Picking
Fitz loved being outside. He always had. Nature had always made him feel at ease. For a rich boy who had grown up in California, he had taken incredibly well to the countryside of Vermont. It was no Santa Barbara, that was for sure. He had traded palm tree and sand for the orchard and brisk sunrises. But he loved it. He loved the cool, refreshing air and the gorgeous colors of the leaves that had changed with the season. It was tranquil. The hustle and bustle that had once been his life in the White House seemed another world away when compared to the slow, calm way of living that he had adjusted to.
That they had adjusted to.
He and Olivia.
It was Saturday morning and they were making their way through a section of the orchard. They had hired a small staff to handle the thirty acres of fruit-bearing trees most of the time. With Fitz still flying out now and then to endorse someone or give a speech and Olivia still managing OPA from a distance, they didn't have every moment to devote to caring for the property. However, it was peak apple season, and Fitz wanted to enjoy it. With his family. Karen was off at school or she would have been there. She had chosen Yale and was doing well. Certainly living up to the Grant name. Teddy was perched high on Fitz's shoulders, reaching for an apple that he just had to have. The red delicious gleaming in the morning light was just too much for him to resist.
"Daddy, I can't reach it!"
Fitz tugged the giggling boy from his shoulders and hoisted him up high, allowing him to pluck a few of the choicer ripe ones. As they were dropped down into the large basket on the ground, one slipped and knocked Fitz in the nose firmly, causing him to let out a guttural grunt, which only intensified Teddy's laughter.
"C'mere, you little monster…"
Olivia heard the ruckus three rows over and smirked to herself as she followed the direction of the sound. Her boys. Always getting into something. She thrived on their silliness. Their laughter gave her life, and she knew that she had made the right choice. Her life with Fitz in Vermont was all she had ever dreamed of. Their happiness in the little moments was what she treasured. Tucking Teddy in at night. Brushing their teeth together in the mornings. Snuggling on the couch together in front of the fireplace. They had earned it. Every moment they had earned.
They were on the ground when she found them, in the clear path between the rows of trees, Fitz tickling Teddy and both of them laughing heartily. In their own little world. She simply watched for a moment. Fitz was on his back with Teddy wiggling wildly in his arms, trying to get away as his father drew fits of giggles from his little body.
"Can you two do anything without getting dirty?" she asked with amusement, any annoyance was only half-hearted.
Teddy jumped up at her words, finally escaping his Fitz's 'torture.' He scampered over to Olivia and hid behind her leg, peaking out at his father. Both of them still had that playful glint in their eyes.
"We filled up the basket!" he said excitedly, pointing to the basket that was full of the apples they had picked.
"Good! Now we can bake some pies," she told him as she smoothed his mussed hair down, the gesture nothing short of motherly.
"Come and help me up. I'm old and injured," Fitz called out dramatically, grinning as his son came over and tried, unsuccessfully, to tug him up from where he was on the grass.
"Here, let me help. Daddy's heavy, and a big baby," Olivia said with a smirk, walking over and offering Fitz her hand to help him up.
With Olivia's assistance, Fitz pushed against the cold ground and hoisted himself up into a standing position. Her hands brushed the dirt and debris off of his navy blue sweater. His cheeks were flushed from both the morning chill and the laughter and efforts of playing with his son. The son that was chasing their dog, Henry, down the orchard row, headed back towards the house.
"You said injured, what happened?" Olivia asked him, concern momentarily showing on her face.
"He dropped an apple on my face," he told her, his expression serious for only a fraction of a second before he chuckled again.
She swatted at him playfully and leaned in for a kiss, which he eagerly met. Their noses bumped, as they often did, and he winced and murmured in discomfort, drawing back slightly. He pouted.
"Maybe if your honker wasn't so big, it wouldn't get in the way of things….like apples…and kisses," she teased, her grin playful and wide as she pulled him down for another, more careful, kiss.
"How can you be cute and rude at the same time?" he mused, smirking against her lips.
"I'm the formidable Olivia Pope," she quipped, taking his hand in hers and walking them over to the full bushel basket of apples.
"Pope-Grant," he corrected pointedly, picking up the basket.