Craving 2.0
It was late. 3:12 AM by the blue numbers on the bedside clock. Fitz was sleeping peacefully, and barely stirred as Olivia slipped from his embrace. She teetered quietly from the bedroom and down the staircase, making her way to the kitchen. It wasn't the first time she had woken up in the middle of the night with an odd yearning that made her stomach rumble.
She shivered as the cool air hit the bare skin of her legs. The fire that had roared in the fireplace hours before had been put out before they had gone to bed. She flipped on the lightswitch, a soft light filling the kitchen and allowing her a better view. The room was chilled, yes, but it didn't stop her desire to raid the fridge. Still, she should have swiped a pair of Fitz's sweatpants to join the t-shirt of his that fell to halfway down her thigh.
Fitz had piles of t-shirts. All of his home state sports represented. His battered white Dodgers one from his days as governor, soft and worn in. His blue LA Clippers shirt that he wore when he watched every game he could catch on TV. The new navy and yellow Chargers shirt they had purchased when they had gotten box seats at a game the year before. And his faded black Kings long-sleeved shirt, worn proudly despite hockey being seemingly the least popular of professional sports in California. A few band shirts were jumbled in his collection as well. ACDC, Bon Jovi, Guns N' Roses. Mostly old-school rock, though his music taste was incredibly eclectic (Anywhere from Joplin to Jay-Z, truthfully). All of which she had, at one point or another, taken from his side of the closet and worn for comfort.
But his Navy shirt was the one she had on, and it was by far her favorite. It was the softest and long enough for her to wear with nothing else as she padded around the house during her late night kitchen excursions.
For a man who had spent a huge part of his life stuck in a suit and tie, he had plenty of casual wear. Even though the sight of him in his trademark navy suit made her weak in the knees, Olivia loved Fitz dressed down. A tee and boxers. A sweater and dark wash jeans. Or nothing. Fitz wearing nothing at all was her favorite. Which was partly to blame for the reason she was in the kitchen in the first place.
She had read and heard stories about outlandish pregnancy cravings and laughed at them. That was until she had experience them herself. Her current pairing of choice was chocolate ice cream and Kalamata olives. The week before, it had been strawberry yogurt and Cheetos. Luckily for her, Fitz had a habit of keeping an impressive and varied stockpile of junk food around for his own purposes, which gave her plenty of disgusting potential combinations to keep her satisfied. For that, she was thankful.
Her spoon alternated from dipping into the pint of rich ice cream and the jar of olives. She leaned against the counter sideways, the swell of her belly not allowing her to face it and be close enough…
He had woken up and reached for her, finding the barely-still-warm spot in bed next to him empty. Fitz pulled on a pair of navy and white plaid flannel pajama pants and sleepily ventured downstairs. If she had been in the bathroom, he would have heard her. Downstairs, surely. Another craving. They had gotten more frequent and weirder as her pregnancy progressed. It amused him to no end. Many men would be annoyed by such things, but Olivia did it all so adorably that Fitz rarely felt anything but affection towards her.
To him, she had never been more beautiful than she was then. Right there where she was propped up against the counter, spooning ice cream into her mouth. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, exposing the column of her neck to the light and his eyes. Fitz had seen her wearing various items of his clothing dozens of times, but he never got over it. There was something so loving and sexy about it. The fact that she was comfortable and comforted by wearing his things. He hoped she never stopped doing it.
"Still olives and ice cream?" he asked, his grin lighting up his tired eyes as he observed her current eating habits. "That's gross, baby," he chuckled.
She nodded with the tiniest smile, offering him a spoonful of the ice cream, which he took. He stood in front of her, mirroring her lean against the counter, his weight on his forearm and his free hand placed over her stomach.
"Did I wake you?" A guilty pout shaped her mouth.
"The bed got cold without you," he told her sweetly, giving her a soft kiss.
It was true though. Olivia put off heat like a furnace when they were cuddled up in bed. It was why Fitz often slept naked, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to hold her like he wanted to. He had been thankful when the seasons had changed and the weather had grown colder. It gave him more of an incentive to wrap his arms around her in the night. As if he needed another reason. She kept him warm, in more ways than one.
"Sorry," she murmured sheepishly, popping an olive into her waiting mouth.
"Don't be. When you're in labor, I'm sure you'll be more than willing to remind me that *I* did this to you," he teased, leaning in to kiss her again.
When his lips found hers, the starkly different salty taste of the olives compared to the ice cream he had tasted made him wince slightly, curling up his lip playfully.
"More ice cream," he insisted, swiping her spoon and taking a big scoop of the dessert for himself.
She grinned at his antics and accepted the spoonful of that he offered her. Olivia's hand went to her stomach, her grin widening as she felt their baby moving.
"Your son is wiggling around in there," she told Fitz, taking his hand and moving it to where she felt the movement.
"See? He likes ice cream too."
Fitz leaned in, kissing her deeper than before. The feel of their child fluttering in her stomach made his heart swell. The child that their love had made. Their love that had thrived despite all of the opposition against them. Olivia hummed into the kiss in contentment, her snacks forgotten.
"Come on, Livvie. Let's go back to bed," he murmured, yawning as he put the food away for her and dropped the spoon into the sink.
They returned to their bedroom and got settled, Fitz shedding his pants and Olivia shifting restlessly for a moment until she found a comfortable position that accommodated both her and her swollen stomach. Fitz settled in behind her, his body molding to hers effortlessly, his face nuzzling her neck.
"I love you," she breathed.
"I love you too."