Warning: Fluff ahead :)
"Liv, we're heading to the beach."
"Did you bring-"
"Yeah, we've got sunscreen."
"And did you-"
"Yes, mom, we've got water. Please just let us go, we already know the drill." Zoey chimes in. All three of them chuckle, exchanging a look that she doesn't miss.
"Ok, fine. We'll see you in a little while."
It's been the same routine for the past three weeks. Fitz lets her sleep in, while he gets them breakfast. Kids are usually done by the time she comes down. He comes back from his morning run, as they're heading out, so the two of them get a bit of alone time, before joining everyone. It's been the same routine; but it's not tiresome, it's comfortable, dependable; normal and regular.
"Hey sleepy-head." He's standing in the doorway his white t-shirt clinging to his chest. His hair is wet, little droplets of sweat hanging from the few unruly curls on his forehead. Seeing him like this, every morning, it never gets boring. It still takes her breath away; he still takes her breath away.
"Hi." She's turning around, flashing him her best seductive smile.
"Kids gone?"
"Kids gone."
In a blink of an eye he's standing in front of her; she's kissing him; it's hungry and deep; his hands on her ass; he's lifting her; it's his neck and her collarbones; they're stumbling to the wall; then, "Sorry, we forgot the sunscreen." She bites his lip and her head is on her shoulder, hiding. The door closes and he can't stop laughing.
"Stop! It's not funny. He just walked in on us!" And she's playfully slapping his arm, she's mortified, why does he get to have fun.
"We were making out."
"My tongue was down your throat. And your hands… Oh my God, we just scarred that child!" She's burying her head in his neck, shutting her eyes, closed tight; opening them, hoping she'd wake up.
"Liv, it's fine." And she looks up at him, opening one eye. It's adorable; he can't resist, he goes in for a kiss.
"Oh, no. We are not-"
"What? You think they'll come back saying there's something else they forgot?" He's laughing again and she can't help herself; her lips are back at his neck, her hands gliding down his chest. She barely manages to utter, "Upstairs."
They finally join the kids on the beach. As they're walking up, the minors are smiling knowingly.
"Sorry about that Gerry." She's bright red; 50 shades.
"Oh, no that's fine." And he can barely hold in a laugh.
"I'm going for a swim. Ladies care to join me?" And the three of them are walking off, breaking into a run; racing to the water, disappearing in the sun.
"Ger, seriously, do we need to talk about this?" His tone is warm, parental concerned. And the boys face straightens up, a worried look growing in his eyes.
"No dad, really, it's fine. I guess just…" there's an encouraging nod "I mean, should we have 'the safe talk'?" He barely manages to get the last sound out before breaking into a laugh, his whole body collapsing into the sand.
"Oh, that's just. Funny. You're a funny kid. Real funny Gerry." He grabs him from the sand, picks him up and throws him over his shoulder; it's getting more difficult, the boy's growing up and he's getting older. In a matter of seconds they're in the water ruining the game the girls were playing, they're splashing water in their face; splashing water everywhere. It's a fight; the best kind.
"I don't want to go." He's sprawled out on the bed, his feet on the floor; his voice sounds whiney, like a child who's lost control.
"He's your boss." She retorts from the bathroom; trying to sound stern. "We don't have to stay long." One last look in the mirror. She closes her eyes, a moment to wonder – is it too much. The deep-v neckline barely held up by the thin straps; and the plunged backline mere inch above her ass; but the white is radiating off her skin, and she knows he'll love it. She steps into the closet and picks up her shoes – silver stilettos – this will hurt; and then she's walking into the bedroom.
"Ready to go?" She's trying to keep her face innocent; wipe off any trace of a smile when she sees his face.
"You cannot be serious." He's looking at her incredulous. "You can't expect me to leave the house right now, to behave the whole night, with you looking-" his eyes dart up and down one more time, mentally undressing her, "like that."
"Oh, but I can." She turns around with a smirk; he's about to fall in step, but then he sees the back.
"You're killing me."
The party is outside. It's a warm August night. She's standing by the pool; he's getting them drinks; but really he's just looking. Looking at the way the pool lights dance on her skin; the way her eyes illuminate the night; the way she's biting her lip, while looking at him. It's a party full of people, but they don't know; in that moment they're alone.
"Cy, thanks for inviting us."
"Thanks for showing up. You're my shining star! And you must be Olivia." He's stretching his hand out, and she takes it. There's something in his eyes, something she doesn't like; but she pushes the feeling aside. "It's a pleasure."
"No, the pleasure's all mine. You've been on my radar for quite some time." She's not sure what that means, but she lets it slide; it's not the place, nor the time. "Oh, James, over here." And he's waving to a familiar-looking man.
"Oh, my God. James, James Novak? I Haven't seen you since…"
"Darfur."
"Yes. Wow, that seems a lifetime ago." And she steps in for a hug; not missing Fitz's inquiring eyes.
"You know each other?" Cyrus looks mildly annoyed; his voice sweet, his eyes threatening.
"Yes, we worked together in-"
"Darfur. Got that." And his husband shoots him a look; but she feels that's just Cyrus; no tact, no need for the polite act.
And Fitz tries to break the awkward silence, "So, you're Cyrus' husband. It's great to put a face to the name."
Cyrus pulls him away, there are people to meet, people to greet, people to impress with the Pulitzer. Fitz hates it. The smiling and shaking hands, the pats on the back. He hates feeling like a trophy, like a prize, something to polish, to shine. He finally slips away, ready to grab her to make their getaway.
"James, you mind if I steal Liv?" He pulls her in an embrace, her back molding to his chest.
"By all means. I feel bad I've monopolized her for most of the evening anyway." Half an hour later they're finally home; kids asleep; they're alone.
"That dress needs to go."
"Oh, I don't think so." She's slipping off her heels, smiling at him. And he starts chasing her, catching up by the time she reaches the stairs, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her the rest of the way. He lowers her slowly onto the bed; her hands are wrapped around his neck, her fingers lost in his hair. She's looking into his eyes, getting lost in the stars.
She's lying on top of him, their bodies heaving; they're trying to steady their breathing. He's looking at her and a simple realization washes over him – he's happy. And it's not just because of the way she flutters her lashes and bites her lip; or the way her fingers are absentmindedly tracing little circles on his hips; or the way she smiles at him; or the way she plays with her hair. It is all that. But it's also so much more. It's that she loves his kids and she shows it, so they know it; it's that she raised Zoey; it's that she makes him want to be the best version of himself. He wants her, all of her and he wants to ask, but he's afraid. In his mind if he pushes her she could walk away; he doesn't seem like a reason enough to stay. He wants to ask, but he's afraid. So, instead, "I think we should get a bigger place." And he does, one day; but this, this is not about rooms, or size, location or garage; no, this is about insecurity, trying to commit without making her blink.
"I like my place. It has the most magical view." She doesn't see what he's trying to do.
"But we might need a bigger place, one day."
"Well, then we'll talk about it then." She's drifting asleep with the sound of his heartbeat. He stays awake for hours, eyes wide open; because every time he closes them, he sees the night they looked at the stars; the night they lay on the grass, the night he asked; the night they broke each other's heart.
And they spend the next they packing, doing chores, running. He's avoiding her, he needs time; he needs a signal, a sign of what she'd say, would she get scared, would she walk away. Dinner is quiet, they are all lost in thought – contemplating the end of the summer; the return to reality; the burst of the bubble. Grim faces; dull eyes and fleeting smiles signaling there's only hours to go until their goodbyes. Liv finally snaps, "We're camping out tonight."
His head shoots up. "We're what?"
"We're camping out. In the backyard. It's warm enough. We'll lie down and we'll hang out, we'll watch the stars." They're all starting to smile. "Karen and Zo can you please get blankets from upstairs, and Ger there should be some sleeping bags stored away under your bed."
They sit in the yard for a while. They play charades, until they're tired and worn out from laughing all night; they stay up until their eyes hurt, until their throats burn from laughter. And they lie down in a circle, their heads together, limbs apart – they're forming a star.
"Did you know that when you look up, up at the stars, you're actually looking into the past?" Karen asks with a smile, her eyelids almost giving up.
"Wow, really?" Zoey opens her eyes to look at the sky again, hoping she'd see a glimpse into her past; a glimpse into the life she missed out. "Who told you that?" She's skeptical, it's too amazing, too magical.
"Dad. He used to be obsessed with stars when we were growing up. He'd just sit outside and stare at the sky every night. And then I asked him why – and he said he was looking into the past. It's because the light travels really fast."
And with that the girl is out. The kids are falling asleep; they're sharing a dream.
"Liv, you asleep?" She smiles, this is so typical.
"Nope. But I should be. You should be."
He turns on his side and props himself up on his elbow, rising over Karen and looking at her. "You got the flat because of the view. Because of the stars. Because the lights remind you of stars. The view. It's why you don't want to give it up. I get it now." And she's on her side, looking up, reaching for his cheek as Karen's chest rises rhythmically.
"Yeah. I… That night. Before I messed up and you messed up, you said the thing about looking at the stars and seeing the past; and I said that that makes passing time less sad, because the perfect moment we had had, we could just look up, look at the stars, and they'd take us back, back into the past. So when I missed you, I'd look up and for a moment and I could pretend we were back there. I could pretend I said yes. Then the lights replaced the stars, but it was always you, always that night, always that mess-up." And his hand is covering hers. This is it. This is the sign. The signal. She's not scared; she won't walk away. He can ask and they'll be OK.
They stay like that for a little while. They lose the stars in each other's eyes. It's a signal. It's a sign. They're written in the stars.
The thing about the stars – I read this quote in Sophie's World years ago, and it's been stuck in my head forever, so I really wanted to include it in a Fic and this chapter seemed like the right time:
"The only way we can look out into space, then, is to look back in time. We can never know what the universe is like now. We only know what it was like then. When we look up at a star that is thousands of light-years away, we are really traveling thousands of years back in the history of space." - Jostein Gaarder
So I've introduced Cy and James, they'll be back. There's a plot coming up with them. And the next chapter… well, all I'm going to say is – it's a game changer. I'll try and have it up by tomorrow morning (my time), so it should be tonight for the West Coast, but it East might already be asleep :)
As Always – thanks for reading and for reviews – your support and encouragement means the world!