Author's note: I truly appreciate all of your kind reviews and words as you entertain my random musings. Seriously, I'm really trying to get back into the hang of writing my other stories. Hopefully, that will happen soon enough. In the meantime, allow me to be melancholy while I cannot sleep. I'm sorry for the sad, angsty stories these days but like that is the only thing my brain wants to write. HA! Anyways, enjoy this little Drabble and it would be nice if you reviewed as well :) Thank you!


Room 212

Summary: Familiar actions between Olivia and Fitz.


She took her time getting dressed. First, she spent half an hour scrubbing and primping her skin until it was clean and moisturized, silky to the touch. Second, she combed out the long tresses of her Brazilian waves till it fell around her shoulders in a halo of ebony silk. Third, she skillfully applied her makeup until it was flawlessly enhancing her natural beauty. Fourth, she slipped on the carefully picked out set of maroon La Perla bra and panty set. Fifth, deliberate dabs of her Coco Chanel perfume was placed on her pulse points. Sixth, the fuchsia seamed pencil dress, fabric hugging her curves like an extra layer of skin, covered her undress. Lastly, she looked herself over in the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. She was ready.

The drive was so well-known to her now. The turns, the landmarks and even the lone pothole in the left lane on one of the streets that she always had to skillfully navigate around since the city wasn't keen on fixing it, had become memorable. Every Wednesday and Friday it was her drive to make. She arrived at the same familiar hotel and handed over the keys to her Mercedes Benz to the valet attendant before entering into the establishment. As per usual she didn't have to go to the front desk because her room was always ready. Room 212. Same room every Wednesday and Friday.

Now on the elevator, she gave herself a once over in the mirror that was on the back wall. From the outside she looked so put together and immaculate but on the inside it was as though a tsunami had passed through, leaving wreckage and havoc in its wake. What she did know was that after tonight that wreckage would only intensify. She couldn't continue to live like this even as much as she wanted to. Craved to. Something had to give or else she was going to lose her mind. Shaking those cumbersome thoughts from her psych she focused on what lay behind the walls of the elevator. And to her that was happiness, her small ray of sunshine in her somewhat stormy and lonely world.

She only had to wait a few seconds for the door to be opened after giving room 212 a short knock. He opened the door with a radiant smile, which warmed her belly and traveled up to her heart, making her tingle with happiness. He kissed her hello and she allowed herself to sink into his embrace. It'd been too long since they were like this and she had missed him. She always missed him when they weren't together. He ended their embrace much too soon but she smiled when he opened the door wider for her to enter. His salacious grin coupled with his downright scandalous compliment of her outfit made her laugh and blush, feeling proud of her selection. He knew just what to say to make her forget. Make her feel like she was the only woman in the world – in his world.

As customary, a small feast was laid out on the dining table in the dining area of their suite with whatever food she'd felt like eating. He'd make sure to have it prepared no matter the cost. That wasn't an issue. Never was. They sat and ate to their heart's contentment, flirted and had caught up each other on things they had missed while cautiously avoiding certain topics and people.

By now the dance was a learned composition that both of them knew well. Too well… After all, a year of perfect repetition would seal it into your memory. After dinner the conversation would move to the living room, each holding their choice of alcoholic beverage, while they got comfortable in front of the television, where they would argue over what they were going to watch on pay-per-view. It was a moment of normalcy that they both cherished and craved but undoubtedly, most times would have to do with out. This time she won and made him watch a sad movie of a woman who had fallen in love with a quadriplegic. It was a great movie even though the ending was depressing. He teased her for trying to make him cry and firmly avowed that next time he was most certainly picking out the movie. She smiled at how confident he was that there was going to be a next time. If only the next time could be forever and always.

Like every other time, the night ended with them making sweet love on the sheets that were laundered within an inch of its life. This was her favorite part, not because of the obvious, but because her mind was shut off and she could just be inside of the arms of the man she adored and cared for. When his body touched and grounded against hers the euphoria she experienced was cathartic to her body and soul. She felt renewed and refreshed.

But the tan line on his left ring finger reminded her of the ring that was present when she was not there. She was in love with a married man. Their time was limited to stolen moments and empty promises she long since stopped believing in.

Maybe this time would be the last time she went to room 212. Or, maybe not…