Something happens in the moment wedged between hope and achievement. The climb is so steep and treacherous, and in those final steps before reaching the pinnacle, there is space for one final breath, space to change your mind, space to for fear to feed your doubts one last time before everything changes. There has to be a name for it. So often overlooked, a memory there and gone quickly, it's often too elusive to grasp. Attempts to recall it will be futile because it seems so inconsequential at the time, so forgettable, it's almost as though it doesn't exist at all.

Keenly aware of this moment, Olivia takes the time to savor those final steps before the realization of a dream she sometimes feared would come true. On the Truman balcony where she sits alone, nursing a glass of her favorite red wine, she inhales deeply, branding the scent and others of the night on her brain. It is freshly cut grass, perfectly trimmed roses, and if she tries really hard, she swears she can get a whiff his cologne. It lingers, like his presence, long after he's disappeared.

It is the clearest of nights, the sky lit brightly by a full moon that feels closer than usual, brighter than normal and with a deep orange tint. Even it seems to know that it has a role to play on this perfect night. The DC evening shows its best, from the nighttime hums of insects that flutter about, to an occasional firefly, the night wraps itself around Olivia, reassuring her; embracing her.

For the first time in so long, too long, she's allowed herself to indulge in her own needs. The wine, the company, the desire and love, all things she's so desperately missed but could never allow herself to admit. Their absence left a gaping hole in her existence, the poison of loneliness and fear and self-hatred infecting every part of her life, immune to any temporary medicine. Here, she is safe and secure and here, this man, this love, is the only medicine that can cure what ails her.

The months have been difficult and there were times she thought it would be easier to give up and give in to the life that was easier. The stakes were too high, the consequences too great if she made a wrong move and she was drowning in the chaos that was hurled her way again and again and again. Yet, just when she was ready to give up, something shook her back to her senses and duty took hold. She refused to face defeat and allow her father to take her life the way he had taken so many others. What he failed to understand is she is truly his daughter, a byproduct of his union with her mother and as such, she is stubborn, brilliant, tactical and while he lives his life like he had nothing to lose, she is someone who loves and loves deeply; she has everything to lose.

Tonight, it ends. Or maybe tonight is the night her life begins? She takes another sip of her wine, closing her eyes as the warm liquid re-awakens dormant taste buds before sliding down her throat. She has no doubt Fitz still desires her in every way, but what she will say when their eyes connect remains a mystery. There is a part of her that wants to run into his arms and kiss and love him the way she's craved for so long. There is a greater part, however, that wants to let him take the lead. Knowing how both of their lives have changed in the past few hours alone, she will do something that is unfamiliar, just let it unfold.

She hears his bedroom door open and then close, followed by a heavy sigh and even heavier footsteps. Though she wants to immediately make her presence known, she stands back and watches him. He has no idea how beautiful he is. The span of his back is something to behold. She watches his muscles expand and contract as he grips the railing in front of him. He clenches his teeth and gnashes them together, a habit she'd broken him of long ago. She finds it sexy now. Every movement he makes seems to enhance his perfection in her eyes. His arms, his hair, the twitch of his eye – he is her everything.

She knows she will look back and conjure not only the images from this night, but the sensation that washes over her the moment she is in his presence again. She will close her eyes and smile to herself as she recalls all the naughty words he whispers and the places he touches, not only on her body, but in her very soul. She will say it was one of the best moments of her life, but in reality, it is the day she came to life. His breath became hers. His love became more than a lifeline, it became the reason for her existence for it is the night when she finally admits to herself and to him, she was born to love him.

As she observes him, she cannot help thinking of the long, winding, bumpy and dangerous road she's traveled. As painful as the journey, as devastating as it has been, it has only strengthened her love and commitment to him. There are things she wishes she could take back, choices she wishes she could undo, but none matter anymore. It is the two of them reunited, so when she steps out of the shadows to make her presence known, she does so with confidence that is not at all manufactured, it just…is.

She is grateful few words are exchanged. They both know there will be plenty of time to talk in the morning, so as they move closer to each other, like magnets, they do so to feel. To feel alive. To feel love. To feel the peace that only the other can bring. It's a tectonic shift in their relationship, physical obstacles removed, and it's freeing. They've finally made it.

They lie in bed side-by-side unable to sleep. Various fears and insecurities wreak havoc in exhausted minds and tired bodies. If he closes his eyes too long, fear or maybe history has taught him she will slip quietly into the night like an elusive apparition, leaving a simple note with a hastily scribbled explanation for her absence. If she closes her eyes, it will happen again; she will realize the feeling of total peace and easiness was merely another dream taunting and teasing, laughing bitterly at her suffering. So, they sit in silence paralyzed by their cruel history.

"Livvie?"

Her breath catches at the sound of his nickname for her spoken in that particular way. It's been to long. She takes a moment to gather herself, clear her throat and find her own voice. "Yes?"

"I've got you." She snuggles closer to him trying to merge their two into an unbreakable one. He will never know how much those words mean to the woman who's worked so hard to catch everyone else, she never knew how it felt to have someone there to catch her.

Although there has been little time for catching up, he knows the hell she's been through these past months as she carried the burden of her father on her shoulders. He would have given anything to be with her, to protect and hold her together when she was coming apart at the seams, but her journey was one she had to walk alone. In the end, she had to be the one to bring down Eli Pope.

He slides his hands up and down her arms and quietly wipes her tears. He peppers her forehead with kisses and lets her know it will all be fine. They will be fine.

She has no choice but to believe his promise; he can convince her of almost anything. So many days she doubted they would make it, but he was the one who always believed, sometimes enough for the both of them, they would somehow make it through the darkest days and end up together. He always said he didn't know how and he didn't know when, but he had faith they would find their happily ever after. Olivia Pope never believed in fairytales and laughed at him more than once, but in her heart of hearts, his faith sustained her.

An hour or two passes when there is another moment. One of silence and reflection as she absorbs the magnitude of what the night means for them. She is finally lying next to her love in the White House and it's just the two of them. There will be press to dodge in the morning. There will be questions and statements and intense damage control. Yet, she is not afraid as she enjoys the moment of stillness.

She resists the urge to touch him, instead turning her attention to the strip of sunlight creeping into their space. She doesn't resent the intrusion this time; rather, she appreciates it. It affords her the opportunity to add this to her book of memories of them.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

She smiles as she looks down at him. "I'm happy," she says, her voice unexpectedly filled with so much emotion.

They have shared thousands of words, maybe even millions. They've shared declarations of love, promises of forever, but never has he heard her say the words, "I'm happy." He maneuvers her body on top of his and kisses her all over her face. Suddenly, his smile is replaced with something she identifies as mischief. Before she can move he flips them over and starts tickling her. "You're happy, huh?"

"Stop it! Stop! Fitz!" Her laughter is a rare treat for him. It's loud and uncontrolled and when she really gets going, she hiccups and loses her breath. Few people see that side of his Olivia Pope.

Just as quickly as he began, he stops as he hovers above her, eyes shining. "I'm happy too."

They spend the rest of the early morning hours reacquainting themselves. There are short and long term plans. There are sincere apologies and a more than a few tears. What is not present is dread. Even as they get out of bed for a shared shower, there is joy and optimism.

As they shower, Olivia washes every inch of his body and allows him to do the same for her. It is one of the many things she's missed about them. Their magical showers, the intimacy of them, touching, caressing, massaging, being fully exposed. She never showered with anyone before or after Fitz; she never trusted or loved enough to allow herself to be seen.

They make love one last time before they have to join the rest of the world. Their ministrations are slow and thorough, reminding her once again no one knows her body the way he does. Over and over they utter words of love and devotion; they can't say it often or loudly enough.

They dress and complete their morning routines separately, avoiding wandering hands and hungry lips. When he sees her again, fully dressed and prepared for the day, her appearance is not lost on him. She wears a hint of gloss, colorful attire and her hair is fun and natural. This is his Olivia.

"You look beautiful." She knows he means it. She feels beautiful and free.

"Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself, Mr. President."

He takes her into his arms and to his chest. "Are you ready?"

She pulls away slightly and looks up into his eyes. His wide smile is infectious and inspires nothing but confidence. "Absolutely."

He takes her hand as he leads her to the bedroom door. "I've already called my lawyer," he says as they exit together. He is surprised when she continues holding his hand. "She's making a few changes but Abby's going to issue a statement today about our pending divorce. Mellie will be served tomorrow."

As they near the end of the main hallway of the residence, she turns to him and says, "This is really happening?"

"It's really happening." He kisses her to emphasize his point. They continue toward the West Wing, unable to hide their smiles and for once, they don't even try to conceal their love.

"You know, Mr. President, I could get used to this."

"Ms. Pope, you will get used to it. I guarantee it."

As they approach the West Wing, they hear footsteps and voices, and all the sounds of the beginning of a new workday. Their strides become shorter and slower, as their final moments together come to an end. He stops and turns to her, "Will you come back for lunch?"

"I think I can swing it."

"Dinner too?"

"That's pushing it." She smiles as she says it and he knows they will have another evening together.

He leans down and places a simple kiss her lips. "We did it."

"We did, Fitz." With one last kiss, they turn away from each other, moving in opposite directions. Though neither can see the other, they both smile as their pace quicken. For once, it's not an ending or a separation for an unknown period of time. This time, it is the beginning of their forever.