I'm back with a new concept for an Olitz story. Hope you like. Please leave a review :)
"...So we can end there today, guys." Olivia Pope watched from the front of the auditorium as the students immediately began to shove their belongings into their bags and stand up. "But don't forget, we have three more lectures on the mechanisms of cancer before you start your new neuro unit."
There was a chorus of Yeahs and Thank yous, and the class slowly filtered out of the door. Liv turned to pick up her own bag and saw a text from Abby Whelan, who worked for the Chemistry faculty. Since they were both technically under the umbrella of Life Sciences, Abby knew everything about everyone's lives and loved to update Liv, no matter what time of day it was.
She'd planned to meet Abby for coffee after the lecture anyway, so was surprised to see the notification.
Did you know the Neuro guy starts today? Or at least, he's moving his stuff into his office right now.
She frowned.
What? I thought I had another week to prepare! I'm supposed to be updating him on everything! I don't even know who he is
She walked out of the lecture theatre to find Abby speed-walking towards her down the corridor. "Coffee, now."
Liv let Abby drag her in the direction of the exit, in search of the nearest Starbucks across the street. "I'll need caffeine if I have to research this guy before I meet him – ugh, if I didn't have to mark the midterms I would've had chance to do it already–"
"Liv, from what I saw, he's crazy attractive."
She laughed. She couldn't help it. "Come on, Abby. All the Dean told me is that he's one of the best neuroscientists in the country right now. Which means he's surely experienced and, you know… old."
Abby shook her head fervently. "Believe me, Olivia. I only caught a glimpse of him, but that man is a hunk. He can't be much older than us." She paused to open the door to the coffee shop. "And anyway, what does age have to do with reputation? You're one of the most sought-after geneticists and you're definitely not old."
Liv rolled her eyes. "I don't count, I'm here on an assistant professor tenure as a favour to Cyrus."
After her research paper was published in one of the biggest scientific journals, her ex-mentor Cyrus Beene asked if she'd be interested in being a guest lecturer at Stanford for the PhD students. She'd been here for five months and was loving it so far.
"Even that's impressive when you're thirty-two."
"Stop flattering me, Abs, you're equally as impressive. You're basically on a full tenure."
"Oh, stop it. Who knows if it's going to be me getting that promotion." She turned to the barista behind the counter. "Can I get a latte to go, please? Double shot? Thanks."
Liv stood behind her, still thinking about the new guest lecturer. He'd obviously had the same kind of opportunity as her, but it sounded like he was a pretty big deal. "I just wasn't expecting him to be younger than fifty, that's all."
"I think he looks under forty. But he could just look young for his age."
"Hmm."
Olivia ordered her coffee and she and Abby took them outside to sit on one of the benches.
"So, tell me some useful information about him."
Abby glared at her. "Why are you so obsessed with the neuro guy!"
"I'm not obsessed. I'm worried. I'm supposed to be someone he can relate to, and I don't even know his name. I haven't had time to check my emails lately."
Abby spent a few seconds scrolling on her phone, before finally finding what she wanted.
"Oh, here. Celebrated neuroscientist Fitzgerald Grant to join Faculty of Science on a casual basis–"
Olivia nearly spat out her coffee. "What did you just say?"
"Fitzgerald Grant. I think his door says Fitz." Abby paused, taking in the expression on Liv's face. "What? You look like you've just seen a ghost, what's the matter with you?"
It threw Liv straight back to twelve years ago, when she was an undergraduate in her second year. She was in a lab practical at Princeton, overseen by Professor Langston and her PhD students. She couldn't remember exactly what they were doing – culturing mammalian cells, maybe? – all she could remember was the presence of him, standing there in his blue lab coat with a cocky smirk and telling her exactly what she was doing wrong.
TWELVE YEARS EARLIER
"Please tell me you have a lighter touch than that."
She was trying to pick up a glass slide with tweezers, and the sound of a deep voice rumbling next to her shoulder made her jump, almost dropping the glass in the process.
Her lab partner, Stephen, glanced at her worriedly.
She deftly placed the slide into the solution without a problem, and then stood up straight and turned to see who'd been talking to her.
It was one of Langston's PhD students. She'd seen him before around campus, but he'd never helped out in the undergrad labs before – at least, not the ones she'd been in. He was tall, definitely over six foot, with chestnut-brown hair and unfairly light eyes. And right now, he was looking at her with a knowing smirk, as though he thought she was stupid. If there was one thing Olivia Pope hated, it was being patronised.
"I think I coped just fine."
His eyes flickered with a hint of surprise, but his facial expression didn't waver from unimpressed.
"Tell me what you're expecting to see when you get the fluorescence images back from this practical."
Stephen began to speak. "The drug will disrupt the cellular–"
"I was asking her." He interrupted in a clipped tone.
Liv fought the urge to roll her eyes. He had a name tag clipped to his lab coat, like all the other PhD supervisors – a laminated piece of paper with his name scruffily written in marker pen. Fitz.
"We're expecting to see the cells become more disrupted by the drug," she said, her eyes not leaving his. He was challenging her to break eye contact first. He wanted her to be intimidated, and she wasn't having it. "We're going to see the cytoskeleton become more deformed – and because it's stained green, we'll see the green colour become less condensed."
Fitz's lips twitched. "Alright. That's enough interrogation for today. Carry on."
He continued to the next bench, his shoulder briefly brushing against hers as he walked past. She let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding in.
Right as he passed her, she found herself thinking god, he smells good, and immediately kicked herself for it. No matter how good he smelled or looked, he was an ass.
"Ready to do the next?" Stephen's voice catapulted her back to reality.
"Oh– yeah, of course."
She picked the tweezers back up and pretended that she wasn't hyper-aware of Fitz standing three feet away.
Since that day, he seemed to appear in most of the second years' labs, usually commenting on her lack of ability and then quizzing her on whatever he possibly could, like some sort of game. Olivia assumed he had some work to make up for, since PhD students were supposed to lend a helping hand quite often. She had no idea what he was specialising in, nor how far into his PhD he actually was – if she had to guess, she'd say he was probably mid-twenties. (As it turned out, she was right. She stalked his LinkedIn and discovered he was twenty-six, undertaking a PhD in neuroscience.)
Fitz completed his PhD as Olivia went into her third year, and she never saw him again. Every now and then she wondered if he'd been successful in the field, but she never thought to search him up. She graduated with a First Class Honours and went straight into work as a research assistant for the company she'd done a placement year with; and she got far too busy to be worrying about frustrating men like Fitzgerald Grant.
PRESENT DAY
"We… We went to college together."
Abby's eyes widened. "Seriously? I thought he went to Yale. At least, that's what Cyrus said."
"He did his PhD in Neuroscience at Princeton. He was there while I was an undergrad."
"Seriously?" Abby couldn't help but laugh, only stopping when she saw how worried Liv looked. "Come on, Liv, you've got to admit it's a funny coincidence."
"He hated me. He picked on me in every lab session in my second year, it–" Liv's cheeks burned as she stared down at her coffee. "It was embarrassing. It was like he was waiting for me to get an answer wrong whenever he interrogated me, just so he could get a laugh out of it."
"Aw, I'm sure he's not that bad. Maybe he's grown up."
"I mean, if he's one of the best young neuroscientists in the country, I guess I'm going to have to suck it up and work with him. I want to be on his good side. He probably has friends very high up."
"That's the spirit." Abby checked her watch. "Were you planning on going to introduce yourself? If you have another lecture at twelve, you might want to head there now and see if he's still in his office."
Liv groaned. Abby was right, but she really didn't want to go and face Fitz Grant for the first time in twelve years.
"Go," Abby grinned, seeing her face.
"I'm going." She drained the last of her coffee and stood up. "Are you coming back in?"
"I'm meeting David."
David was Abby's long-term boyfriend, who she'd met in college while he was still a law student. Now he was a flourishing lawyer, and always tried to take her out to lunch once a week whenever their schedules lined up.
"Fuck," Liv sighed. "Well, enjoy. I'm sure I won't enjoy this conversation I'm about to have."
She turned to walk away, and after a few steps, she heard Abby yell. "Liv, wait! I didn't tell you where his office is."
Liv turned. "Which is it?"
Abby grinned. "Next door to yours."
The office next to hers had been empty ever since Rashid, the go-to structural protein nerd, had moved out to pursue a research position at an institute in Switzerland a month ago. She was happy for him, but she'd missed having him next door – there were times when she'd been working past eleven p.m. and Rashid had appeared in the doorway with a mug of coffee and a sympathetic smile.
"Promise not to forget about me when you win a Nobel Prize," she'd joked to him while helping him move his stuff out of his desk.
He'd laughed. "I could say the same to you."
Rashid was fifty-six, a very popular lecturer in the department. His family were apparently excited to be moving to a new place, and so was he, but he told her he'd miss being at Stanford (he'd been teaching there for eleven years). She'd been wondering when his office would be filled by somebody completely new.
She never in her wildest dreams imagined that Fitz Grant would be the one taking Rashid's place.
As she walked down the hallway closer to her office, she felt her chest tighten. She was inexplicably nervous. She was curious as to whether this man – who was only six years older than her, but always acted like he was miles above her in both intelligence and maturity – had changed somewhat over the past twelve years.
She finally reached his door.
F. Grant, the door plaque read.
Tentatively, she reached up and knocked.
"Come in," a familiar low voice called.
She took a deep breath and opened the door, and felt a tiny pang of satisfaction when his jaw dropped at the sight of her.
"Hi," she said, instantly hating how weak her voice sounded. She walked towards the desk. "Good afternoon, Professor Grant. I'm Olivia–"
"Olivia Pope, I know," he interrupted quietly, standing up and taking her hand to shake it. The brief contact between their hands sent an electrical current straight through her, making her feel light-headed. He remembered her. She wasn't expecting him to remember her. After all, she was just one undergrad out of a hundred in the class. "Langston's lab, year two. Right?"
"Right," she echoed, feeling unsteady on her feet.
He had changed physically, a little. It was warm in the office, so he'd taken his jacket off and was just wearing a shirt and dress pants; she could see the firm outlines of muscle underneath his shirt, just as defined as they were back at Princeton whenever she saw him walking around campus. He definitely still worked out.
And his eyes were just as bright, his hair just as curly. For a thirty-eight year old, he looked as young as he did during his PhD.
"You were eager," he smirked, coming around the desk to join her. "You didn't back down from my questioning. Ever."
"I wasn't going to give you the satisfaction," she fired back. "You only ever interrogated me, and it– it…"
"Pissed you off?" He saw her nod, and couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry. I got a kick out of it."
"I could tell."
"Mm." He allowed himself to look at her properly for the first time, drinking her in from head to toe. Even back in college, when he'd first seen her in the lab, she'd knocked the breath right out of him. Firstly, she was beautiful – but after that first conversation, when she'd refused to let him walk over her, he was hooked. She was smart, confident, and carried herself so well…
He wasn't supposed to be on Langston's lab team. Her usual student, Laura, had fallen ill with food poisoning, and Fitz had offered to step in for one time only. But then he kept offering, and Langston wasn't going to say no to some extra hands on deck.
He couldn't comprehend why he kept offering to help in the second year labs. Most of them were useless. They were dull and the students couldn't be bothered to be there – at least, most of them couldn't. He'd be lying if he said he didn't look forward to arguing with Olivia Pope once a week.
And now, she was here. At Stanford, standing in front of him looking like a goddess, and Fitz had no clue what to say or do.
"So, neuroscience," Olivia said, sounding shyer than he was used to.
His eyes instantly lit up. "Yeah, I've always loved it. What final year units did you end up taking?"
She frowned in thought for a second, and it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.
"Genetics, cancer biology…" She smiled wryly. "And neuro. Thought I'd see what all the fuss was about."
He clutched his chest. "I was an inspiration."
"Obviously not a good one, because I ended up choosing to take genetics further."
He was still looking at her, as though he was seeing her for the first time. It made her blush.
"I know," he murmured. "I read your paper in Nature a couple of years ago. Pretty interesting stuff."
"You did?" She lifted her eyes to his, and they stood in silence for a few seconds, just holding each other's gaze. Something tangible was crackling in the air between them, and neither of them dared to move nor speak, scared to break the spell.
Suddenly, a loud voice shattered the silence.
"Professor Grant!"
They both sprang a little further apart, flushing. Olivia hadn't realised how close they'd been standing until Cyrus had interrupted.
"Great to see you again, Professor–"
"Oh, please. It's Cyrus."
"Alright then, Cyrus." Fitz smiled, shaking his hand. "Please, call me Fitz."
Cyrus nodded, then gestured toward Olivia. "I see you've met Olivia. She's a guest lecturer too, been here for nearly six months. One of the most talented scientists I've met, as I'm sure you already know from reading her work."
"I do." He hadn't taken his eyes off her.
"You don't need to flatter me, Cyrus," she laughed, desperately trying to slow her heart rate. "Professor Grant is a talented scientist in his own right."
"Exactly," Cyrus beamed. "Which is why it's so brilliant to have the both of you working together in this department."
Olivia nodded shakily. She didn't know how to feel about working with him in such close proximity. Especially not when his office was right next door to hers.
She forced a smile. "Well, it was great to… meet you, Professor Grant. Let me know if you need anything."
"I appreciate that," he replied. "And it's Fitz, please. Call me Fitz."
God. She didn't know if a first-name basis was a great idea. Professor Grant, she could keep at arm's length. Professor Grant was a world-class neuroscientist, but Fitz was the unfairly handsome man she'd met back at Princeton who consistently got on her nerves and challenged her at every opportunity.
She turned on her way out of the door. "Let me know if you have any questions at any point." She swallowed. "Fitz."
She saw the small quirk of his lips at the sound of her saying his name, and knew right then that she was royally fucked.