AN: Quick one shot (requested by my Tumblr girls)…Olitz discussing Jamus. Post Inaugural Ball.

THERE GO I

Despite the hustle and bustle of normal activity on the other side of the door, within the curved walls of the Oval Office all that could be heard were ragged breaths and sighs of contentment. Olivia took several deep breaths to steady her breathing and bit back a moan as Fitz's sweaty abdomen gently and briefly tough her back. She sank deeper into his embrace as he in turn sank deeper into his chair. I should go. She thought. Seemingly in response, Fitz tighten his arms around her, pulling her flush against him – back to chest, his softened member nestled against her cheeks and lower back. He lightly stroked her soft skin just below her naval causing her stomach muscles to jump repeatedly.

"We need to set Cyrus up." Fitz stated simply. Olivia frowned at the lack of mirth in his voice as he broached what she deemed to be a ridiculously random topic under the circumstances. She turned slightly so that she could look into his eyes,"What?"

"Cyrus," he sighed in response, seemingly becoming aggravated. "We need to set him up."

"Fitz, I don't kno—"

"He's ready." He stated matter-of-factly as though he was reciting the weather. "Trust me Liv, he's ready."

"O—okay" She wore a puzzled look at she watched frustration slowly mar his handsome features. He motioned for her to get up so she slowly removed herself from his lap and turned to fully face him. Fitz roughly ran his fingers through his hair as he stood and pulled his pants up over his hips. Olivia mirrored his actions and stepped into her dress, pulling it up her body and onto her shoulders. "Obviously you're upset about something. What's this about?"

"Nothing."

Olivia's face wore an expression of disbelief but she refrained from speaking and patiently watched Fitz as he began to pace back and forth.

"I mean it, nothing. I mean I saw Cyrus staring longingly at Mary tonight during the third ball from across the room and I just thought…I don't know." His shoulders shrugged in a rough, jerky manner as he continued to pace. "I don't know. I just thought."

While Olivia initially smirked at the mention of Mary, her lips slowly turned downward as she witnessed Fitz become increasingly distressed. She stepped in his path and reached out to gently steady him as his forward movement came to an abrupt stop. She waited for him to meet her gaze and, when it became obvious that he did not intend to look at her, she cradled his face between her palms and silently willed him to raise his eyes.

"Hi Grant." She said softly while tenderly stroking his cheeks.

"Hi Livvie." He whispered.

"What wrong? Really."

"I just," He tried to move his face out of her hands but she held fast. He shook his head back and forth slowly and softly grazed his warm hands the length of her arms until they enclosed around her wrists. He gently removed her hands from his face and took a few steps backwards, leaning heavily against the edge of his desk.

"He married the wrong woman." He began softly, head hung low. "Liv, he married the wrong woman. And that shouldn't, that shouldn't stop him. I mean, he should be able to—Fuck!" Fitz shifted his weight from one side to the other, "that choice, that mistake, shouldn't hang around his neck like a noose forever. Love, happiness and fulfillment shouldn't elude him because of it. He married the wrong woman. He has a right to move on and be happy"

"Fit—"

"If he wants Mary Berry, then god dammit, I'm going to see to it that he gets Mary fucking Berry!"

Olivia tried to swallow her laughter but as Fitz's eyes snapped to her face it was clear that her attempt was in vain.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing," Her shoulders began to shake. Mary fucking Berry.

"Fitz, nothing is funny." She bit down hard on her bottom lip as it quivered from silenced laughter. "I promise." She walked up to him and stepped in between his legs.

"Fitz, I want you hear me. Ok?"

"ok" Fitz's eyes betrayed the calm demeanor.

"One, you are not Cyrus Beene. Your situations are not the same. Ok? You have a right to be happy, to be loved and to love, to be fulfilled. Ok?"

"Yeah"

"Mellie may not always feel like a noose around your neck"

"Don't." He rolled his eyes in response. "Don't. I married the wrong woman. It's that simple. But somehow, in spite of all the bullshit, I've defied the odds. I met you." He gazed deeply into her eyes, conveying all the words and feelings he knew she was afraid to hear. I love you. I'm happy with you. With you, I'm complete. "If I could give Cy even a tenth of what I've found with you, I would."

"Fitz," Her smirk was back. "He wasn't looking at Mary."

"He wasn't?"

"No, I doubt it. Who else was around?"

"I don't know, that guy John something, and Steve something…oh and James."

"You're cute when you're in the dark." She smiled broadly. "He was looking at James."

"James?"

"ummhmm"

"Cyrus?"

"ummhmm" she nodded.

"Cyrus Beene and James?"

"Yep."

"Reeaaally?" He smirked.

"Yeah. He's going to be ok. See, his mistakes or choices didn't steal his chance away from him."

"Hmmm"

"Oh lord, what?"

"I should give James 15mins and have Cyrus brief him beforehand."

"No." Olivia stated firmly. "Absolutely not."

"What?"

"You are not playing cupid, Cupid. They are doing just find on their own."

"Fine." He pouted.

"Besides, you've done enough mister. Apparently you're giving him a tenth of me?" Olivia took a step into him, their chests almost touching. Staring into his eyes, she whispered, "Which part exactly?"

"Here?" She pointed to her neck. "Mine" He murmured as he placed a soft kiss against her neck.

"This" She pointed to her heard. "Mine" He placed his hand over her heart and slowly slid his palm over her breast and squeezed.

"What about—" She pressed up against his body. "Mine" He growled as he cupped her butt and ground his budding erection into her center.

"My my, aren't we selfish Mr. President." She teased. She yelped as he picked her up and walked toward the left couch.

"You damn right." He gently laid her down and hovered above her. "Now, desk – check; chair – check; before the night's through, how bout we add couch and seal to the list?"

"Mr. President" She feigned shock.

"Keep talking like that and I may throw in the wall." As his lips descended upon hers he had one final fleeting thought before surrendering to the sweet bliss only found in and with her. Second Chances – But for the grace of God.