Ch8 – Taking it Slow, Pt.1

He can hear their laughter, the free kind, the loud kind, the kind that fills hearts and not just rooms, all the way down the hall. He's hurrying, unconsciously, they pull him in – like gravity. He pauses at the door for a moment, and just looks at them. Lynn is still bruised, her small body various shades of purple and blue, covered in little scrapes and bigger cuts; her arm still in a cast. But she no longer seems broken, nothing about this, about them feels broken. It feels like healing; like fresh air that suddenly reaches the lungs, makes them come alive, and leaves that feeling of invincibility cursing through the awakened body. He feels like that, looking at them, cuddled on the hospital bed, Liv telling her another story, from a different life. And for the first time he doesn't feel guilty for loving what he sees, for the fact that it makes him happy; for the first time he smiles without a hint of wistfulness, he smiles at the possibility of a life he can have – and with each moment that he lets himself love them fully, the pang of guilt vanes. She looks up and sees him, she realizes he's been watching them and she bows her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Hi," he says in that baritone that he knows she loves; the one that always makes her look up, makes her blush, makes her eyes gleam with inklings of desire, the soft auburn momentarily dark.

"Hi," she says as she looks up yet again; her smile widens.

"Fitz!" And it's an excited shriek, more than anything else; her head snapping up to look at him, her arms extending to invite him in. But she makes no attempt to move from Liv's embrace; she's snuggled in too perfectly, her little head has found just the right angle resting above Liv's breast; Liv's arms have found a way to make her feel both loved and safe. He smiles as he drops the bag with Liv's stuff on the chair, and she nods appreciatively in acknowledgment. He pulls his jacket off slowly, looking at Liv the whole, entire time; tilting his head slightly to the side as he frees himself from the sleeves. She bites her lip, then quickly kisses Lynn's temple, as she realizes the girl's eyes are darting between them. He kicks his shoes off and climbs on the small bed, his feet touching Liv's, his nose brushing against hers as he kisses the top of Lynn's head. They both look away, not yet ready for the things they would see, if they let their eyes meet.

"So how you feeling this morning C?" He asks, trying to shift his focus to anything other than her lips.

"OK." The girl says happily, shifting slightly in her place, to get a better look at him. "You're acting funny." And Liv chuckles quietly, as he blushes, furrowing his brows as he tries to play coy. He can tell that the girl isn't buying what he's selling, her face unimpressed; she's not blinking, her blue eyes piercing through him. "Do you have an STD?" And he starts coughing, but she's undeterred, keeps on talking. "Because, Amber's dad's girlfriend said that boys act funny when they have an STD." He sees Liv's grin out of the corner of his eye; she's not even trying to hide how much she's enjoying this.

"No, C, I don't have an STD. Do you even know what an STD is?" And he knows he shouldn't have asked; he knows as the words escape his lips, and he sees her shaking her head, mouthing a no; but it's too late – he served the conversation to the six year-old on a silver platter.

"No! I don't!" she says excitedly. "What is it?" She turns her head expectantly from Liv, to Fitz, than back to Liv. Liv just chuckles and nods towards him.

"It's a disease. Well diseases." She frowns, and tilts her head, as if trying to determine whether what he's saying is true.

"What kinds of diseases?" She asks biting her lip nervously.

"Treatable ones." He stops himself before he can say mostly; he's learning on his feet. There are just some things that need to be sugar-coated; and well some that just need to be straight-out lies. She looks at him, slightly confused. "It means there's a cure."

"Oh." She seems relieved, but then, "But if there's a cure, why do they make boys act funny?"

"They don't." He says, glancing at the door, trying to will them to open. He has never wanted a nurse to come in; he has never longer more to see Stephen.

"But Amber's dad's gi-"

"Amber's dad's girlfriend talks too much. STDs don't make boys act funny. And some girls act funny when they get STDs as well and-"

"Girls can get STDs?" She asks, horrified, her eyes twice their regular size. "Can I get one?"

"No, C, you really, really can't get one."

"Oh." She says with a sigh of relief, but then, "How do people get them?" So close. He was so close to getting away with it. So, so close. But now, now he's trying to decide what he should discuss first with this particular 6 year-old, sex, or contraception.

"You know what," He says grinning, and looking at Liv, "since Liv is a doctor, and a very good one at that, I'm sure she can explain it a lot better than I can." And her grin fades instantly, her smirk disappears as she shoots him a death glare, that almost makes him shiver. But before she can speak, the door opens.

"Hello, Miss Carolyn Grant, age six, how are you doing today?" The man asks in a warm tone. She giggles and blushes; she likes him, and Fitz gets it – he's tall, dark-haired, charming; he plays with her and pays attention to her, and he's a fan of unicorns – basically every girl's dream.

"You're funny!" She exclaims, clapping her hands. "We were just talking about STDs." She says, pride in her voice. She's trying to show off, to impress him with her medical knowledge.

Steven just looks between the two of them, as they hop off the bed, grinning. Fitz pats him on the back as he passes him, and Liv just mouths, sorry. "I need to go shower." She says as she grabs the bag from the chair.

"And I… I need to go, get you a cup of coffee." Fitz smiles at Steven widely, before closing the door behind him. "I feel bad about leaving him in there." He says, as they walk away.

"He'll be fine." She says looking at him; a smile on her lips matching his. They stop, without realizing. They're standing in a deserted hallway, lost in a gaze. His eyes are lost in hers; in the specs of gold; in the warmth, in the tenderness that radiates through them. And he's taking in the way her skins seems to emit a glow, the way it looks so inviting, so soft – every fiber of his being is yearning for him to touch it. And the small dimples when she smiles; the dimples that make him smile as well; there's something so innocent in them; something so genuine. Her lips. The last time they kissed they tasted like coffee and tears – hers, or his? They felt like a burden being lifted; like homecoming – like finding himself, his true self, in another human being. Her tongue slipping in, and his past is falling away; crumbling like a city made of dust; and his future is in the beat of her heart. He needs to feel that again; life coursing through him as he discovers a whole new universe in the creases of her lips, a new world as her tongue glides against his, constellations in her eyes as she breathlessly looks at him; her hands feverishly clutching his neck. He steps towards her, slowly, but she seems taken aback; and he cups her cheek in the palm of his hand. He runs his thumb across her lips, smiling. But then he feels her body stiffen; her expression change.

"Liv?" He asks, as he lowers his hand, but he stays in place. He's not giving her more space; if she wants it, she'll have to take a step back. She looks at the floor, and shakes her head, almost absentmindedly, as if trying to get her thoughts to make sense. "Liv?" And his hand reaches for hers, but he stops himself, and just lets it hover next to hers, their knuckles almost touching, heat radiating off of their skin.

"You said now wasn't the right time." She says quietly, so quietly that he barely hears it; it's almost lost in the space between them.

"Livvie…"

She looks up at him, the familiar hurt in his eyes, the one that breaks his heart. "You said now wasn't the right time. You didn't want to, and that's fine. I mean it is fine." She's talking at warp speed, breathing clearly a bonus, not a necessity. "I mean I get it, I do. I pushed you away, and you thought Stephen and I, and it's fine. But you said no, and now, now you're looking at me like that, and you're towering over me like a freaking skyscraper; and there's no space; you're everywhere. And I like that, I like that you're around, but it's making it really difficult to not think about you the way I want to think about you, because you're funny, and charming, and hot, you're hot; I mean… and you're smiling… Why are you smiling?" She finishes, and then inhales, suddenly aware that she's ran out of breath right between towering and skyscraper. And she's blushing and blinking furiously.

"I just… you're adorable." And she exhales sharply, turning away, but he grabs her hand. "Liv."

"No, that's great. I am apparently having a meltdown. I mean… I don't even… I don't say these things. I don't… and I don't feel these things. I don't know how to, I just. And I tell you all of that, and all you've got is adorable? I get it, OK? You said it wasn't the right time, because you didn't want to hurt my feelings; and that's sweet. But it's fine. I get it. I should… I should go." And she tries to move away, to get her arm out of his grip, but he only tightens it and pulls her in; flush against his body.

"Now. Listen. To. Me." And she opens her mouth to speak, but he just puts her index finger on her lips. "I said it wasn't right, because we were both exhausted and emotional, and it wouldn't have been about us. It would have been rushed and frantic and that… we're more than a quick lay. And what the hell is wrong with you so that you can't see that I'm crazy about you, that you can't hear me when I say it?

"You have two speeds Olivia. Literally, it's like a switch. And either you're in, and I mean all in; or you're all out. Either it's having sex in bathrooms and on-call rooms, or it's cold shoulder and nothing. Life isn't just two speeds! I. Do. Not. Want. To. Rush. This-"

"I don't rush things." She says indignantly.

"Oh, really? Tell me the last time, you didn't rush something?"

And she shoots him a frustrated look, as she bites her lip. "I… my molars were really late to grow."

"Mhmmmm." He whispers as he lowers his head, until his lips are hovering above hers. "You need to slow down. We need to do this right. Because we've already managed to fuck it up an inordinate number of times. Fucking up seems to be the only thing we can both do right. So, no, we're not rushing, we're taking our time. Which means dates, and slow kisses, and watching old movies and walking in rain. OK?" And her hand travels up his chest, until she's playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and then she's propping herself on her toes and kissing him. And it's tender, and sweet; their noses touching, barely, as their lips move perfectly in sync. And his tongue plays with her top lip, and she smiles against his, then opens her mouth slowly. And he teases her, and she moans in his mouth, as she pulls his head even closer. They chuckle, the soft vibrations filling them up.

And she steps away, breathlessly; constellations in her eyes, "I can do slow. With you, I can do slow. We'll do slow." And she takes his hand, their fingers interlaced, as she leads him down the hallway, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Like a skyscraper?"

"Shut up."

Now, this was part one. I'll try to update pt.2 tomorrow, because I'm away for the week after Monday, without internet.

Let me know what you thought - about Liv's little speech, and Ftiz calling her out on her two speeds. I LOVELOVELOVE reading your comments. Seriously, they make me so happy and excited to be writing, so thank you so much. Honestly, you're amazing. And thank you for reading :)