A/N: Hi everyone! So I know I haven't updated any of my other fanfictions in forever, but I just don't have that many great ideas for their storylines so far, which is why I'm really only adding on to this fic at the moment. This chapter is going to be about Olivia getting sick, and Fitz coming over to take care of her, since I'm just in the mood for random, extreme fluff right now. Please R&R, and constructive criticism would be grand. Enjoy!
Olivia knew that she should've taken better care of herself, and maybe should've forced herself to eat or sleep and take a break. However, the case had been huge, and she'd been working with her team 24/7, and she honestly hadn't had any time to do those things, which was why, as she tried to think past the pounding in her head, she was regretting her decisions.
She dialled Abby's number now, remembering that meeting she had with Fitz about his state of the union speech; he'd finally managed to persuade her into convening with some of his speechwriters, and now she was slightly regretful that she wasn't even going to be there; still, she thought, it was the thought that counted.
Abby picked up on the third ring, sounding tired. "Hello?" "Abby." Olivia winced at how bad she sounded, her voice raw. "Liv? You sound really off. Are you drunk or something?" Olivia huffed a small laugh. "I don't get drunk, Abby, at least not easily or frequently. I need you to do something for me."
The sunlight streaming in was making her head hurt even more, and she clenched her fists to try and focus on Abby's voice which sounded garbled and meaningless through the phone. Finally, she gave up and cut through Abby's monologue; "I have no idea what you're saying, but could you please fill in for me at the White House? I promised Fi-the president that I would be at his meeting. Thanks."
If Abby noticed Olivia's slight stumble over Fitz's name, she didn't show it, and instead asked, "Why?" Olivia briefly wondered if she should make up an excuse, but didn't have the energy to come up with a convincing lie, so she went with the truth. "I'm just a little...under the weather today," she said, forcing a nonchalant tone. "Wait, you're sick?" Abby asked incredulously; this was the first time Olivia had gotten sick in nearly five years, so of course she was surprised. "Abby, can you do it or not?" Olivia asked, impatient and tired. "Um-Yeah, yeah, of course." Olivia sighed a 'thanks' into the phone and then hung up.
Fitz wasn't looking forward to his meeting, but at least Olivia would be there, he thought. Frankly, he didn't care about the State of the Union, and it meant Mellie and Cyrus nagging him and nagging him about how vital his approval ratings were. However, when he entered the room, Olivia wasn't there. Everyone had stood upon his entrance, and he surveyed their faces; at Olivia's spot was a red-head, holding a black folder. Fitz absentmindedly motioned for everyone to sit down, and once the speechwriters were convening with each other, he leaned towards the red-head. "Where's Olivia?" he asked rather rudely, but he'd been looking forward to seeing her. "She couldn't come today, Mr. President; I'm Abby."
Abby proffered a hand for him to shake, but Fitz ignored it and eventually she put it down, looking annoyed. "Why couldn't she come?" "She said something about feeling under the weather, but here's the list of topics she drafted." Abby tried to give him the folder, but Fitz mumbled an excuse and went to stand by the corner, dialling Olivia's phone number. He hadn't expected her to pick up, but surprisingly, she did, after only three rings.
Olivia felt worse than before, and the email she was trying to answer blurred in and out of focus. Her headache had worsened, and she'd started coughing as well. She was pretty sure she had a fever, given how cold she was; all in all, it probably was just a mild touch of flu. When the phone on her coffee table rang, she jumped slightly, and reached for it, clearing her throat.
"Olivia Pope," she answered brusquely. "Liv?" Fitz's voice sounded concerned, and Olivia honestly thought about hanging up, but deemed that too childish and decided to bite the bullet and continue the conversation. "Hi." He didn't say 'hi' back, but immediately started asking her questions. "Why couldn't you come? Abby said you were sick? Are you okay? Are you even really sick?"
"Fitz, stop. You focus on your speech. I'm actually a little under the weather, but I'm fine." She seemed to refute the statement by coughing sharply. "Liv!" "Well, I'll be fine," Olivia sighed. "I gave Abby a list of possible topics that would make you seem likeable and appeal to most of the American people, so-" "I'm coming over," Fitz said.
"No, Fitz, you can't afford to get sick. Also, you still have the meeting. I'll talk to you later. Bye." Olivia hung up before Fitz could reply.
Fitz's mind wasn't on the meeting, and he offhandedly agreed to Abby's words-in the end, he chose immigration and foreign policy to be his speech topic, and told the writers to not make him sound too liberal or conservative, but moderate. Obviously, they were well-versed in what they should write, but at that point, Fitz was just saying things to keep them satisfied.
Once the meeting ended, Fitz thanked everyone and told Tom to get his car ready. Cyrus blocked his way furiously, knowing exactly where Fitz was about to go. "Didn't you tell me to start acting like a president?" Fitz asked. "Well, here I am, as your president, telling you to get the hell out of my way." He unceremoniously moved Cyrus aside, though gently, and got into the waiting car.
Olivia coughed again, and wondered if she needed some sort of medicine. Her cupboards had nothing in them, and she was starting to feel incredibly dizzy. She was just wondering if it was worth moving to turn up the heat when someone knocked on her door. She got up and looked through the peephole. Oh dear god, he'd actually came. She opened the door, opening her mouth to chastise him, but then coughed instead. His blue-grey eyes instantly filled with concern. "Livvie, are you okay?"
"Fitz, I'm finc! You're supposed to be at the White House." "I have speech writers," Fitz said. "You're not just supposed to be writing that speech; you're supposed to be running the country," Olivia retorted, although the effect was ruined when she stumbled slightly, a wave of dizziness passing over her.
Fitz frowned at Olivia; she looked exhausted-well, of course, she looked beautiful, as always, but he saw that she was shivering slightly even with a blanket draped over her shoulders and that she was holding onto the door for support. The whole time he'd known her, Fitz hadn't seen Olivia being vulnerable; she'd loosened up when she was with him, sure, but most of the time, she was still Olivia Pope, fierce gladiator and political fixer that could fight anything and come out unscathed. Even when they were fighting, when she was near tears, she was invulnerable and fierce. Now, she looked small without her usual power suit on, and he just wanted to help her.
Olivia noticed that Fitz was studiously studying her, and she sighed. "Come in," she said, returning to her position on the couch. Fitz joined her, sinking down next to her, his gaze moving to the TV turned to the news with the volume low. He knew that she liked to hear it in the background, and Olivia opened up her laptop, returning to her emails so he could see that she was working. However, he leaned over and took the laptop out of her hands after a short while, and before Olivia could say anything, but his hand on her forehead to check her temperature.
She was warm, too warm, hot, even. He realized she was shivering still, and that she was squinting her eyes the way she did when she had a headache. Fitz didn't have much experience taking care of sick adults, but he'd cared for Gerry, Karen, and Teddy often enough that he knew relatively what to do.
For one, he went and checked all the cabinets in Olivia's apartment and when he found only toothpaste, wine, and popcorn, called for one of his SSAs to get some medicine. Olivia was on her phone now, and Fitz took that away too. "Okay, let's go to bed," he said, gently standing her up.
Olivia didn't protest much, but simply let Fitz lead her to the bedroom and draw the blankets over her. "How'd the meeting go?" she finally asked, slightly awkwardly. "It was fine. Your substitute, Gabby-" "Abby," Olivia corrected immediately. Fitz, who honestly hadn't been focusing on Ga-Abby that much, laughed slightly. "Abby, then. She was capable. And slightly annoying."
That earned a smile out of Olivia. "Yeah, that's why she's so good at her job." Just then, the SSA walked in with the medicine, Fitz thanked him profusely, sifting through the bag. "Okay, why don't you take some Tylenol?" He handed Olivia the container, and she opened it and dry-swallowed the pills. Fitz raised an eyebrow at her efficiency, but then realized that he shouldn't be surprised; this was Olivia Pope, he thought humorously.
"You should go." Fitz looked down at her, curled in on herself. "What?" "You should go back to the White House and do your job. The medicine will kick in; thanks for that, by the way." "What? No, Olivia, when will it sink in? I'm not leaving you when you're sick; I'm going to help you." For a second, it was so quiet that Fitz looked down at her to see if she'd fallen asleep. But then, she said, in a whisper so quiet that it was barely discernible: "I don't like you seeing me like this."
Fitz laid down next to her and kissed her forehead. "Come on Liv." He kissed her nose. Olivia sighed. "I'm. Not. Leaving," Fitz whispered into her ear, and then felt her roll against him, her face against his chest and he smiled. "Get some sleep," he told her, and before long, he felt her breathing even out and held her closer.
Olivia woke up to her stomach turning and bile crawling up her throat. She threw off the covers and ran to the bathroom, gagging and emptying mostly bile into the toilet, as she hadn't eaten anything in nearly two days. As she dry-heaved and choked on the sourness of the bile, she felt Fitz's hands on her shoulders, felt him holding her hair back, and somehow that made it all a little more bearable.
Once the gagging had stopped, Olivia flushed the toilet and leaned against the cool porcelain and Fitz, his arms around her. A little while later, she sat up and rinsed her mouth, washed her face, brushed her hair.
"You want anything to eat?" Fitz asked her. Olivia thought about this. Her stomach had settled, and she did feel okay, less shivery and dizzy and weak than-"Fitz, how long was I asleep?" "It's a new day," he laughed, to her amazement-the day before. "Popcorn?" Olivia proposed. Fitz chuckled.
"Nice try," he laughed, "But I got you some real food. Well, sort of; soup. I also woke you up last night, by the way, but you might not remember it." Olivia tried to think; everything last night had been a haze, and she could dimly remember panic and darkness and then Fitz's voice in her ear. "I-I had a nightmare," she said, and Fitz nodded.
"It sort of freaked me out," he smiled ruefully, "but we got through it. Now do you want any soup?" "That depends; did you cook it?" Olivia teased him. "My cooking is decent, thank you very much," Fitz replied, glad to see her more normal and energetic. They went downstairs, and Fitz ladled the soup into a bowl. "Didn't your parents make you anything like this when you were sick?"
Olivia huffed out a laugh. "My parents didn't care; besides, I was at a boarding school for most of my time with them, at least the time I can remember clearly. There was an infirmary for illnesses, I think." She took another spoonful of soup and then looked up at him. "Thank you, Fitz, for staying," she said slowly, looking down again, and then back up when she felt his arms around her.
"Yeah, anything for you," he smiled. He leaned down to kiss her, really kiss her, and she pulled away. "You'll get sick," she reprimanded him. "And your job doesn't really allow that." "Dare I hope you come to the White House and take care of me if that happens? Through sickness and through health, right?" This earned him a full-on grin from her. "Yes, Fitz. Through sickness and through health," she replied, and finally let him kiss her.
~Fin