and burying his face between them. There's no preamble whatsoever: he's just insatiable, kissing her center as ravenously as he kissed her mouth, tasting and fucking her with his tongue until she's a trembling, heavenly mess. It's some of the hottest foreplay she's ever known - which is saying a lot considering everything they've done together.

"Are you gonna come for me?" he growls, dragging his lips to her bare skin, her abdomen, giving her the briefest moment to breathe. When he bites her inner thigh she cries out, feeling herself become even wetter. "Making you come is my favorite thing in the world."

"Yes," she hisses, already so close. "Please."

"Okay." His hands slide from her chest to her bottom, lifting her off the bed and into his face. "Like this?"

The circles her draws on her, the way he sucks her into his mouth over and over again, how he softly laps at her and then intermittently uses his teeth, jolting her to the next level of arousal, ensures her answer to his question is loud and repeated.

"Yes. Yes!"

He gets his wish, his favorite thing. And she gets hers, shattering into a thousand pieces.

As she slowly begins to recover from one of the best orgasms of her life, Olivia is vaguely aware of him making his way up her body again, kissing her shaking muscles, the rapid rise and fall of her ribcage, the column of her throat. He holds her jaw with strong fingers, turning her face to his.

"Baby?"

She can't help but smile, her eyelids lazily fluttering open. "Mm?"

The intensity of his blue gaze surprises her, as does the speed of his heart beating against her chest. "I'm yours," he says seriously, his voice deep with arousal - and emotion.

Olivia covers his hand with hers; tries to work out, through the haze in her brain, why he's suddenly so solemn. She knows he's hers. He's been hers, in every way that matters, since the day they met. What's so different about tonight?

She wonders if it's just the whiskey he's consumed, bringing his feelings to the surface.

"I know you are," she says softly. "I'm yours too."

He doesn't seem perturbed by her confusion; instead, a smile pulls at his lips and he presses them to hers. "Good," he murmurs, studying her face, lovingly tracing its contours with his eyes. "Now, what's next?"

He pushes his erection into her belly, making her gasp.

"I think… it's your turn."

"My turn? Hm." He flips them, so she's straddling his waist. Then he sits up, enveloping her small body with all of his, his fingers tangling in her hair as he kisses her fiercely. After several, blissful seconds he trails his mouth to her ear. "Why can't it be both our turns?" he whispers as his hands grip her ass again, pulling her deeper into the cradle of his hips.

Olivia's head tilts back, her moan floating up into the cold December night.

"It can," she sighs, his clever tongue now encircling her left nipple, making her melt. "It definitely can."


They sleep late the next morning, and no wonder.

For once, Olivia wakes first. She uses the bathroom and then quickly strips off her pajamas to step beneath the hot shower - but stops dead in her tracks when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

Her bump has popped.

Yesterday evening, showing Stephen, it was a rise below her navel. This morning, looking down and from the side, she sees a perfect arc from her lower ribs to her pelvis.

"Oh my god!" she exclaims loudly, her right hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth. It is so incredible that her body has grown and changed so much overnight while she was asleep; so incredible that her baby is growing in there, every minute of every day.

She doesn't know how long she stands there, but the smile on her face eventually starts to hurt and she's shivering from the cold by the time she finally gets into the shower. Afterwards, hurriedly drying and dressing in leggings and a pale blue cashmere sweater (she'll change for lunch later, once they've gotten everything ready), she sits next to Fitz on the edge of their bed and leans down to kiss his cheek, lovingly brushing her fingers through his chestnut curls.

"Wakey wakey," she says quietly as he begins to stir.

"Mm. What time is it?" He opens one eye; looks at her skeptically in the pale morning light creeping into the room.

"Almost nine."

He blinks. "Shit."

He has a lot of cooking to get done before their guests arrive at one o'clock - but she couldn't care less about that right now.

"Look," she says, lifting her top. He frowns, trying to wake up and to adjust his vision in the semi-darkness. Olivia gets to her feet and opens the drapes, instantly brightening the room. It's snowing again, although she barely registers that fact because Fitz has noticed her bump now, and he looks just as amazed and excited as she feels.

"Wow, Livvie. Look at you." He sits up, reaching out to her. She comes to stand beside him as his gaze and his warm hands run over the new shape of her abdomen. Soft laughter escapes her lips, an expression of the joy inside which is threatening to spill over - but when their eyes meet, his are so full of tenderness she suddenly feels like she's about to cry.

"Oh baby," he says gently, seeing her reaction. He pulls her onto his lap, her legs hanging off the edge of the bed. "You are so gorgeous. I love you so much."

"I love you too."

He nuzzles her nose with his, his palm still resting on her bare tummy.

"Was it like this in the middle of the night?" she wonders aloud, fighting to stay in control of her emotions - most of which she couldn't even name right now.

"I don't think so. Maybe it was the sex. Maybe I put another baby inside you."

She looks at him, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows as if to say he's so virile that's something he could easily do, and then she's cracking up, laughing so hard she falls backwards onto the mattress, tears streaming onto her cheeks. It's just the release she needed. And, of course, she knows he did it on purpose, to make her feel better.

Just another thing to add to the enormous list of reasons she loves him, and things she will be forever grateful to him for.

"You are… insane," she manages to breathe between dissipating giggles.

He moves her legs off of him and then comes to lean over her, lightly kissing her lips, her breastbone, her belly. "I wish I had time to show you how insanely sexy I think you are," he says sincerely. "I also wish I didn't have this monster of a headache to hold me back."

"Aw, Fitzy. Are you hungover?"

"I guess so."

She cradles his face in her hands. "Poor baby. How much did you drink?"

"I don't know. I lost count somewhere around nine PM."

"And what time was our little rendezvous?"

"One, maybe?"

"Wow. Some celebration."

His weird behavior the previous day registers vaguely in the back of her mind - what exactly was he celebrating, again? - but it's gone before she can really latch on to it. There's just too much excitement in her veins right now.

"I know." He grimaces. "I'm probably still drunk, to be honest."

"You smell like you are," Olivia teases, and it's the truth - but she doesn't really mind.

"Jesus." He turns away and starts to get up. "I'm sorry. What a great father I'll be."

She shakes her head. "Oh, shush. You'll be the best and you know it. Now go shower and get your ass in that kitchen! Baby G can't wait much longer for another slice of your amazing ginger cake."

He looks down at her, still lying on her back across the bed with her midriff exposed. "Baby G is growing too fast. Are you sure they need more cake?"

For someone with a hangover, he moves surprisingly fast to avoid the pillow she throws at him.


The kitchen is in chaos: savory and sweet dishes being prepared simultaneously; wine and apple juice mulling on the stove; Christmas music blaring from the speaker on top of the fridge. After a hot shower, a strong coffee and two aspirin, Fitz's headache has calmed considerably. Now he's directing Olivia to assist him with various tasks but she keeps finding excuses to go into the bedroom, to gaze at herself in the mirror.

After the fourth time she disappears, he catches her in the act.

"Stop admiring yourself and come help me," he says from the doorway, making her jump - but there's a huge grin on his face. He's just as enamored with her changing body as she is. "So vain, Livvie."

"So pregnant. It's crazy."

"You're in for a shock," he laughs. "Still six months to go."

"I can't wait," she smiles, her muscles tensing with anticipation. She uses the energy to run across the room, jumping into his arms, raining kisses on his face.

"I won't be able to do this much longer," he comments, gazing up at her with blue eyes full of humor and love.

"I'd better make the most of it then," she replies, not missing a beat. "Take me to the kitchen!"

"Please?"

"Please."

He captures her lips once more. "You're so cheeky, miss."

"I'm so happy," she sighs.

"I know. Me too."

They don't return for a good five minutes - they're too busy making out against the bedroom wall.


"Oh my god," Abby cries when Olivia answers the door to her just before one o'clock. "Look at you!"

She gestures to her baby bump, obvious beneath her light gray, cotton dress. It's plain, long-sleeved, above the knee; dressed up with black tights and the pink diamond necklace Fitz bought for her birthday. With her long hair in a braid, falling forward over her left shoulder, and no makeup except a little mascara and blusher, Olivia is definitely making a statement: her home, with her friends, is not a place she is ever going to hide. In fact, right now it's the only place she can be herself.

(She hasn't even had time to figure out what she's going to do at her father's tomorrow. A huge part of her is just so tired of hiding her secret that she half-wants to wear something tight, like today, instead of the oversized holiday sweatshirt she has planned. But it's too late to worry about it now, when their guests have started to arrive. She'll have to make a last-minute decision in the morning: go with her gut and hope it isn't wrong.)

"I know, right?" she says to Abby, forcing herself to focus on the here and now. "Baby G is making an appearance just in time for Christmas."

"You look amazing. And something smells incredible too."

"That would be Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, chef extraordinaire."

"Wow. I mean, every magazine I've read since I was twelve years old has promised me that Mr Perfect is out there, just biding his time. But you actually found him, didn't you?"

"I did," Olivia confirms, intentionally smug. "He's real, and he's mine."

"Damn you."

She leads Abby into the living room where the sofa has been pushed back against the bookcase and the extended kitchen table is set up opposite, piled high with plates and glasses and festive decorations, ready to display all of Fitz's offerings. There are dozens of scented candles lit and scattered around; Michael Bublé crooning in the background. With the heating on and such delicious smells emanating from the oven, Olivia thinks it's the definition of cozy.

The adjoining kitchen is separated by a wide archway. Fitz turns when he hears them, but before Abby can greet him properly he's pointing up at the apex - where a sprig of mistletoe is hanging.

"Wait," he advises, mischief glinting in his eyes. "You have to kiss the chef to enter."

He's definitely recovered from his hangover now, and is full of Christmas spirit. Abby looks amused but dutifully kisses his cheek, giving him a hug too. "Doesn't your stunning, pregnant girlfriend mind you making out with all your guests?"

"Nah. She's cool, aren't you?"

"Oh, it works both ways," Olivia says lightly. She holds Abby's face in her hands and presses a long kiss to her cheek before she wraps her arms around her best friend. "Hi. I love you."

"Aw. I love you too. You're so cute today, Pope."

Fitz is watching them, clearly entertained. "That's the same way I greet Henry - but usually he grabs my butt too. He can't get enough of me."

Olivia rolls her eyes affectionately as Abby laughs.

"Speaking of Henry," her friend says, "I heard you two had a big night last night?"

"Did you?"

"I woke up this morning to some nonsensical texts he sent at about one AM. We were supposed to get coffee today but he called to cancel and he sounded rough."

Fitz's smile becomes very self-satisfied. "Yeah, I'm not surprised. We drank a lot."

"You seem okay."

"I've always handled my alcohol better than him."

"He's not here yet, you know," Olivia teases. "He can't hear you. No need to be so competitive in front of us."

"There's always a need to outcompete Dr Hunter. This feud has been going on for fifteen years; it's not gonna stop anytime soon."

"I wish it would," she mutters but Fitz hears loud and clear - and simply grins at her.

The door buzzer goes again while Abby, a keen baker herself, interrogates Fitz on everything he's made. Olivia welcomes Harrison and Kelsey, Quinn and Charlie, Cyrus and James and finally Henry himself - all of whom have the same reaction to her appearance as Abby did. The only people missing are Huck and Kim, who are already in Cuba visiting his family.

"So," Harrison enquires with a smile when everyone has dispersed throughout the living room and kitchen, greeting Abby and Fitz, being offered drinks. "Have you thought any more about how you want to reveal this-" He gestures to her abdomen. "-To the public?"

"Don't." She nudges him with her elbow. "I wasn't expecting to pop so early. God knows how I'll keep this hidden for the next couple of weeks. Anyway, I'll tell my dad tomorrow and my boss at the UN as soon as I go back to work in the New Year. Fitz will get his divorce finalized on January twelfth. And then… the big reveal."

"At the Selma premiere?"

"I think so."

"Good, because I got you and Fitz on the guestlist."

"You did? That's awesome Harri. Thank you."

"Merry Christmas! But it's also my job, that you pay me for, so…"

She laughs. "True. That's great news though."

"I agree. It's a good plan. Just you, standing out there in your truth: no prior leaks, no big announcements. It's authentic, it's what you both want, and it won't detract too much from the film premiere itself."

She puts her arm around his waist and leans into him. Most of that was his idea, come together over several phone calls in the past month, and she's so grateful they finally have a concrete set of steps for her to follow. He certainly earns his salary.

"Have you thought about who's going to dress you?" he continues.

Quinn is walking past with a glass of mulled wine and Olivia takes her other hand, drawing her into the conversation.

"Hey."

"Hey. We were just talking about my outfit for my 'coming out' party. The Selma premiere."

"Oh. It's definitely on?" Quinn asks Harrison.

"It's on. I found out yesterday."

"Awesome. Well your first choice, Laura Smalls, is available. I just have to let her know that we're going ahead and then I can arrange a meeting between you two asap. It's only, what, three weeks away?"

Olivia's heart flutters at the mere thought of being able to stand out in public with her body on display, with Fitz on her arm. "I can't wait," she says honestly.

"I can't either!" Quinn sounds just as excited as she feels. "So, what kind of dress are you thinking of?"

"I'm gonna leave you two to it," Harrison says good-naturedly before Olivia can answer. "Catch you in a bit."

They talk for a few minutes but Olivia is in high demand - everyone wants to ask about the baby. Can she feel movements yet? Does she have cravings? How is she surviving the holiday period without alcohol?

"Alcohol is so overrated," Henry states from his position on the couch. He's freshly showered and nicely dressed as usual, but he definitely looks worse for wear.

"Have you taken any painkillers, Doctor?" Fitz calls, crossing the room from the kitchen. He hands over a packet of acetaminophen and a glass of water.

"Good idea," Henry murmurs, slightly embarrassed. "Yes, I know," he says to the room. "We make the worst patients."

Olivia can see Abby wants to go over to him, to comfort him, which is fairly uncharacteristic of her. With previous boyfriends she's always let them suffer their hangovers in silence, regarding them as self-inflicted.

"Right," Olivia says to Fitz, sparing her friend from having to decide between a man and her morals. "Shall we bring out the food?"


They eat honey-roast ham, perfectly crispy potatoes with rosemary, salads and freshly-baked bread - all of which is absolutely delicious. It's an informal lunch, some people standing, some sitting on the sofa or on cushions on the floor. Like the night on Fitz's yacht, his friends and hers are interspersed, getting to know each other better. They truly are her family now.

Cyrus brings her another glass of mulled apple juice - which is probably the best thing she's ever drunk: hot and sweet, flavored with cinnamon and cloves - and asks if she found out Fitz's whereabouts the previous day.

"Apparently he was organizing me a surprise Christmas present," she says with a smile.

"Ah."

Abby joins them. "Who's organizing you a surprise present?"

"Fitz. At least, that's how he explained why he went missing for four hours yesterday afternoon."

"Well, it makes sense. He flew across the country for your birthday and spent the cost of a small sports car on that beautiful necklace. Of course he's planning something special for you."

The fact her best friend doesn't even consider an alternative explanation for his absence gives Olivia reassurance she didn't realize she needed.

"I wonder what it is," she muses aloud. She hates surprises, but at least with this one she only has to wait until tomorrow.

"Henry will probably know, seeing as they spent all evening together. I'll see if I can find out from him."

"I don't actually want to know," Olivia says but Abby is already walking away, heading towards Henry on the couch.

Cyrus leans in towards Olivia. "Are those two…?"

"They should be," she replies, watching them interact. "Fitz and I are trying."

James appears suddenly, seemingly from nowhere. "There's gossip happening here," he says, his tone half-playful, half-accusatory. "I want in!"

"You can take the man out of entertainment journalism," Cyrus says affectionately.

"We're just talking about Abby and Henry," Olivia informs him, wondering if she should be keeping this quiet - but seeing them flirt with each one another, it is pretty obvious.

"I thought something was going on. My sixth sense. Hey, great party by the way Liv. I love the décor. And Fitz's cooking… wow. He's a keeper."

"I know," she says with a smile. "He sure is."

"If you ever want to get rid of him…"

Cyrus feigns offence. "May I remind you, we are getting married in a few months?"

James kisses his cheek. "I know. I'm kidding. I love you, grumpy old man."

Cyrus makes a face at Olivia. "See what he calls me? I want a new pet name for Christmas please."

"I don't need to hear this," she laughs before James can speak. "I'm going to set up for Secret Santa."

Every year, they each spend fifteen dollars on one present. No one is allowed to go over budget or buy anything extra. But this time, her friends have surprised her.

"Before we start," Quinn announces, when they're all sat in a rough circle with the sack of gifts between them, "We bought you a little something, Liv. Me, Charlie, Abby, Huck and Kim."

"Guys. You shouldn't have." She takes the parcel and hugs her friend. "That's not in the rules."

"I know. It's nothing much."

Beneath the gold wrapping is a black t-shirt. Over the chest area are the words, 'Christmas Pudding in the Oven' - and beneath, a brightly-colored, glittering illustration of one.

"Oh, I love it." She catches Fitz's eye across the room and he's smiling widely too.

"Put it on," Abby calls.

She stands up and does so, smoothing the round pudding image over her bump. "How do I look?"

"So cute."

That's James. She blows him a kiss.

"Go stand by the tree with Fitz," Quinn says. "I'll take a picture of you two."

"Don't let anyone outside this room see it."

"Of course not."

Fitz puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her temple. "You are seriously cute in that," he murmurs, even as Quinn is taking photos. Olivia gazes up at him, feeling his free hand join hers on her abdomen. She doesn't even care that everyone is watching, that they're being caught on someone's phone: she reaches up for a quick kiss, unable to resist.

Of course, their audience erupts - a chorus of "Aww"s and a "Get a room!" from Henry.

Blushing, she parts from him again, but there's a promise in his blue eyes; one she's already longing to fulfil.

When Quinn shows her the pictures, they are all sickeningly sweet - and Olivia loves them. "Please can you send all of these to me?"

"Already have."

"Thank you."

"No problem. If any of the press ever give you a hard time, you could publish some. It's undeniable how in love you two are."

She sees Harrison nod thoughtfully, but hopes it won't come to that.

"Good idea. So, is everyone ready for their presents?"

They have a lot of fun trying to guess who has bought which gift. Fitz gets a dark blue t-shirt with a caption saying, 'Soon To Be A Daddy' and a picture of a baby's footprints below - plus a pack of earplugs which he hands straight over to Olivia, much to everyone's amusement.

"We need to retake the photos!" Quinn comments, and they do so as fast as they can, Fitz wearing his new shirt next to Olivia's.

Abby receives a chili-inspired cookbook; Quinn a hand-cream and chocolate (undoubtedly from one of the guys); Henry an Oktoberfest-themed set of beer glasses. James's present is hilarious: a plastic tiara with a veil attached and a white satin sash which reads, 'This Bride-To-Be Is A Diva!'

"I love it," he grins, immediately putting them both on.

Kelsey gets a novelty pink umbrella with cat ears and a face; Harrison a smart desk calendar for his office. Cyrus is pleased with his set of Grow Your Own Herbs for the kitchen (that was Olivia's gift). And whoever bought Charlie's knows him well: a collection of miniature vodkas with unusual flavors.

"Pickle, jalapeno, glazed donut and whipped cream," he reads aloud from the box. "Awesome. Thanks Santa."

Olivia finds herself fighting back a sudden wave of nausea.

She is last to open her present. It's a small, rectangular box - and inside is a vibrating bullet. She has no choice but to show the entire group. "Who bought me a sex toy?" she asks accusatorily, trying to suppress her giggles.

"We don't need that," Fitz adds, with derision and more than a hint of male pride in his voice - and the whole room falls about laughing.

She looks around, trying to find the culprit; as soon as her eyes land on Henry, she knows it was him. Of course.

His green eyes acknowledge her, thoroughly amused. She doesn't say anything but she tries to warn him: I will get you back for this. He shrugs and raises his coffee mug in a salute (he's not drinking, for obvious reasons).

"Well, thank you Santa," she mutters, closing the box again. "I used to like you, but so far this year you've been a bit of a creep."

Fitz stands and walks over to her, holding out his hand, helping her to her feet. "After that climax," he quips, winking at her, "I think it's time we served dessert. Will you help me, baby?"

In the kitchen, disguised by the relative darkness and hoping their guests are distracted by their presents, Olivia lets him pin her to the counter with his hips. His kisses are slow and sensual, like he's savoring her.

She's breathless when he finally lets her go, gripping onto his biceps to steady herself. "Mmm. Hi."

"Hi," he murmurs, mirroring her smile. "Having a good time?"

"Of course. I can't believe Henry though."

"What?"

She gazes into her boyfriend's face, so handsome even when he's confused. "He bought me that bullet. I'm sure of it."

Fitz laughs as realization dawns. "Of course he did."

"We don't have to use it."

"Oh, we're gonna use it," he says playfully, and now it's her turn to frown.

"But you said-"

"We don't need it," he clarifies, his hands sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing over the curves of her boobs, hidden by his body, "But we're still gonna have fun with it."

She shivers. "Fitz…"

"You know what my favorite thing in the world is, Livvie." His low voice touches places deep inside her; caresses them, makes them dissolve. "Would you deny me that? And at Christmas, too?"

What can she say to that?

"Anyway, we need to feed our friends. Let's go." He presses a quick kiss to her lips before stepping away, casually opening the fridge. She has to take a deep breath, to shake herself out of the spell he's just put on her.

"You're such a tease."

"I know." He gives her the bowl of whipped cream to hold while he opens the container with his ginger cake inside. After putting it on a plate, he cuts her a small piece from the edge. "Can you forgive me?" he asks, feeding it to her.

She doesn't answer straight away. She can't. Her eyes fall closed as she cherishes the flavor - one she really has been craving over the past few days.

Fitz's palm rests briefly on her belly and he kisses her cheek. "For the baby," he says tenderly. "And for the love of my life."

"You're too good to us," she whispers, gazing into his adoring blue eyes.

"Impossible."

She'll never know how he always finds exactly the right thing to say; never understand how one man can be so staggeringly romantic without even trying.

But she hopes he never stops.


Fitz's desserts are a resounding success. As well as the spiced Bundt cake, he also whipped up a set of meringues which are light, fluffy and just the right amount of sticky. He's thoroughly pleased with himself, and vows to bake more regularly. Maybe he'll even be able to convince Olivia to join him… although he knows instinctively that she will hate being told what to do. The thought alone makes him chuckle.

When everyone has had their fill, she introduces a game. He watches her as she gives instructions to her friends, and she's just so happy, and he's overcome with love for probably the hundredth time that day.

Love, and desire.

She has no idea how sexy she is, standing there so effortlessly with her Christmas pudding bump, with her new and phenomenal curves. He wants to bury his face between her warm, heavenly breasts; nuzzle his way downwards, to the swell of her abdomen, to the gentle gradient it makes with her pubic bone. Just thinking about getting to slowly peel off her clothes later this evening is turning him on to the point he's not even listening to what she's saying, lost in such a visceral fantasy he can almost feel her soft, chocolate skin beneath his fingertips, his eager mouth.

He's only wrenched out of it when she's coming over to sit beside him, handing him a sticky note and a pen.

"What are we doing?" he asks quietly, noticing that the others are all writing already.

"Weren't you listening to me?"

He grins, unashamed. "No. I was imagining something very different…"

It's obvious she knows what he's talking about because she tries to give him a disapproving look even as her cheeks are flushing pink. "You're so bad."

"I know. Help me, please."

She sighs but she's smiling. "It's the forehead game. You write the name of someone, dead or alive, famous or not, and then you stick it to my forehead and I have to guess who I am in less than twenty questions."

"Oh yeah. I've played this before."

"Good. This is a couples' version though, so we write one for each other and then I only ask you my questions and vice versa."

He looks around the living room. Abby is paired up with Henry.

"Clever, aren't I?" Olivia smirks.

"You're a genius, sweet baby."

He rewards her with a kiss.

They go around the room, one member of the couple asking questions of their partner until they get a false answer, and then it moves onto the next pair. When it comes to his turn, Fitz casts his mind briefly through all of Olivia's idols, her favorite authors and actors, people they've had conversations about recently. It gives him a shortlist of ideas about whose name she might have chosen. By his second go, he's narrowed it down to an American woman who is an activist, a writer and an inspiration.

"Am I… dead?"

"Yes, sadly."

He thinks he knows who it is. Someone Olivia mentions all the time. Someone whose books adorn the shelves behind them.

"Am I African-American?"

"Yes." Her eyes light up. She knows he's got it.

"Did I write poetry?"

"Yes!"

"Still I Rise; Caged Bird?" She's nodding frantically. "Am I Maya Angelou?"

"Yes! Good work Fitzy!" She high-fives him.

Harrison, sitting next to Fitz, interrupts their celebration. "Alright, alright. You haven't won yet, Liv. You still have to figure out who you are. Come on Kels," he says, squeezing her knee. "Let's beat these amateurs."

It seems Olivia isn't the only competitive person in the room. But she is very instinctive, and she works out who Fitz has chosen for her in two rounds as well, giving them the victory.

"So I'm a white woman in politics, but not a politician… I'm American… I'm dead… Is my husband also dead?"

"Yes."

"Was he… assassinated?"

"Yep."

"Was he JFK?"

"He was."

"Am I Jackie Kennedy?"

Fitz grins. "You certainly are."

She throws her arms around him. "We won! Woohoo!"

Harrison groans; Kelsey rolls her eyes and tries half-heartedly to comfort him. Over the next five minutes the remaining couples try to guess who they are, with Cyrus eventually giving up altogether and ripping the Post-It off his forehead ("Who the hell is Kris Jenner?"), much to James's despair. When it gets around to Abby, sat on the floor beside Henry's chair, she stands up.

"I think we're out. Look."

He's fast asleep.

Olivia laughs, gesturing to her best friend. "Oh, this is too good an opportunity to miss. Come with me."

They disappear from the room. Fitz watches them go, wondering what his girlfriend is up to. Charlie and Quinn offer to refill everyone's glasses, the mulled wine still being kept warm on the stove. Outside the windows, the sky is beginning to darken and he feels a tremble of anticipation run down his spine. Not many hours left of this Christmas Eve; not long until he gets to give Olivia her present.

He cannot wait.

"Another game, before you all have to go?" he suggests.

There's a chorus of agreement.

Olivia and Abby reappear, giggling like schoolgirls together. Olivia asks Charlie for the green felt hat he was wearing when he arrived, the one with the elf ears. Abby leans over Henry and draws two big circles on his cheeks with red lipstick, then puts the hat over his blonde hair. He stirs but doesn't wake.

"Hmm," she says. "Needs something else."

Olivia chooses two gold baubles from the tree and Abby hangs them over his ears. "Perfect."

They both take pictures of him with their phones. Fitz notices him open one eye while his attackers aren't looking; sees a smile pull at his lips. Then, when Abby bends over him again to get a close-up shot, he suddenly grabs her around the waist and pulls her towards him, kissing her even as she's screaming in surprise.

Fitz sees Olivia turn to look at him, her pretty mouth wide open in shock. There are general cheers and whoops from around the room, including from Fitz himself. Abby's cheeks are almost as crimson as Henry's when he finally lets her go.

"You deserved that," Henry teases, but he's looking up at her with undisguised affection.

"It was Liv's idea," she mumbles, fanning her face with her hand - but when he tries to draw her onto his lap she lets him, intertwining their fingers and totally failing to hide her smile.

"Well," Fitz says, taking pity on them and trying to relieve Abby's awkwardness. "It's about time. Now, shall we continue with couples or make this round a free-for-all?"


By seven o'clock, everyone has left and Fitz is finally alone with his girl. The clearing up is all done, the furniture back in its place, the candles burning low and the tree lights filling the room with a warm glow. They've nibbled on leftovers and chocolates and now they're wrapped up on the sofa together, half-watching It's A Wonderful Life but mainly talking, cuddling, kissing.

"I had the best day," Olivia says contentedly, her head resting on his shoulder, her small hand beneath his t-shirt stroking his abs. "I love our friends."

"Me too."

Her phone vibrates. "It's Abby. 'Can't believe that happened. Also can't believe I'm on my way to my stupid parents' and won't see him again until NY.'"

"She's not driving, is she?"

"No, her brother picked her up. She'd had quite a bit to drink."

"That's what I thought."

He kisses Olivia's hair, still in its long braid.

"So, tomorrow," she says with a sigh, sitting up to look at him. "Dad's at church until eleven, so I think if we leave then we'll arrive at his house around the same time he does."

"Okay. You don't seem very excited."

She shrugs. "I'm nervous. Today was just… amazing. I got to be myself, to talk about the baby to anyone who asked. Tomorrow, I have to go back into hiding."

"So just tell him first thing."

She looks away. "I don't know. I don't want to ruin Christmas day."

"Liv… we planned this."

"I know. But maybe it can wait until Boxing Day morning? I'll tell him just before we leave, and then he'll have all the space he needs to digest it."

Fitz rubs his palm up and down her back, trying to ease some of her stress. "Look, I'll do whatever you want. He's your father, you know him. I just hate seeing you like this. Plus, how exactly are you going to hide?"

They both look down at her cute little bump beneath her gray dress. Right now, he wants to shout about it to the whole fucking world.

"I'm just gonna wear my big sweater and hope he doesn't notice. Hey," she adds, "You didn't pick up your suit from the drycleaners. The one you dropped off yesterday?"

Fitz's heart thumps against his ribs. So many lies he had to tell her. He hated himself for every single one - but it was all worth it. She just has no idea why.

Yet.

He gazes into her dark eyes for a long moment, so beautiful and full of intrigue and concern. And then, suddenly, he realizes that he wants her to know. She deserves to know. He can't wait until tomorrow.

He can't wait another second.

He gets up from the couch, feeling a sense of urgency unlike anything he's known before; runs into the bedroom, pulls out his briefcase from under the bed, finds the manila envelope. She's sitting up straight when he returns, looking confused.

And utterly perfect.

His whole world.

"I was trying to wait until tomorrow to give you this," he says, his voice - his entire body - shaking as he perches beside her. All the excitement that has been building inside him since the phone call from his lawyer two days earlier; all the joy of yesterday afternoon and evening, shared with Henry instead of this exquisite girl in front of him - now it's filling him from head to toe, bursting its way out of him.

"Happy Christmas, Livvie."

Frowning, clearly with no idea what's happening, she gently slides the certificate from the envelope. He watches so closely as she reads the words, his breath stuck in his chest, frozen solid. She scans them once and then again, trying to take them in.

The third time, she leaps up and she screams.

"What?"

Her hand is over her mouth, trembling; her eyes already full of tears as they meet his. She glances down one more time, convincing herself that this is real, that the piece of paper in front of her really does say what she thinks it does:

Certificate of Divorce.

And Fitz laughs. It's the only release for this crazy energy, for this overwhelming love he has for her. He stands up and opens his arms to her as if to say, Here I am.

"I'm yours."

She screams again. Then she drops the envelope to the floor and throws herself at him, laughing too even as she sobs. He lifts her beneath her thighs, her legs wrapping around his waist; she cradles his face and kisses him wildly, with everything she has.

"How-? When-?"

He can't answer because she won't let him, won't let his mouth do anything other than kiss her back. And he'd love nothing more than to indulge her forever - but eventually he has to force her to stop, desperate for oxygen.

"Baby, wait. Wait."

She looks at him, love burning in her eyes, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

"Yesterday," he breathes, in answer to the million questions he knows she must have. "Divorce court. You know, the suit, the sneaking around, celebratory drinks with Henry…"

"And you didn't tell me? Wait. Actually, I don't care. You're mine."

He's never seen such a huge smile on her face before.

Their lips meet again, hungrily. He sits down as his blood starts to heat, as her hands roam over his muscles, into his hair. It only hits him - really, truly registers - when he's peeled off her dress, revealing her to his ravenous gaze. She's kneeling over him, with her pretty lace bra and her tights pushed down to her hipbones, and he runs his palms over her bare belly and realizes that he's finally free. Free of his past life; free of every single worry he's had over the last few months.

Free to belong to this woman, to give himself to her, to their baby. To go all in today, and every day that follows.

And his desire explodes.

"I love you," he says over and over, kissing every part of her within reach, pulling off the rest of their clothes, making love to her there on the sofa until she's coming above him, crying out his name. He'll never forget this image of her: head thrown back with mind-blowing pleasure; fingers laced through his and holding on for dear life; body writhing on him, sixteen-and-a-half weeks pregnant and glowing in every imaginable way.

It triggers the most powerful, most emotional climax; one that leaves him clinging onto her for ages afterwards, unwilling and unable to let go. He never wants this day, this evening, this moment to be over. Never wants to forget how it feels to be one with somebody; to know his place in the world with absolute clarity.

This is where he belongs, and nowhere else.

This is home.

Olivia finally makes him move; drags him into the shower with her where she starts to cry again, completely overcome.

"Please stop," he says softly, cradling her face, kissing away her tears. "You'll make me cry too."

"Sorry," she sniffs, a smile curving her lips. "I'm just so happy. I didn't realize how much it had been bothering me, you still being married."

"I feel the same way."

He carefully dries her afterwards, spending a lot of time talking to her tummy, making a thousand promises to their unborn child.

"We're so lucky," she sighs, her fingernails running through his curls. "I love you so much, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III."

He stands, wrapping the towel around her shoulders, hugging her so tightly into his chest. "You have no idea how much I love you, Olivia Carolyn Pope. None at all."

Perhaps she doesn't - or perhaps she just knows better than to argue with him tonight.

Snuggled in bed, she asks him when he found out about the court date.

"Only on Monday morning. That phone call which I pretended was Cyrus? It was Jemima King."

"Wow. It seems so last minute, three days before Christmas."

He looks at her. Now that she knows he's hers and no one else's, it doesn't seem like he needs to avoid his ex-wife's name anymore. She can't threaten them. She's gone.

"Mellie managed to get us a last-minute cancellation slot… just like she said she would."

He can still barely believe it himself, that she was true to her word.

"Did you see her?" Olivia asks quietly.

"Yes."

"How are you feeling?"

He draws her even closer, their legs entwined, their noses inches apart - but it's still not close enough. It never will be.

"Oh, Livvie. It was over so long ago. I just feel… so excited for the future with you. I feel like I can finally give you and our baby everything you need."

She gives him a breath-taking smile.

"Merry Christmas, Fitzy. Thank you for being mine. Ours."

"Always."