A/N: I don't normally write about Olitz in Vermont because Shonda has made me feel some type of way about what will happen when they get there IF they ever get there. This isn't the place to discuss my issues with Shonda though, so I digress. Anyway, this is just a little drabble because I've been watching a lot of Olitz scenes and I got all in my feels. I'm probably not going to continue this, but I'd love to know what you guys think anyway! XOXO

Olivia stared at her half-asleep baby girl with an exhausted frown. The two-week-old infant, Isabelle, was refusing to breastfeed. Had it been the first time the baby had done it, Olivia wouldn't have worried. But she and Isabelle had been having a difficult time since they left the hospital. Isabelle would eat a little then refuse to eat any more for hours. Lately, the infant was barely eating at all. Fitz smirked at his wife's cajoling tone as she tried to get the baby to latch onto her breast. He sat behind her on the bed and she leaned back against him with a sigh.

"She won't latch on. She hates me," Olivia whimpered, close to tears.

"She doesn't hate you," he answered, rubbing her shoulders gently. "Babies are like dogs. They can smell fear."

She wiped her eyes and lifted Isabelle's face near her breast for the fourth time, hoping the little girl would finally latch on. She didn't, just blinked at her mother and made spit bubbles. Olivia looked back at Fitz with sad eyes. "What do you think I should do?"

"I think you're a little hormonal, and more than a little tired." He kissed the crown of her head, reaching around her to stroke Isabelle's downy soft curls. The little girl yawned and closed her pale blue eyes then opened them again. "I think you should both take a little nap and try again when you wake up."

"What if she still won't do it?" Olivia yawned. She was tired, having been up worrying since 3AM when she fed Isabelle for the only successful time that day.

"We're not gonna worry about that right now." He continued to rub her tense shoulders until she relaxed against him. He kissed the curve of her jaw then her lips. Isabelle had drifted off to sleep.

"How can I not worry? That's the one thing we're automatically supposed to be able to do, Fitz." She was close to tears again, her voice cracking. Fitz kissed her again. She was always so strong and self-assured that it broke his heart to see her so insecure about something. He wasn't worried. He'd already been through three babies and knew they all ate at their own pace and on their own schedule.

"Calm down, Livvie," he murmured against her hair as she wiped away the tears streaking her face. He had been hoping to lull her to sleep by rubbing her shoulders, but she seemed completely oblivious to his touching. "When she's hungry, she'll eat."

Olivia nodded, looking down at Isabelle. The little girl was practically Fitz's clone, only a little tanner. She had his eyes and his soft curls and his smile. The only thing she had gotten from her mother was her nose. Olivia absently remarked, "She looks just like you."

"You think so?" She had his eyes but to him, everything else was Olivia. He saw only Olivia when he was looking at their baby girl, but that was because he loved them both so much that it didn't even occur to him to see himself when he looked at the product of their love

Since the day they'd gotten married, he'd been praying for a baby boy, someone he could take fishing and teach to throw the football. His divorce from Mellie had been as ugly as he'd expected, and as a result, he only saw Teddy on holidays. A little boy with Olivia would be his second chance, his opportunity to get parenting right. When she told him she was pregnant, he could already see his boy suited up on Friday nights, leading his team to a state championship, holding that trophy high above his head. Then the ultrasound had revealed an absence of a certain appendage necessary for all Fitz's dreams to come true and he was lost. Karen had followed her mother everywhere as a little girl so he didn't spend a lot of time with her. He hadn't had to have any tea parties, or play with Barbies and dress-up. He wasn't sure what he'd do with a little girl. Then, that magical morning after 27 hours of frantic waiting, he had looked into those little gray eyes and everything changed. He was wrapped around her finger instantly. She was immediately the center of his whole world. He wasn't sure he even wanted a boy anymore, his heart lost to his sweet, little, beautiful, wonderful, perfect all-American baby girl.

"She's got your eyes, and your smile, and that," Olivia fingered the longest lock of Isabelle's hair that hung right about where his longest curl did, "is definitely a budding Superman curl."

He laughed. "I think she has your smile. And your ears. And your stubbornness, apparently."

"My stubbornness?" she scoffed, giving him a wide-eyed look. "You're actually saying I'm the stubborn one in this relationship?"

"I was only stubborn because you were." He smirked when she rolled her eyes.

"'I am not spending any more time away from you, Olivia.' 'I'm not letting you go.' 'We are never over.'" He smirked at her impression of him. She thought she was so cute.

"'Did you need something, Mr. President?' 'I am not yours.' 'You don't summon me.' 'Let me go.' 'There's no Vermont.' 'You need to stop calling me.'" She giggled, remembering all the times she'd tried to push him away, and never meant it.

"'Then you need to stop answering.'" She kissed him, smiling at the taste of coffee on his lips. It felt like it had been years since she'd last had coffee. "I'm glad you didn't stop calling."

"I'm glad you didn't stop answering," he replied, looking down at Isabelle. "Look."

Olivia looked down and gasped, relief flooding her body. Isabelle had finally latched on.