A/N: I know I'm super late in writing this, but I'm finally on summer break so I should be able to update sort of periodically now, haha. Anyway, this is based on the events from 6x12, after the bunker scene, and in this, Olivia goes to see Fitz. I've borrowed some lines from the episode itself, but it is merely borrowing, for I don't at all, in any way, own this brilliant show. So, without further delay, please R&R! Constructive criticism is much appreciated!

"You don't take Olivia Pope. Olivia Pope takes you." Her words hang in the silence for a moment, and then she turns on her heel and leaves, relishing the shocked look on the other woman's face; Olivia finally had a semblance of the upper hand, and it left her feeling good for the first time in a long time. Then, the thought comes to her that she was just mimicking her father's control, and that good feeling dissipates rapidly as his words in the room come back to her: "Is this what you call winning? Worthless!"

Of course, Fitz had immediately challenged him, and then came the response: "I said worthless, as in everyone in this room, as in you, as in this inconsequential, futile, worthless attempt to get rid of the problem at hand." And at Fitz's intervention in defense of her, Olivia had reprimanded him. God, she regrets that now as her father's next words play again in her mind: "And what about you, Mr. President, should I respect you? A man who could have arrested his son's killer but traded that chance for a cheap roll in the hay? That is why you spared me, yes? So that you could buy your way back into my daughter's bed? I'm just cash to you, a wrinkled dollar bill thrown at the foot of a stripper! You should know all about that from your daddy!"

And then Fitz is on his feet, his jaw set, his eyes hard as he makes a beeline towards Rowan. She can remember exactly what happens, and can remember every single word that had come out of her father's mouth. The fact that he had said them in front of Fitz and Jake and everyone else when tensions were already high between them all made her feel even lower, and the old insecurity comes back; maybe her father is right, she thinks, recalling how Mellie had looked stricken, how Jake had lowered his eyes uncomfortably, how there had been shifting and moving as her father spits that she is a whore, not important to Fitz at all but merely a prize to be won by him.

This is all she can think as she walks into the Residence, exhausted but wanting to see Fitz nonetheless, especially after what had transpired last night. "Hey," Fitz says, looking up from editing his speech with raised eyebrows. Olivia reads the challenge on his face, almost as if he's saying: "Are you going to actually let me in?" She remembers how she'd walked away from him after Rowan's words, and involuntarily feels a twinge of guilt. They, her especially, would need to try harder if they wanted to maintain this relationship, and she sighs. "Hi," she replies, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"You look tired," he says, again with the same challenge in his tone, daring her to tell him that she's fine and walk away. She doesn't, and he seemed slightly mollified. They sit in silence for a few more minutes, the scratch of his pen as he crosses things out the only sound in the room. "I handled her," Olivia finally says at length, and she doesn't have to elaborate. Fitz nods, putting his pen down. "Want to just go to bed?" he asks. Olivia looks at him in surprise. "Okay," she says quietly, and she starts changing out of her suit, Fitz shrugging off his button-down and throwing on a t-shirt.

Five minutes later, it's dark in the room and they're laying next to each other, Olivia's head resting gingerly on Fitz's chest because it's been awhile since they've done this, just slept side by side. And they're not really sleeping, or even trying to, not really, because they're both thinking the same thing, Olivia knows.

In the dark, Fitz suddenly starts to talk. "What your father said today," he begins, "he was wrong." "I know," is Olivia's automatic response. "I'm fine." "You're the love of my life," Fitz goes on. "And I need you to stop internalizing what he said-I know you have-because you're so much more than that, so much more important than what he implied. You're not something to be won, not a consolation prize, and I didn't spare him for you; I wasn't even thinking about you, I just-Look, just know that every moment we've spent together, whether it's those little moments on the phone or in the Oval or just working on speeches or whatever, those are special. You're special."

And Olivia feels the lump in her throat threaten to choke her as she whispers a shaky, inadequate, "Okay," and rolls closer to him. She's quiet, and Fitz can hear her uneven breathing in the dark and he knows that she's crying, maybe because she had needed to hear that so badly, maybe because she's exhausted and his words were too much on top of everything else. "You okay?" he asks after her breathing tapers out a bit, and feels her nod.

And Olivia does. She does feel okay. "Thanks," she says, followed by a quiet, "I love you." Fitz smiles as he presses his face into her hair and breathes in the lingering scent of her shampoo. "I love you too," he replies, and they stay casually entwined together until they both drift off into sleep.