I disliked just about everything we saw in the mid-season finale, so I decided to re-write it. I hope you enjoy this one-shot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

He's been staring at the bedroom floor for nearly fifteen minutes when she finally storms through the door. She looks stressed, panicked almost, and he jumps to his feet immediately.

"Where were you, Olivia?"

"Out.", she snaps, turning away without giving him as much as a glance.

"I gathered as much.", Fitz grumbles, immediately annoyed with her snippy attitude. "What are you doing?"

She's on her knees in their closet, rummaging through drawers and pulling out everything that seems to be in her way. He watches her briefly and his annoyance almost washes away when he notices just how terrible she looks. Olivia's hands are shaking and there are tiny droplets of sweat covering her forehead. Her hair is messy, almost like she's run her fingers through it one too many times. He's just about to reach out to her when she jumps up triumphantly, holding a jar in her hands.

Fitz groans, his eyes rolling before he can stop himself. It's the damned hooch that he once watched Mellie drink until her tongue was lose and her hurtful words tumbled out without any regard for his feelings.

"What is this?", he asks again, but Olivia ignores him.

She tries to open the jar once, twice, a third time, but the lid won't budge. To his surprise, she's suddenly teary eyed. Olivia stomps her foot and tries the lid again, wrapping her hand around it tightly and twisting with all her might. The mason jar doesn't open, and that's when Fitz decides to step in. He takes it out of her hands and puts it on the small table, out of reach for now. He wants to ask her again what exactly this is he's just witnessed, but Fitz decides to give her a moment instead. It only takes a few short seconds before she snaps.

"I'm suffocating!", Olivia yells, more angry than he's seen her in a long, long time. "I hate this."

Fitz knows that this was coming, that it was only a matter of time before her carefully created wall would come tumbling down. Deep down, he had hoped they'd figure it all out before Olivia would reach the breaking point, but they had missed the point of no return.

"I hate picking out china, I hate giving tour after tour to noisy elementary school children, and I hate sharing cookie recipes with high maintenance women that are nothing like me. I built this life, this career and reputation, and now none of it matters. I'm just another ornamental pawn in this ridiculous game."

He wonders if this game she is referring to is the White House duties, or their relationship.

"You are not."; Fitz tells her, but he knows that she is.

"I am.", Olivia spits out. "I do nothing of substance or importance. I merely exist doing something that any aide could accomplish, every damn hour of every day."

"You hate being here.", Fitz summarizes, and it hurts him to his core to finally admit it out loud. "You hate being here with me."

For the first time, Olivia lets herself peer up at him. He looks tired and defeated, and there is a part of her that feels bad for doing this to him. But there is another – much bigger – part that is too wrapped up in her own hurt to truly feel his. This thing they tried to create, this normalcy that they thought would solve all of her their problems, is nothing but smoke and mirrors now. It's not going to work. Not like this.

"Do you love me?", he asks, and it's so out of the blue that Olivia doesn't know what to say.

But as she thinks about it, she realizes this it is the one thing that hasn't changed, even when everything around her did.

"I do.", she admits.

It's quiet, barely above a whisper, and she lowers her eyes immediately after. It only takes him a couple of steps to be right in front of her, but the touch she expects doesn't come. The closeness will never not have an effect on her, so she lets a few moments pass before looking up at him. They are at a crossroads, all of their mistakes and shortcomings suddenly stacked up against the one thing they do have – that undeniably strong love that has gotten them this far, against all odds.

"I love you, too.", Fitz whispers finally. "And that's why I think we owe it to ourselves to try."

"We did try.", Olivia points out, but even as she says the words, she barely believes them.

"Not the way we should have.", he admits. "We tried too hard, did too much, too fast."

"We can't change that. We can't take that back."

"No, we can't. But we can learn from those mistakes we made and do things differently."

"Nothing we do will change the fact that I feel trapped here."

He lets those words sink in, mulling them over in his head. Fitz realizes that it's not just the circumstances that make her feel trapped, that it's not just the White House that makes Olivia feel like a prisoner. It's his love for her, too, because that's all she has ever known – she's only ever known love to be a form of imprisonment. There are very few people that have loved Olivia, and even less that she has loved in return. There's her father, who has used his sick interpretation of a father's love to trap Olivia all of her life. There's her mother, who has a similar hold on her. And Fitz knows that Olivia loves them both, because they are her parents, and no matter how hard she tries to let all of their faults be reason enough to hate them, there is always a part of her that feels connected to them. That alone is prison in itself. There's her gladiators, and even though Fitz believes she loves them for the right reasons, they too have a hold on her that is almost dangerous. She cannot quit them, and they know that she can't.

And then there's him. Fitz knows that their love is genuine, but when he takes just a moment to reflect on their past, he realizes that he has used it to trap her. No matter how good his intentions might have been, it's something that needs to stop if they ever want to have a chance to make things work.

"That ornamental role you have taken on? It stops today.", Fitz finally says.

"It's what First Ladies do.", Olivia interjects. "It's what they are."

"No.", Fitz argues. "It's what Mellie was because she let others dictate that role on her. It's what the women before her were, when they allowed others to tell them exactly what their function needed to be. I know you don't really believe that that's how it should be."

Olivia shrugs, but she knows he's right. Of course a First Lady should never be just that. She's not even truly the First Lady, but her tasks were made very clear, and she simply allowed others to take charge over her.

"If you still want to be with me, if you want us to try this again, then we change all of this."

"How, Fitz?", Olivia asks and he can tell she's becoming frustrated again. "How could we possibly change the fact that I wasn't made to be this kind of woman?"

"We allow you to be the kind of woman you are. It's that simple. And I'm so sorry I didn't see that before. I'm truly sorry that I made these decisions for you."

"You were punishing me.", she whispers, but there is no accusation to her tone.

"I was. I was so angry with you, but it wasn't just punishment. I really am trying to keep you safe."

"I know that, Fitz. I appreciate that. But I can't live like this."

"I agree with you. Neither can I. That's why things need to change, right now."

She's quiet for a minute, and he can see the moment the fixer in her kicks in.

"I need to be able to work. I spent too much time building a reputation to throw it all away now. I need to be able to walk out of here when I have a case and consult with my people whenever I want."

"Okay.", Fitz agrees, although it hurts him to think they'll lose her here at the White House – that he will lose her here.

"I want to have an input on more than china patterns and Christmas tree decorations.", she continues. "I'm not expecting a seat at the big boy table every minute of every day, but I want to be included. I'm good at this stuff. You know I am."

For the first time that night, Fitz smiles. She is good at all of this stuff – the politics, the great ideas that she seems to come up with so quickly sometimes, the no-nonsense attitude that earns her respect wherever she goes. She is good, and Fitz finally realizes that they need to use her potential, not suffocate it.

"So you don't want any of the official First Lady duties anymore, but you'll work with me?"

"I didn't say that. I can organize a dinner or two. I can schmooze with some people when it's needed. But I won't spend eight hours a day walking children through the halls of the White House telling them to stop touching things. I need a purpose, Fitz."

He's elated, but he's trying not to let his face show that. He wanted the changes for her – and for them – but he expected her to want to change everything. The fact that she is willing to compromise means the world to him.

"There will be times when I won't be able to join you at a dinner because I'm held up at OPA or with a client.", Olivia adds. "I need you to understand that."

"Okay. That's okay. We can make that work."

And he knows that they can. Sure, it's nice to have her by his side all the time, but he realizes now that he doesn't need her there constantly. He can run things by himself. He can do dinners, and schmoozing, and small talk. He doesn't need Olivia there for that, but it will be wonderful when she is. He is going to appreciate it again like he did before they allowed themselves to spiral out of control. It will be different. But it will be very much them.

He watches her sit down on the edge of their bed then, and she suddenly looks utterly exhausted. Maybe she's looked like this the whole time, but he'd been too angry to really notice it. Fitz sits down next to her and they are quiet together. It's not awkward – it's perfectly fine. Time ticks by for a little while, and suddenly he feels cold, clammy fingers wrap around his own. It's the first time they've touched in over a week, and that realization hits him with an unexpected weight.

"So we try again?", Olivia asks.

"I want to.", Fitz admits. "But we only do it if you want it too."

"I want to try again.", she replies, and there is no hesitation in her words.

Fitz wraps an arm around her, and she falls against him heavily. It feels almost unbelievable now that they went so long without as much as a quick touch, even though they shared a bed every night. Olivia only rests against him for a few seconds before she turns and wraps herself around him fully, soaking up his warmth and that scent that's so uniquely him.

"Is that were you went tonight?", Fitz asks, lips pressed against her forehead. "To OPA?"

Olivia's stomach drops at his question. Their fight had made her forget why she had been so worked up in the first place – why she had come looking for the hooch that she normally wouldn't waste a thought on. She considers lying to him, because it would be so easy. All she would have to do is answer 'yes', and they'd go to bed content. He'd be none the wiser, and things would be so easy. But they just promised each other to try, and though she feels like she's going to be sick, Olivia knows that lying is not an option. She owes him the truth, she owes them another chance.

"No.", she replies, and the tears rush forward without warning or permission. "I went to… I went to a clinic."

He pushes her up so she's looking at him immediately.

"A clinic? What's wrong? Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"I'm not sick, Fitz.", she whimpers, although she does feel like she might throw up any moment now.

"Livvie… I don't understand what's going on."

There's no way to make her words sound any less brutal, so Olivia decides to go straight for the truth.

"I went to an abortion clinic."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and she watches in agony as the color drains from Fitz' face. The arms that were holding her drop, and she doesn't know if she can keep herself upright.

"You… you did what?"

His ears are ringing and his heart is pounding so fast that it's painful. He briefly wonders if this is what a heart attack feels like, because he can't ever remember feeling such an intense, stabbing pain.

"I went to get an abortion.", Olivia cries, her voice barely recognizable through the sobbing. "But I couldn't go through with it."

His head is spinning, and before he realizes what's happening, he's crying. He has the intense urge to push her away, but when she falls forward and into his chest, he holds her. They are surreal – those feelings he's feeling right now. There's anger and pain and gut wrenching fear, and then somewhere in the back of his clouded mind, there's realization.

"You're pregnant?"

Olivia nods her head but doesn't pull away from him.

"I… I didn't think there was any other way. I didn't think we had a chance. And I can't be a mother. I would make a horrible mother."

"But you didn't…"

"I didn't do it. I couldn't go through with it."

"Why?", he rasps, because he doesn't understand how she could feel that way about motherhood, but keep the baby anyway.

"Because it's yours.", she whimpers. "It's ours. And I couldn't… I couldn't lose it."

"Dammit, Olivia, why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you would change my mind. I knew I wouldn't be able to go through with it if you knew."

"But you didn't go through with it anyway."

"I was already on the table.", she admits and it makes his heart hurt. "Everything was ready to go, but then all I could see was you. You kissing my stomach. You coaching me through labor. You holding our baby. I would make an awful mother on my own, Fitz."

"But you're not on your own. Don't you understand that by now? We're in this together."

"Fitz, I'm terrified."

He doesn't reply, just stares at her. She truly does look like she is scared out of her mind, but he doesn't agree with her. They are going to make good parents, because they are going to be doing it together. He hasn't been a good father either – he knows that and it hurts him to his core. This, however, is different. He loves Olivia, and he is committed to her and their unborn child in a way he could have never committed himself to Mellie. The fact that his children had to suffer because of their parents' shortcomings gnaws on him constantly, but there is no doubt in Fitz' mind that it can and will be different with Olivia.

"Do you want this baby?", he asks quietly. "Not for my sake, but because you want it?"

Fitz expects her to need time to think about this, but her answer is immediate.

"I want our baby."

It's the way she says 'our' that makes him cry. Fitz pulls Olivia into him, wrapping her up so tightly that she thinks he might crush her. His head buries into her neck and she feels the wetness of his tears on her skin. She's crying too and for a while they just sit and cry out all of their fears and the pain of the day's revelations.

When Fitz finally pulls back he looks down at her stomach.

"Can I?", he whispers, and she nods her head with an indulgent smile.

His hand is so big that it covers the expanse of her still-flat belly without trouble. Warmth seeps through her shirt and into her skin, and Olivia can't help but bring her hand to rest with his where their baby lies. She's known for exactly four and a half days that she is pregnant, and she's known for almost as long that she would have an abortion. It had seemed like the logical conclusion – like the inevitable next step. But as she watches the look on Fitz' face change from hurt to fascination and then happiness, she realizes that she has made the right decision. Not just for him or for them, but for herself.

She realizes that she is happy.