Once she was gone, Fitz steeled himself to do the rest of his job; there were others that Fitz knew that he would be expected to speak to. For a moment, he heard Olivia in his head, reminding him of who else he should speak with before the evening was done.
That brought a brief smile to Fitz's face. Whatever he'd said about him not wanting her to focus on anything resembling on working tonight, Fitz knew that once she would be waiting for him, probably with pen and pad in hand, expecting a full breakdown on what she'd missed this evening.
It would be too unlike her- too unlike them - to not analyze the evening's events. This was normal, and normal was what Olivia needed more than anything else. Fitz knew how her mind worked and it would help ground her like nothing else could. and anything Olivia needed was a priority with him.
Fitz glanced at his watch and made a few decisions - he figured he had maybe an hour left in him before his patience ran dry, so he spent that time doing what he had to do, talking with donors and deal-makers, using the time to gauge the mood and viewpoints of not only his supporters but even a few key representatives of Elizabeth's guest-list.
She was going to be trouble; every instinct in him told him so. Olivia wasn't the only one who had learned to trust her gut.
Finally, time was up. Fitz went looking for Cyrus and as expected, he found him in the center of a group of on-the-fence donors, happily wrangling them into submission. All it took was one glance from Fitz and Cyrus excused himself from the group and came to him.
"Mr. President?" he asked.
"I'm done, Cyrus." Fitz had no doubt that Cyrus knew that before he spoke a single word. "I've done my duty to the Country, the Party and my presidency and as of this minute - I. Am. Done."
Happily, Cyrus didn't disagree. "To be honest sir, I'm surprised - and very grateful - that you managed to last this long."
"Do I get a cookie?"
"Nobody likes a smart-ass, sir." Cyrus said."I can handle the rest of the evening, but I do have one final request."
"And that is?"
Cyrus knew he was pushing Fitz's boundaries, but wasn't that a part of his job? "Let's mind our table manners and at least say goodnight to our co-hostess, shall we?"
"As long as we can be done in sixty seconds or less." Fitz's expression showed that he knew that Cyrus was right but he still didn't have to like it.
Cyrus sighed but had the good sense not to argue with him. They'd find Elizabeth, Fitz would offer his good-nights - Elizabeth would accept them and then the president could make his escape.
"Not that I particularly care, but you should know that Elizabeth may not be overly pleased with me at the moment." Fitz gave Cyrus a quick briefing about the details of the encounter between her and Olivia.
That didn't surprise Cyrus at all. "As long as there was no overt carpet-bombing, pyrotechnic or any other incendiary devices deployed, I think that we can still count tonight as a win."
If he'd had any sense, Cyrus wouldn't have wanted to imagine what the two women had said to one another. Then again, a clearly psychotic part of his brain did want to know what had happened when two powerful, dynamic women had gone toe to toe in a basically public, political venue.
The devil that was ever-perched on his shoulder chuckled to himself, wishing he'd been a fly on the wall for that conversation. In response, Cyrus felt his lips twitch in a reluctant smile. What was wrong with him?
The two of them found Elizabeth soon enough, holding court over her own circle of political sycophants. Cyrus stood back, carefully hiding his concern as Fitz offered his good-nights to Elizabeth, hoping that no one else caught the lack of either care or sincerity in Fitz's words - or the subtle chill in Elizabeth's response. It left him not looking forward to their next conversation.
Good manners managed to be preserved on both sides and after a few minutes, he and Fitz were walking away. "I'll stay and help the party wind down, check everyone's ego at the door and give you an update tomorrow." Cyrus said as he walked with him towards the doors.
"Make it later in the day, Cy." Fitz told him. "I'm planning on sleeping in. And short of World War III breaking out, I don't want to be disturbed."
Well, Cyrus thought - along with Olivia's unexpected brief appearance and exit - that made it clear about where Fitz's head had been for the latter part of the evening. He also knew better than to ask for clarification. If there was anything else going on, he could only hope that one of them would clue him in on it soon.
He couldn't resist leaving Fitz without a final parting shot. "Enjoy your cookie, Mr. President."
"I intend to, Cy - down to the last crumb." Fitz said, just before he exited the room.
Still amused by the memory of Cyrus' expression after their last exchange, Fitz was smiling in anticipation as he practically bounced up the stairs of Marine One, the engines already roaring to life. Stepping into the cabin, Fitz came to a complete stop as he saw Olivia, waiting for him.
Her face lit up. "Surprise."
"Livvie…" Fitz couldn't stop smiling; it spread to an open grin as he noted the bottle of Glenlivet scotch waiting for him with two glasses - along with a pen and pad on the small table bolted to the table before her. He'd expected no less.
"Surprise." He said, even as their eyes locked - loving and beloved.
As he took a seat opposite her, Olivia poured him a drink, his fingers brushing warm and lingering against hers as she handed him his glass.
She poured one for herself, then raised her glass to him. Fitz touched his glass to hers and they smiled at one another again as the chime of crystal danced in the air between them.
Fitz sipped at his drink, the combination of Olivia's smile and the smooth warmth of the scotch flowing through him washed most of the sour taste of the evening away.
They both sat back in a contented quiet as the the pre-flight check announcement played out and then they were in the air for the thirty something minute flight to Camp David while the crew and stewards made themselves scarce by removing themselves from the main cabin, leaving them alone.
The way Fitz was looking at Olivia, she had an idea of what he was thinking. "All right, Fitz, say it already."
He smiled at her again, but now there was a gentle reprimand in his words. "You weren't supposed to be here tonight."
She knew that she'd broken their agreement - even if it had been for all the best reasons.
Fitz continued. "As much as I enjoyed and appreciated your little surprise appearance tonight, I thought we'd both agreed that you were supposed to be up at Camp David and getting some very much needed down time."
"I did." Olivia pointed out. She tried to shrug it off; Olivia didn't know if she was quite ready to deal with the reasons why Fitz had sent her up here to begin with. "I just had what I thought was a better idea."
Fitz wanted to find an argument to that, but in the moment, he couldn't find one. Instead, he set his glass down and reached out, taking her hand in his. "You were supposed to be at Camp David. You were supposed to be taking care of yourself."
"That goes both ways, Fitz. If you get to take care of me, then I get to take care of you."
"Livvie, it's a little more complicated that that right now - and you know it."
"Is it?" Despite her quick answer, Olivia knew what Fitz was and was not saying, and more importantly why he wasn't saying it.
There were no words that needed to be spoken between them, but she could feel the rush of protectiveness that rushed from him to her. It made her feel so safe, so warm that the unexpected rush of emotion that followed threatened to overwhelm her. It reminds Olivia of why she loves him so much and how she doesn't even know why he loves her the way that he does - and for once that doesn't matter either.
Fitz watched the emotions that chased their way across Olivia's face. He had no argument that he wanted to bring up right now; all Fitz wanted right now was to hold her hand just a little bit tighter.
She looked into his eyes just then and what she saw was enough to push Olivia to back down just a little bit and make an admission. "I know what you're saying and why you're saying it - but I'm all right, Fitz."
She couldn't help the errant thought that flashed through her - who was she trying to convince more - Fitz or herself?
Was she all right? He wanted to believe her, but at the same time, Fitz felt all kinds of conflicted; Fitz didn't want to not believe Olivia, but at the same time he remembered what he'd seen when he'd found her in his bedroom. No matter what she said, Fitz couldn't help the protectiveness that rose up in him. The way their eyes locked, the way her fingers tightened on his told him that she was feeling very much the same.
It was her truth to reveal, Fitz reminded himself. Hers - not his, as much as he might want or need it and he needed to wait until she was ready to share it.
Without actually admitting the memories that lay under everything they were feeling, they instinctively backed away from what could have become an obstacle tonight, choosing instead to let their conversation fall into its usual path, that familiar back and forth that was half banter and half questioning, the give and take so familiar, so right that it carried them with grateful ease through the rest of the flight, pausing only for the helicopter's landing and then the brief drive to the presidential cabin.
Fitz opened the door and allowed her to proceed ahead of him; as soon as he shut it behind them, he reached for Olivia. He leaned back against the door, taking her with him so that Olivia was resting against him, her back to his front. Fitz took her bag and tossed it aside before wrapping his arms around her. They both relaxed into the embrace and then the silence that surrounded them.
After a long moment, it was Fitz that spoke first, his voice deliberately quiet. "I don't want you to think that I'm angry at you."
"Are you sure you're not?" Olivia asked as she closed her eyes.
"I'm sure." Fitz said. "I loved seeing you appearing like Cinderella at the ball - but this is much nicer."
"It is." Olivia agreed as she lifted one hand to cup his jaw.
Her touch drew him closer and Fitz couldn't resist the impulse to lean closer and brush his lips against her cheek. In his mind, all he'd wanted when he'd closed the door behind them, was that they had also closed the door on the more unpleasant aspects of the night behind them as well. Fitz tried to concentrate on the fact that they were here, alone - and he was determined to be whatever Olivia needed him to be in the here and now.
That made him tighten his arms around her, to close his eyes and breathe Olivia in, hoping that she can feel the love and comfort that he was offering. But then once again, Fitz remembers the night before and the one who shivers is him.