"Lucia?"

"Can...can we meet somewhere to talk? I think there's something you need to know."

Earlier that day

For all her life, Lucia Rodriguez had been a wallflower. Always wading in the background, quiet and observant, noticing things nobody else seemed to. It was what had made her such a great student, what had helped her land a full ride to Barnard. And three years ago, just after graduation, she thought it was what would make her the perfect assistant for the soon-to-be CEO of one of the country's premier private jet companies.

"Lucia!" Her boss came storming out of his office, his face red. "Why am I scheduled to meet with Robert Newberg this afternoon?"

Oh how wrong she had been.

She quickly swallowed the last of her turkey sandwich, sending up a silent prayer of thanks that she was even able to finish it today. "Last week you said you needed to speak to him as soon as possible, and this was the earliest he could meet."

"Yeah, well you need to reschedule." He picked up one of the folders on her desk, flipping through it aimlessly. "I already told you I have another meeting then."

She hurriedly pulled up his schedule, her eyes narrowing as she looked it over. "But there isn't anything else there. It says you're free for two hours –"

"Well it's a good thing I don't pay the computer to keep track of that sort of thing, now isn't it?" He tossed the folder down harshly.

After a moment, he sighed and rounded her desk to stand behind her. Her breath hitched.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap on you like that."

Her stomach coiled at the sudden feel of his hand resting on her shoulder.

"Can you cancel the meeting with Newberg? I'm going out. If a man named Tom Larsen gets here before I get back, just let him wait in my office."

She kept her eyes locked on the screen and nodded, holding her breath.

"Thanks, Lucy, you're the best."

He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and then, he was off.

She didn't move.

I need this job.

She chanted it in her mind, over and over, until it stuck. Eventually, her body started to relax. She rolled her shoulders a few times, shaking off the lingering sensation of his touch.

At once, her phone chimed and she glanced down to see an incoming text from her brother. She sighed heavily.

That was why she needed this job.

She rolled her eyes at his message: Don't forget I'm going to after school (like how you forgot to sign my test :/ )

Then grinned at the next one: Seriously, now Mrs. Romero said if you don't sign it tonight I won't get my correction points. I don't know why you like her so much, she sucks

She responded quickly: Stop hiding in the bathroom and texting. Go to class.

He was quicker: It's lunch

She chuckled, deciding the best way to stop him was to no longer entertain him. Setting her phone back down, she stretched her neck and quickly sent an email to Robert Newberg's assistant, before returning to what she had been working on before her quick lunch. Nearly half an hour passed when she noticed she was missing a few documents. Frowning, she realized that she had given them to her boss that morning, and he had yet to give them back. With yet another silent prayer of thanks for his absence, she quickly slid into his office and made her way over to his desk.

She glanced over the mess of scattered papers that littered his workspace, and her brows furrowed. She didn't like being in his office. In fact, she could barely stand it nowadays. She wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible, but now that seemed highly unlikely.

Taking a deep breath, she tried her best to ignore the growing tightness in her chest and began carefully sifting through the papers.

"Come on, where is it…"

Even while trying to be diligent, her haste made her clumsy, and she suddenly knocked a folder off the desk, sending its contents flying across the floor. She quickly dropped to the ground and snatched up a handful of documents. She managed to grab a few when something caught her eye.

There were pictures. Quite a few pictures of...Ms. Pope?

She slowly reached for the one closest to her, then another and another after that. They were from the same day, all taken from a distance as she waited outside a restaurant. Following the pictures' progression, she noticed someone making his way toward her. His back remained turned to the camera as he embraced her and led her inside, but Lucia stared long and hard, unable to shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him.

It wasn't until a moment later that she realized it didn't really matter. She clearly wasn't supposed to see those pictures, let alone analyze them.

She glanced them over a final time, and a shiver ran down her spine. They may not have been for her eyes, but she was also certain they weren't supposed to exist.

"Need a hand?"

She lurched forward with a gasp, the pictures falling to the ground again.

"Sorry." The same voice apologized. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Blood rushed to her cheeks at the thinly veiled amusement in his words, and she froze, her eyes locked on his feet as they entered her line of vision.

"Here, let me." Suddenly, he was kneeling before her, an unfamiliar face staring directly into hers.

She was struck by how stoic his expression almost was. Almost, because at his first glance at the pictures, an eyebrow rose – inquisitive, maybe even surprised. He masked it well, but it never quite left as he gathered the pictures and documents, then unceremoniously shoved them in a folder that, she realized after a moment, was his own.

And then, just as casually, he stood and extended a hand to help her from the ground. She reached for it hesitantly, half-expecting him to apologize for his inattention and hand back over the pictures and documents, but he never did. Instead, when she rose, he offered a charming hint of a smile, keeping his hold on her hand as he shook it.

"Tom Larsen. Nice to meet you."

"You're here for Mr. Shaw."

It was meant to be a statement, but it came out more like an accusation, as her gaze involuntarily settled on the folder now tucked under his arm.

"I am." He dropped her hand and his eyes narrowed, an accusation in its own right.

She swallowed hard, the tide of emotions that had swelled since his arrival – the embarrassment, the surprise, the confusion – settling in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right, and it made her want to...well, she didn't entirely know.

Why are you taking pictures of Ms. Pope?

She didn't know how she knew he was the one taking the pictures, but she did. Her gut told her. And if there was one thing she had learned from the times she had spent around the woman in those photographs, it was to trust her gut.

"Is he...around?" He glanced around the room, then out the she didn't immediately respond, he spared a glance at his watch. "I can wait for about ten minutes, but after that, I have to head out. If he's not back by then, will you just let him know I stopped by?"

She nodded, pushing back all her own questions to offer instead, "Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"Yeah, a new client," he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear.

She wasn't entirely sure how to respond to the smirk that followed – a conspiratorial gesture that seemed to say 'Come on, you get it.' And she did get it, but she didn't trust this man any more than her boss. And so, with a nod and a shadow of an acknowledging grin, she shifted awkwardly in place.

"I'm good, thank you," he tried instead.

She nodded, then gestured to one of the seats in the room. "He should be back soon. You can wait in here." With that, she slipped out of the room and returned to her desk.

She spent the ten minutes staring at her screen, scrolling endlessly. She had forgotten to grab the documents she needed, but even if she hadn't, she knew she would've been too distracted to actually do work. Her wariness grew by the minute, snowballing into full-blown suspicion by the time Tom reemerged from her boss's office.

"Look, I need to go. Can you just let him know I left everything on his desk?"

Just as she nodded, Dean strolled around the corner. The second he laid eyes on Tom, he quickened his pace, his face settling into a forced grin.

"You're early."

"No, I was on time. You're late."

Lucia kept her eyes on the computer screen, pretending to pay them no attention.

"Well," Dean started for his office, "let's discuss things in my office."

Tom stayed in place. "No can do, I have to head out." As Dean's head whipped around, he continued, "I told you if we met during the day, I only had a few minutes."

"That's bullshit–" he stopped short, suddenly seeming to remember they had an audience.

Lucia felt her boss's eyes on her and shifted in her seat, leaning forward and squinting at the screen to feign interest.

"Look," he lowered his voice considerably, "can't we just go inside and talk for a few minutes."

"Everything is on your desk." Tom began buttoning his coat. "And since you seem to keep forgetting, don't contact me until I contact you." And with that, he walked down the hallway.

Dean stayed in place, everything about his aura hostile, and Lucia again shifted in her seat.

Abruptly, he redirected his attention. "Lucy, what time will Newberg be here?"

She frowned. "He's not coming today, you told me to –"

"I told you I needed to meet with him as soon as possible. At least get him on the phone or something. Do I have to do everything around her my damn self?"

He stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him.

The moment it turned 5, she felt nothing short of utter relief. Dean's attitude had made it the afternoon from hell, and she couldn't get out of the office quick enough. She was packed up, the computer off and her coat on when the devil, himself, peeked his head out from his office.

"Why the hell does Leo keep bothering me about a list of statistics? Were you supposed to send them to him?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. Those were the documents she had needed from his office, but she hadn't dared to try to get them once he got back. She figured she'd have another chance to get them tomorrow.

"The numbers are in your office. You wanted to look them over to see if we could use them in an ad."

"Well, make sure it's done before you leave."

She sighed again, pushing her shoulders back and finally turning to face him. She had had enough.

"Actually, I was already on my way out," she gestured to her coat.

He raised his eyebrows. "Then hopefully it won't take you too long."

"Mr. Shaw –"

He glanced down at his watch, a smirk growing on his face. "Actually, I have to leave, too. I have plans. So after you finish with the list, lock up the office for me, will you?" Not waiting for an answer, he rushed back inside his office, grabbed his jacket and left.

Lucia stood there for a moment, then groaned loudly. Entering his office, she immediately found the papers she needed now on the corner of his desk. Grabbing them, she paused when she spotted the folder his guest had brought in on the center of his desk. She eyed it for a long while, her suspicions returning ten fold.

She could have it back there tomorrow morning before he even got in…

Fuck it.

She grabbed it and slid it under the stack already in her hands, praying that she wasn't making a mistake.

"And then Mr. Grant showed us how to – Cia?"

"Huh?"

"You ok?"

"Yeah," she nodded, ushering her little brother inside as she opened their apartment door.

"You seem distracted." Sebastian shrugged his backpack off, letting it drop heavily.

"Hey," Lucia pointed at it, "your room, now."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved a dismissive hand.

"And I'm fine, I just had a long day at work."

It wasn't a total lie, but she had been distracted their entire walk home for other reasons. What were the odds that she would run into Ms. Pope after what she had come across today? And with her boss's former driver nonetheless? It had only taken her a few seconds to realize that he matched the build of the man in the photographs, and a few more seconds to realize that their relationship – whatever it was – explained her boss's perpetually bad mood as of late. What it didn't explain, however, was why he had those pictures.

"Is that why you almost forgot me after I reminded you not to?" He called out on his way to his bedroom.

She rolled her eyes as she hung up her coat. "I told you, I didn't forget, my boss needed me to finish something, and I had to take the R."

"Should have just walked." Returning, he plopped down on the couch. "We ordering pizza?"

"Sure, I don't feel like cooking."

Minutes later, after she had changed into sweats, she joined him on the couch, smiling when he leaned his head on her shoulder.

"Pizza's on its way."

"Pepperoni?"

"Obviously."

She nudged him playfully and turned her attention to the TV. She smiled when she saw it was one of their Titi Elena's favorite movies.

"You know she'd be maaad she's missing it."

Sebastian nodded, looking up at her with a grin. "She'd probably curse us out for watching without her." They watched silently for a few more minutes before he spoke again, "I'm gonna learn to crochet."

She smiled, surprised. It was one of the things Titi Elena had planned to teach him just before she got sick again. She had tried to teach her brother, herself, once, the week after she passed, but he hadn't been up for it.

"You are?"

"Yeah, Mr. Grant told me that they're doing it next week."

"That's great," though she tried to keep her tone cheery, she couldn't help but get distracted yet again at the mention of her former co-worker. "So Mr. Grant, how long has he been there?"

Sebastian shrugged. "A few weeks. Everyone really likes him. That's why I wanted to go to after school."

She was quiet after that, thinking back on the weekend her boss had demanded that she spend her Saturday finding him a new driver. It was that Monday morning that he stormed in clearly hungover and made her cancel all his meetings, swearing incessantly under his breath about how it was "such fucking bullshit" that he had been dumped.

"I'll be back." She stood, making her way over to her purse and grabbing the folder she had slipped into it right before she left. Making her way to her bedroom, she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at it long and hard. She took a deep breath, then another and finally, with a shaky hand, pulled it open.

The first things she found inside were the personal records of a man named Billy Arnold Chambers. A photocopy of his passport, an arrest record from the nineties, documents from a hospital stint for an overdose. Then there were pictures, incriminating pictures, dated over the past few months, all of him in an office – presumably his – snorting cocaine. Lastly, there was a sticky note attached to one, the handwriting just barely discernible; it read: "Witness from Angel's."

Confused, she removed the documents, careful to keep them in order. Just underneath was a printed-out email from someone named Lillian Forrester containing what looked to be a draft for an article. Large, bold black letters titled it: "Like Father Like Son," but it was the subheading that caught her attention: "Stealing and salacious affairs, is Fitzgerald 'Big Gerry' Grant II's son following in his father's floundering footsteps?"

While some of the subsequent paragraphs were fleshed out, most contained merely a few words:

"Proof of stolen money (surveillance from Shaw estate - not good, but workable)."

"Grant (allegedly) sets plan in motion that same day. Meets Pope at Angels, witness - Billy Chambers"

"Olivia Pope - clueless scapegoat or conniving conspirator?"

"Proof of the affair. Barneys - Diane overhears Pope confirm their relationship. Dinner party - I see it with my own eyes. Shaw, himself, recalls many times when the two were alone."

"Caught in the act. Grant physically assaults Shaw (surveillance from apartment complex)."

"At this time, Shaw and Red Giant Jets have decided to not press charges. Shaw, however, has revealed that he is "deeply hurt" by the revelation. He says of his relationships with the two: 'I made the request myself for Fitz to be my personal driver, which tells you how much I respected him, and, to speak bluntly, I've loved Olivia since college, I mean, I was going to marry her.' In the end, he goes on to say that he is at least grateful for the outcome, 'When you think about the situation with [Grant's] father, about how much money was taken from charity, things could've been much worse. I'm just happy that none of my other employees were affected by their actions. Who knows what they could have been planning or just how bad things could've gotten?'"

Finally, at the page's bottom was a comment separate from the drafted article:

Billy Chambers checks out. Looks like your little talk worked, he's agreed to confirm that he saw them together that night. I passed along everything to Diane and she agreed that we need more sources from the fight. We want to double down on Grant throwing punches and make sure there's enough proof of that since Pope's smart and might try for a defamation suit. If she does, we can always threaten to file a lawsuit for assault.

Keep me updated.

LF

By the time she finished, Lucia's confusion had given way to utter shock, and, wide-eyed, she quickly flipped to the next page, then the page after that. More pictures, more documents – some of Ms. Pope, some of the driver, many of them together. There were past emails with similar outlines of the article, just with a few tweaks. One earlier draft contained in its subheading: "Money laundering and licentious affairs," another, "Fraud and flings," and yet another, "Tax evasion and illicit liaisons," all three with x's and notes like "too messy" inked next to them. However, while the accused crime changed freely, the article's intention remained the same: to smear the names of its two subjects.

Lucia wasn't sure what she had imagined she'd find, but it certainly wasn't this. It was like one big conspiracy, and she felt entirely out of her wheelhouse, a wave of regret suddenly churning in her stomach. Quickly, she slammed the folder closed and tossed it on her bed, beginning to pace back and forth.

"Cia?"

She stopped short as Sebastian appeared in her doorway.

"What's wrong?"

She glanced at the folder but shook her head. "Nothing, go back and watch the movie."

But he didn't move, instead eyeing her purposefully.

"Sebby, I promise everything's fine –"

He sucked his teeth. "You know I don't like when you call me that."

She smiled, grateful for the opening, "Which is why I always will."

Still, he stayed in place, staring at her warily until at last he said, "Whatever it is, you know what Titi Elena would say…"

She raised her eyebrows expectantly as he trailed off. "What?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "that's why I said you would know."

Immediately, they both burst into laughter. As it eventually tapered off, she walked up to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in for a hug.

"What's this for?" he asked, his words muffled by her shirt.

"For always making me feel better."

There was a sudden, hard knock on the front door.

"Pizza's here." Sebastian immediately removed himself from her arms and headed out of the room, pausing only when he realized she wasn't following. "You coming?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her gaze falling again on the folder, "There's a twenty in my coat pocket. Go pay, I'll be out in a second."

Making her way over to it, she thought of what Titi Elena really would say. Probably something clever about how she needed to get off her ass and do something, how sitting and worrying would bring her nothing but frown lines and misery, and – she could practically hear her now – 'who the hell wanted to deal with that?'

"Cia?" Sebastian called out.

With a deep breath, she reached for the folder again. "I'm coming. I just have to make a quick phone call."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?"

Olivia placed her hands on either side of Fitz's face, making sure she had his full attention. "I'm sure. You didn't even have to come this far with me."

"I did." He grabbed one of her hands and kissed her palm. "It's getting late, and it's already dark…"

She raised an eyebrow, something in his tone revealing that he had more to say. "And?"

He furrowed his brows. "And what?" When her expression didn't let up, he sighed. "And...I don't entirely trust this situation."

"What?" Olivia took a step back, shaking her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Fitz immediately reached for her again, his arms circling her waist. "It's just," he sighed, "first we run into his assistant of all people and now she's reaching out to you, just like that? Isn't that a little off?"

She looked away, not wanting to reveal her own worry. She did think it was off, very off. In fact, it left her a little suspicious.

But the poor girl had sounded terrified on the phone, and the last thing Olivia wanted was to scare her off by having Fitz tag along when she specifically requested that they be alone. By the time they had hung up, she knew he would insist on walking the few blocks with her to their meeting place – a cafe located not too far from either of them – so she agreed on the condition that he not actually come inside.

"I'm sure it will be fine," she tried to reassure him, meeting his gaze again.

He stared at her, giving her the same expectant look she had given him, but she didn't cave.

"Stop worrying," she smiled for emphasis. "Look, we passed a Chinese restaurant on this block, why don't you pick up our food and I'll meet you there when we're done?"

Fitz continued to study her, a long moment passing before he finally sighed. "Fine, but if anything happens, you call me, ok?"

Nodding, she leaned in for a gentle kiss. "Ok."

Always Brewing was even smaller than it looked from the outside. Tucked between two towering office buildings, the cafe was like a world entirely of itself, intimate and hidden away from the life outside its four walls. Olivia spotted Lucia seated in a back corner before the door even closed behind her. Cupping a steaming mug between her hands, the young woman looked up quickly at the sound of Olivia's entrance. She tried for a smile, but it merely revealed her apprehension, and Olivia returned a cautious smile of her own, slowly approaching the table.

"I got something when I came in so that I wasn't just sitting here," Lucia explained as a greeting when Olivia slipped into the seat across from her, quickly adding, "I would've ordered for you, too, but I didn't know what you would have wanted. I can wait if you want to get something before we–"

"Lucia," Olivia interrupted her rambling, offering another smile, "I'm ok, really."

Lucia nodded, shifting her gaze nervously as she began fidgeting with her fingers.

When she didn't say anything else, Olivia prompted her, "So you said there was something you wanted to show me?"

A grimace passed over the young woman's face, and Olivia shifted in her seat, suddenly on alert.

"There is…" Lucia trailed off, glancing significantly at her purse before reaching inside of it. "I, um, saw something today," she lowered her voice considerably, "that I don't think I should've seen." She produced a folder and set it carefully in the middle of the table. "But it...it involves you, and I think you should see it."

Olivia eyed the folder, reaching for it hesitantly. Between Lucia's unease and the way her gut was working overtime, she knew she wouldn't like what she found inside.

Several pages in, she realized "not like" was well beyond an understatement.

Confusion quickly gave way to anger, steadily rising with each new picture, boiling to rage with every document, until at last, it reached fever pitch.

"Son of a bitch," she hissed.

There it was, her and Fitz's entire relationship, distorted and debased for Dean's own corrupt intentions. She couldn't believe him. Well...she could. In fact, it was just like him, or rather, it was just like his mother, who, according to what lay before her, obviously had her fair share of say in the matter.

"He doesn't know that I took it from his desk," Lucia spoke timidly, pulling Olivia from her thoughts.

In her sudden rage, she had honestly forgotten that Lucia was there. She took a deep breath to avoid misdirecting her anger, but still it made her voice waver as she responded, "Thank you for sharing it with me." She closed the folder and handed it back to Lucia, using the moment to regain her composure before she continued, "Thank you for taking the risk, I really appreciate it."

Biting down on her lip, Lucia slid the folder back into her purse. "I don't know anything beyond what's in here." She glanced back up at Olivia apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Olivia shook her head. "Don't be. You've been more than helpful." When Lucia continued to look at her doubtfully, she added, "I'll take care of it from here."

Yet, for all her confidence, she wasn't sure just how she would do so. She knew how that family moved, how they were willing to jump through all kinds of hoops when they declared war on someone. But for the first time in a long time, she was happy; genuinely, truly happy, and she refused to let them continue to intrude upon that.

This time to reassure herself, she insisted, "I'll handle it."

Much to her surprise, Lucia blurted out, "I want to help," then, as if she had surprised her own self, started to blush fiercely as her eyes went wide.

Olivia considered her, waiting for her to take the offer back, but she never did. Instead, she swallowed hard, repeating, "I... I want to help." Then, with shaky yet growing confidence, she continued, "I have access to most of his files. I can see if there's anything else, maybe I can try to figure out when they want to release it?"

Touched by her sincere determination, Olivia couldn't help but reach out, placing a hand over hers. "I appreciate that, Lucia, really, but you and I both know if he catches you, you could lose your job."

Lucia nodded, averting her gaze and seeming to shrink in on herself as she considered it. After a moment, however, she straightened her spine and re-met Olivia's gaze, "I still want to do it."

With a small, appreciative smile, Olivia tilted her head. "Can I ask why? Why do you want to risk helping us?"

Lucia didn't even seem to think about her answer, "Because you're a good person, and he isn't."

There was something about the way she said it, something emphatic about her tone that made Olivia want to ask more, but she decided it wasn't the right time.

Instead, she nodded, giving Lucia's hand a grateful squeeze.

"Ok."

Fitz glanced down at his phone again.

It had been just around twenty minutes since he and Olivia parted ways, and he was starting to get antsy. Although she had tried to reassure him, he couldn't deny that Dean's assistant requesting a private meeting with her didn't sit quite right with him. In the past few weeks, things had been going well – in fact, better than well; things were amazing, and he desperately wanted to keep it that way.

That meant no unwanted disruptions, especially from the likes of Dean Shaw, and especially not tonight.

That was another reason he was anxious, though he tried to pretend it wasn't. He had decided the week before that tonight would be the night he'd finally tell her that he loved her. He had known during their first date but hadn't admitted it to himself until a few weeks afterwards. It was the night when he had fallen asleep on her couch, when he dreamt that she had whispered that she loved him, and he had said it back. And when he woke, he found the words had etched their way into his soul. He knew instantly at the sight of her sleeping on his chest, that she was who he wanted to wake up to every morning for as long as she'd let him.

He came close to blurting it out earlier. The way her face lit up when he revealed her favorite wine absolutely melted him, warming his insides with intense affection and making it so easy for the words to just slip out…

But now, they were here. Well, he was here, and she was down the block, talking about who the hell knows what.

He fiddled with the bag of takeout resting on the table in front of him. He tapped his foot. He checked his phone again.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he glanced outside. A relieved smile stretched across his face as he watched her peek inside the window, looking for him. He was outside soon afterwards, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"How was it?"

She hummed softly at the contact. "Fine."

Surprised that she didn't offer more as they started walking, he asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about." She reached up for the hand resting over her shoulder, lacing her fingers through his. "I'll tell you about it later."

There was an uneasiness underlying her words that gave him immediate pause, and he glanced down at her, frowning slightly. "You sure? We can talk about it now."

"Positive." She turned to him as they stopped at a corner, leaning up to peck his lips. "I've got it covered."

"Really?" It came out more accusatory than he meant, and he quickly cleared his throat.

She stiffened at his tone, and he was just about to apologize when she abruptly switched gears, "So what'd you get for us?" When he didn't immediately respond, she continued, "Did you get egg rolls? I remember you said you were craving them the other day."

He took the hint and, not wanting to push her, acquiesced, "Yeah, I did. I got you scallion pancakes, too, and a few other things for us to share."

The rest of the walk back to his apartment was relatively quiet. Soon, they were settled inside, their food spread out on the coffee table. While she relaxed on the couch, he made his way over to the fridge, returning a moment later with two glasses and the bottle of wine. He chuckled as she sat up straight at the sight, clapping her hands excitedly.

"Now for the moment you've been waiting for…" He twisted the replacement cork he had stuck in just before they left, removing it dramatically. He filled up one glass halfway, and Olivia immediately reached for it, but he was quicker, snatching it up and raising it to his lips.

"Fitz!"

"Hmm," he lowered the glass, pretending to inspect it carefully, "you're right, this is good."

He could barely get the words out before the entire bottle was snatched from his hands, and Olivia was pouring her own generous portion. He watched in amusement as she took a long sip and closed her eyes.

"Liv?" He chuckled.

"Shh, I'm having a moment."

Biting down on another laugh, he sat down beside her while she quickly finished her first glass.

"Did you actually taste it or were you just inhaling it?" He teased.

She paid him little attention, sighing contently. "It's even better than I remember."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He started to pour her another glass.

As he did, she watched him, and when he finally turned to her, he noticed that the playfulness in her expression had given way to something more serious. Her eyes roamed over his face and she opened her mouth, then closed it quickly, as if shoving whatever she was going to say deep down back inside.

"Liv?" He tried to coax her, but his own voice wavered with a sudden nervousness.

It felt like he was back in his dream, back in that glorious moment when they whispered those three words – when he felt his freshly bared soul was cocooned in hers, and hers just as safely in his.

He reached out to stroke her cheek. This was his chance. He was going to say it…

But then, her lips were on his, and the contact – as always – seared his thoughts until everything was simply sensation; soft lips and soft skin, an intoxicating blend of vanilla and mint and a sweet scent he could never quite place, the sound of her breaths, growing quicker and uneven as he pulled her onto his lap.

She shifted so that she was straddling him, and he didn't hesitate to pull her even closer, his hands falling first on the middle of her back then travelling lower, lower, until she sighed into their kisses and a low rumble swelled in his chest. They both knew they could only stay like that for a moment, his hands on her ass, his growing arousal pressed against hers...

His shirt went first, then hers, then went her bra, and the growl steadily rising in his throat finally escaped.

It had occurred to him once, after they'd spent the better portion of half an hour making out on her couch, that being with her made him feel like a teenager again. It seemed that each time they were together, they'd reveal a little more, go just a little further – the excitement of discovery, itself, enough to satisfy.

But, as he pulled back to gaze at her now, taking in the curve of her breasts – the expanse of soft, gorgeous flesh, always partially concealed, exposed fully at last – he was taken back not to his youth, but to the night they met. The same surge of molten lust flooded his veins as he moved his kissed to her neck, then her collarbone, lingering a little longer each time.

While she ran one hand over his back, she tangled the other in his hair, gently urging him downwards, and that simple gesture – the very thought of her desire matching his – opened Pandora's box. Instantly, he remembered the sounds she had made, the way she had felt around his fingers, the way she had tasted.

She had just started to reach for his belt, but he didn't give her a chance to unbuckle it. Instead, he flipped her over so that she was lying on the couch and he was hovering above her. Her surprised gasp melted into a moan as his mouth descended on one of her breasts and his hand grasped the other, the sound making him grow impossibly more erect.

"Fitz," she sighed, and he switched sides. But soon, her voice grew more purposeful, "Fitz, Fitz…"

He paused immediately, sitting up to make sure he had a clear view of her face. She was breathing heavily, her gaze sliding down to his chest and lingering there.

"Liv?"

She blinked, replacing her gaze with a roaming hand as she met his eyes again. "Condoms?"

He groaned, partially because she had finally made her way to his belt, unbuckling it with ease, and partially because he knew they'd have to stop there.

"I don't have any." It had been so long since he had needed them that even now, it always slipped his mind every time he made a trip to the store. Olivia's hands stilled and he grabbed them in his, pressing kisses to her wrists. "I know you mentioned you're on birth control, and I'm clean…" he offered, then waited with her hands in his – a silent sign of deference, whatever happened next was entirely up to her.

She shifted beneath him and frowned. "I missed the appointment for my depo shot and haven't gotten a chance to reschedule." With a loud sigh, she dropped her head back.

He swallowed hard, fighting with everything in him against the urge to latch his mouth onto her neck, and lowered himself onto his elbows. "I'm sorry," he kissed the side of her face.

She placed her hands on his back and pulled him closer, until, finally, they were skin-to-skin, his full weight just shy of resting entirely on her. They both sighed at the contact.

"Me too."

He flipped them over so that she was lying on top, and they stayed like that for a long while. In the ashes of his fervor remained an intense need to be close to her, and, eventually, with his fingers tracing imaginary swirls across her back, he asked, "Do you want to spend the night?"

She nodded against his chest. "I need to borrow something to sleep in."

In one swift movement, he stood with her in his arms and made his way over to the small dresser beside his pullout bed. He smiled at her small shriek of laughter as he dropped her on the bed, then pulled out a shirt and a pair of athletic shorts.

"Here." He plopped down beside her, handing over the clothes.

"Thank you." She leaned in to kiss him and, though he knew it was supposed to be little more than a peck, he couldn't help but deepen it. His hands cupping her face, he swiped her bottom lip with his tongue. She yielded immediately, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Not until they started to lie back on the bed did she pull away.

"Fitz, we shouldn't."

"I know," he sighed, resting his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

Finally, after a moment, she stood, holding his clothes to her chest. "Take the food out while I get changed?"

"Yup." He pointed to the apartment's only door other than the entrance, "Bathroom's over there."

He watched her walk inside, then, as the door closed, rubbed his hands over his face.

He may not have been sure of much, but he knew with certainty that one of these days Olivia Pope would be the death of him. And he'd enjoy every last second of it.

By the time she returned, changed and adorably swamped in his clothes, he had set the food out. With her legs in his lap, they ate and fed one another from each other's plates, and drank until he was sure she was tipsy, though she insisted between giggles that she wasn't. They fought over the remote, playfully wrestling until he gave in, and watched old movies until they both dozed off. And finally, when they made their way to be, he held her close until she fell asleep.

All the while, those three little words danced on the tip of his tongue, and thoughts of all else – even the meeting with Lucia only hours before – drifted from his mind as he, too, fell asleep.

"Hey, Fitz, I'm glad I caught you."

Fitz looked up from picking up scraps of paper to find Quinn at the cafeteria's entrance.

"Oh, hey, Quinn, I didn't know you were here this late."

"Extra help," she shrugged, joining him in picking up the last few pieces of paper. "Fun day?"

"We're doing crafts this week. Some of the kids wanted to try making paper doll chains."

"I tried that once," she tossed her scraps into the trash and grinned at a sudden memory, "I sliced my finger open. Had to get stitches and everything." Before Fitz could react, she shrugged again. "Anyways, I just wanted to know if you and Liv were going to game night at Valerie's?"

He paused, frowning slightly, "That's tonight?"

"Yup. She says she has you guys down as a 'maybe,' so I told her I'd find out for her."

Scratching his forehead, Fitz pulled out his phone and skimmed his last messages. Sure enough, one of the last texts he had sent to Olivia was four days ago asking if she wanted to go. Other than that, there were two other messages, one from the next day, wishing her good luck at work – she had already told him that it was going to be a hectic week, so he didn't think much of her silence – and the other was from just last night, when he asked if she wanted to go out that weekend to take her mind off work.

Though he knew she was busy, he couldn't help but feel that it was a little strange that he had her from her so little in the past week. Come to think of it, he realized, they had barely spoken since she spent the night at his apartment.

"So, is that a no?"

He turned to Quinn, nearly having forgotten that she was there. "Probably." Pushing his growing worries aside, he added, "Can you tell her I said thanks for inviting us and that we'll definitely try to make it next time?"

"Will do." Quinn started on her way out, "Tell Liv I said hi."

He tried his best but couldn't keep the frown off his face. "I will."

Fitz glanced down into the paper bag once more, making sure the styrofoam container of guacamole hadn't spilt on the walk over like last time, before he knocked on Olivia's door. Nearly a minute passed before he heard her checking the peep hole and she opened the door.

"Fitz?"

"Surprise," he raised the bag with a smile.

"You're here." She smiled back, but something in her expression gave him pause.

"I haven't heard from you in a bit and wanted to make sure you weren't overworking yourself." Then, catching the way she kept glancing anywhere but at him, he was suddenly unable to ignore the sense that he was distracting her from something. "I can just drop this off and head out, if you're in the middle of something…"

"No," she shook her head, "I mean, I'm doing something, but–" she looked him over, and a genuine smile lit up her face, "You came all this way, with food." She grabbed his hand, leading him inside. "And…"

"And?"

She stopped once they were fully inside and turned to face him, biting down on her lip. "And I missed you."

He grinned widely. "I missed you, too."

She kissed him, then motioned for him to sit on the couch. "Let me just move this stuff out of the way." She shut her laptop and grabbed the papers spread across her coffee table, placing them on a nearby chair.

He watched her curiously. "So what's had you so busy this week?"

She paused, fiddling with one of the papers, then shrugged. "Just trying to stay on top of some stuff before it gets out of hand." Her focus remained on the papers as she continued, "I, uh, might actually have to step out a little later, but you can stay here. It shouldn't take too long."

"Want me to take the ride with you?"

"No," she answered abruptly, then cleared her throat. "I mean, you don't have to. I'm going to be in work mode, I don't think I'd make great company."

He stood, walking up behind her and pulling her into his arms. "You're always great company."

"Thank you." He kissed her cheek and she smiled, placing her hand over his arms. "But I still think you should stay."

He could take a hint, so he didn't push it any further. Instead, they made their way back over to the couch. They started to take the food out of the bag, but Olivia was quickly distracted by her phone. By the time he finished, she was still standing in place, typing fervently with a small frown.

"Liv?"

She didn't answer.

"Livvie?"

She glanced up, flashing him a small smile. "Sorry, one second."

But one second turned into one minute, and he eventually plucked the phone from her hands.

"Fitz!"

"Sit. Eat. Work can wait."

She stared at him incredulously, but he merely stared back, eyebrows raised.

"Fine," she huffed, plopping down on the couch.

"Good." He grinned as he sat beside her, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

She eyed the spread on the table, then stood again. "They forgot utensils. I'll be right back."

As she made her way to the kitchen, her phone began to vibrate, one text lighting up her screen after the next. He glanced down at it in his hands, finding it still unlocked, and skimmed the messages over without thinking much of it.

Cyrus: Ok, meeting has been moved to tomorrow at 3.

Cyrus: Hopefully Ethan won't screw thay up too.

Cyrus: Next tome I'm calling you. My fingers are too damn fat to text on this phone

He chuckled, not in the least surprised that it was Cyrus blowing up her phone. But, suddenly, another message came through.

Lucia: Mr. Shaw went straight home tonight, but he's on board for Del Posto tomorrow. Should I make it a reservation for two?

He read the message a second time, then a third, a tight knot forming in his stomach.

"Ok, here we go."

He quickly put her phone to sleep and placed it back on the table as she re-entered from the kitchen.

"So how was–what's wrong?" She sat beside him, brows furrowed.

He didn't look at her, he didn't feel like he could. The questions settled around him, heavy as bricks, locking him in. Had that been what she and Lucia were meeting about? Was that why she hadn't wanted him to go?

"Fitz?" She placed a hand on his knee.

"I need some water." Quickly, he stood and headed for the kitchen. Once he was sure she hadn't followed, he leaned his hands onto the counter and took a deep breath. The rush of questions slowed until he was left with only one:

What the hell?

The thought of her planning to meet with Dean. The thought of her having dinner with him…

The last thing he wanted was to let his anger speak for him when he brought it up, and so, he stayed another minute, taking a few more deep breaths and eventually filling a glass with water before he walked back out.

"You ok?" Olivia asked worriedly from over the back of the couch.

He nodded, taking a long sip to avoid actually answering. She eyed him as he returned to his seat and then for a long moment afterwards. But still, he didn't say anything, and she instead turned her attention to her phone.

He watched her from the corner of her eye while she checked her messages. Afterwards, she turned to him with a smile.

"Good news is, I get to stay in tonight."

He turned to her and took in her smile – saw the way it made her eyes light up – and he had two thoughts simultaneously.

The first: that he was absolutely, irrefutably in love with her.

The second: that to lose her would be the worst kind of hurt he'd ever know.

And so, he couldn't bring himself to bring up the message – to even acknowledge the painful reality to which it might lead.

"Actually," he cleared his throat, "I'm not feeling too well. I think I might head out."

Olivia frowned, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

"You don't feel warm. When did it start?"

He stood from the couch and headed for the door, but she was right behind him. "I think I'm just overly tired," he offered, glancing back at her. "I'm sure it's nothing, but just in case, I don't want you to catch anything."

"Well, you don't have to go all the way back to your place," she grabbed his hand, starting to lead him back to the couch. "You can sleep in my bed and I can just sleep out here or–"

"I want to sleep in my own bed."

It came out harsher than he intended, and she immediately dropped his hand, taking a step back. "Oh."

"Liv," he sighed, "I didn't mean it like that–"

"Don't worry about it," she smiled, but this time it didn't make her eyes light up. "You're not feeling well, you want to be in your own space. I get it."

In that moment, he wanted to stay – to apologize and kiss her until her smiled turned genuine. But he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore his questions for long, and he had more than an inkling that he wouldn't like the answers.

When he didn't respond, she shifted her weight on her feet and glanced back at the table. "Do you want to take food back with you?"

He shook his head. "I'm good."

"Ok." They were silent for a moment, before she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Let me know when you get home?"

"Yeah." Nodding, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway without looking back. "Bye, Olivia."

He was mad at her.

She wasn't sure why, but after nearly a day of thinking it over, she was certain of it.

She had spent most of the morning convincing herself otherwise. She told herself she was simply being one of those girlfriends, the kind who complained when their partner didn't want to be glued to their side 24/7.

But, upon reading it again, his text the night before did seem cold; a simple Made it home, with none of the usual sugary sweet good night wishes that, coming from anyone else would make her cringe, but coming from him always made her grin like she was thirteen again.

And he had seemed standoffish when he left. He even called her Olivia. She couldn't remember the last time he had used her full name…

He was mad, she was certain of it, and she didn't like it.

So, that next afternoon, she decided to do something she never thought she would.

"So after you pour in your chopped vegetables, you can see how much more water you need to add– oh, well, it looks like we don't need more than those two cups I just used."

Olivia eyed her own pot with a proud smile, turning back to the video tutorial and skimming forward a few minutes to see just how much longer her chicken soup would take.

Never in a million years would she have imagined herself here, making a home-cooked meal for a man, but the idea had struck her on her way home, and – while she wasn't sure it couldn't be attributed to all the car fumes she had inhaled over the years – she had to admit that it wasn't the worst. When someone was under the weather you brought them soup, and when you wanted to show you really cared, you made things from scratch.

At least, that's how it seemed to work.

So, after a second try, there she was, turning off her stove and pouring the soup into the unused tupperware that sat in the back of one of her cabinets. And then, one train and a few blocks of walking later, she found herself outside his apartment.

Though she hadn't let herself dwell on it on her way over, she tried hard to think of what could have made him upset with her on the walk to his door. He had seemed fine when he got to her place the night before, and while she was a little distracted, she had been happy to see him, especially because they had barely spoken in the last few days.

She stopped walking as she was struck by realization.

That was it.

She hadn't purposefully been ignoring him. It was just that things were hectic between work and what she and Lucia had taken to calling the "D.S. Situation." In fact, she had spent the entire week preparing for tonight, when she'd confront Dean during what Lucia had told him was a blind date set up by his mother. The whole thing was a little dramatic for her taste, but she knew he'd never agree to meet her under the circumstances she preferred – a boardroom with her lawyer in tow – but, when in Rome…

With Lucia's help and scans of the documents in the folder, she had been able to do her due diligence. As it turned out, this wasn't the first time Tom Larsen and Lillian Forrester had teamed up. Although a bit of searching identified the former as a private investigator, he had no problem contributing as a witness to at least two of Lillian's past articles. Coincidentally, both were exposés on people who had previously had relations with the Shaw family.

By the time she was done looking into it all, she had enough dirt to bury every last one of them six feet under. She was sure that the threat of the media hellstorm she was prepared to unleash along with the inevitable defamation lawsuit – despite his and his sycophants' best efforts to avoid it – in the wake of the article's release would have Dean calling it off before the waiter even brought out their bread.

And when it was all said and done, she'd share it with Fitz, and they'd have a nice laugh about it all. Or maybe they wouldn't, but at least it would be behind them.

But she couldn't think that far ahead just yet. Right now, she had roughly ten minutes to fix things with Fitz, then she'd handle all the rest.

She knocked as soon as she made it to his door and smiled as she heard him call out, "Who is it?"

Instead of answering, she knocked again. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway.

"Liv?"

"Surprise." She smiled, holding up the tupperware for him to see. "I'm paying you back for last night."

But he didn't respond to that, instead looking her over, then stating plainly, "You look really nice."

Thrown off by his tone, she tried to keep the smile on her face. "Thanks. Are you feeling any better?"

"Huh?" He cleared his throat, "uh, yeah, a little."

"Well, I hope this helps." She handed him the dish. "I made it right after work and came straight over here. It's still a little warm."

That seemed to break the tension, and he looked at it with brows raised. "You made this?"

"I did," she laughed at his expression. "I followed a recipe on YouTube. Only took me two tries."

He chuckled, inspecting the soup closely. "It looks good, but I think I'd still like to see you try it first."

"I would, but I can't stay."

The way his face dropped as she said it confirmed her suspicions. He had to be mad because she hadn't been around.

Quickly, she added, "I can come back later, I mean, if you're not feeling too sick and want me to…"

"Where are you going?"

Normally, she wouldn't have minded his asking, but something about the way he said it told her there was more to the question. Her own smile fell. "What?"

"Why can't you stay? Where are you going?"

She could hear it now, the underlying accusation in his questions, and crossed her arms. "What are you asking me, Fitz?"

His eyes narrowed. "It's a simple question, Olivia."

"No," she tilted her head, "I know what you're saying, but what are you asking? What do you want to know?"

And then, he laughed – just a few, quiet chuckles, but enough to reveal the frustration behind his amusement. She watched him, her face growing hot with her own annoyance.

"I don't know, Liv," he said eventually. "Is there something you think I should know?"

She stared at him long and hard, sighing before she responded, "Look, I know I've been a little preoccupied lately, and I'm just trying to make up for it." She took a step back from the doorway, deciding it'd be best to give him space. "Enjoy the soup and let me know if you want me to come back later. I have to go." She started walking back down the hallway, but his next words stopped her in place.

"To dinner with Dean." She turned around quickly to find him still in the doorway, frowning, "Right? That's where you have to go, isn't it?"

"Fitz–"

"Is that why you were meeting with Lucia? Has she just been passing notes between you two?"

She hurried back over to him. "Fitz, wait. It's not like that–"

"Well, please, tell me what it's like, Liv, because I've been trying to figure it out."

They both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, remaining quiet as his neighbors, an older couple, approached their door and glanced at them curiously. Fitz breathed in deeply and opened his door wider, moving aside to let her walk in.

The moment he closed the door and they were face to face again, she gestured at him, "Is that what all of this is about?"

He looked confused. "All of what?"

"You, being all passive aggressive."

He grimaced, but quickly recovered. "This isn't about me. This is about Lucia making reservations for you and your ex."

By the time he finished, she had already pulled out her phone and started to scroll through it. He watched her, merely growing more frustrated at the sight.

"Liv? Are you serious right now?" He asked incredulously. "Are we really not going to talk about this?"

"Here." Rather than respond, she shoved her phone – opened to scans of the same documents she'd seen in the folder – into his hands. "This is why I'm going to meet with him." She watched as he read it over, his brows furrowing. "It's an article he's been planning to run about us. He's going to accuse you of trying to steal from the company and me of being the bimbo who didn't know any better than to go along with all of it. He's had someone follow us and everything." She shook her head, her anger shifting to Dean and growing tenfold. "It's all bullshit–"

"Not all of it."

She grew quiet, then asked finally, "What?"

"Well, me punching him is true, it's just not the full story…"

"Exactly, it's not the full story, which is why we can hit them back–"

"And I did take money from the car the same night we met." He looked up from her phone shyly, as if ashamed, and handed it back to her. "I returned it that Monday, though."

The logical part of her knew even that still wasn't a big deal. Worst came to worst, it was easy to spin it and say that he had just been holding the money so that it didn't sit in the car all weekend. But another part of her, the part at which he had managed to chip away, leaving behind a jumble of feelings and vulnerabilities, couldn't help but wonder whether there was more truth to the article than she'd thought.

"Why?" She broke the heavy silence settling around them.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Why did I take the money?"

But that wasn't what she meant, and she could tell that he knew.

"Liv," he groaned, "don't tell me you believe any of the rest of this."

"Why did you come up to me that night?"

"You said it yourself, it's bullshit."

"They said you guys stopped by my apartment earlier that day–"

"I can't believe you really think–"

"Did you already know who I was the night we met?"

"No, damnit!"

She jumped, and they both stared at each other, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry," he cleared his throat, looking away. "I...I didn't mean to raise my voice like that." When she didn't say anything, he continued, "Everything about us, about how we met is real. They're just twisting things to…." he huffed frustratedly. "I wish you had shown this to me earlier."

Olivia released a deep breath, shaking her head. "It's ok. It's already taken care of. After I meet with Dean tonight–"

"So you just decided that on your own?"

Her eyes narrowed at his tone. "Huh?"

"Were you even going to tell me that all of this was happening?"

"Yes," she suddenly felt defensive, "of course."

"When?"

"Fitz–"

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked more emphatically.

"I've had a lot on my plate, and I just wanted to make sure I had a handle on it."

"And you don't think I could've helped?" His voice grew louder again. "I asked you what was going on right after you found all of this out, and you just kept me completely in the dark–"

"Do not talk to me about keeping things from you, especially when you were what? Going through my messages? Trying to keep tabs on me?" Her own anger erupted without warning and she advanced upon him.

"That's not what happened at all. I'm not some overbearing asshole, Liv, you know that. I just so happened to see one text, which wouldn't have even been a problem if you weren't hiding it from me!"

"I wasn't hiding it. I was–"

"Handling it, I know." By now, they were so close she could feel his heavy breaths hitting her face. "That's what you do, Livvie, you handle. You fix."

She winced at the intensity of his words – at the clear hurt underlying them – and took a step back to regain her composure. "I was trying to help. I was trying to protect us, protect you!"

"I'm not a child! You don't handle things for me." He closed the gap between them once more. "That's not a relationship. That's control."

She wanted to step back again, but his words stung deep, and she found that she could only stay in place, staring up at him.

As if immediately sensing how deep he had cut, Fitz's expression changed. His anger dissolved to fully reveal, at last, the hurt just beneath.

"We said we were in this together." He spoke softly now. "We're supposed to be a team."

She swallowed hard and, feeling unable to meet his gaze, shifted hers to a point just beyond his head.

But, immediately, he gently grabbed her chin and guided her eyes back to his. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then took in a deep breath before he finally spoke again, "I need us to be a team because I love you…"

Deja vu. It was the only way she could describe hearing those words from his lips for the first time. An overwhelming sensation of life rejoining with a piece it hadn't even known was gone. In that moment, she could have sworn that she had heard him say he loved her every day of her life.

"...I wake up every morning and can't remember what it's like to not have you in my life. And it's not just that I can't, I don't want to. I love you, Liv, so I need us to be a team."

For a few seconds after he finished, it looked like he was going to be sick. And when she didn't respond, he dropped his hand and took a step back.

But, before he could even gain his footing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into her, kissing him with an intensity of affection she didn't know she could possess.

She loved him.

He could feel it in the way her lips melded, again and again, with his. He could feel it in the way she held onto the back of his head, desperately pulling him closer, even when there was no space left between them.

It made his heart soar, and, for a moment, he couldn't help but feel like his euphoria might carry him away – send him drifting right out of her arms until he realized it was all only a dream. But her nails grazed his scalp as his kisses moved to her neck, and he instantly knew it wasn't.

They were both frantic in a way they hadn't been before. She pulled him from her neck, her lips drifting across his cheek to keep the contact before reconnecting to his. He slid his hands across her back, then gripped her waist, then hoisted her up so that her legs wrapped around him, desperate to have her as close as possible.

He didn't remember carrying her over to his bed. Or stripping them both down to their underwear or unhooking her bra.

But he was certain he'd always remember the sound she made with his mouth on her breasts. And how fucking gorgeous she looked watching him kiss down her stomach, how she recoiled with a giggle when he made it just below her belly button because she was ticklish. And how she looked at him all the while – with a tenderness that stirred his soul and would, he knew in that moment, stay lodged in his heart for the rest of eternity.

And he prayed he'd never be left to rely on memory alone of the way she tasted. Her panties flung to who-knows-where and his face between her thighs, he knew he'd be content to live out his days like this.

He was going to drive her insane. She was sure of it.

Every kiss, every flick of his tongue, the way he–

Fuck.

She'd never be able to think straight again. That was the only coherent thought she could have as her hips rose off the bed and she came hard, with a shudder and something between a gasp and a moan.

She was still breathing hard when he finally emerged from between her thighs, a wide grin on his face. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"What?" She breathed out.

He shook his head. "You're amazing."

Both their smiles grew as he lowered himself onto her, touching his forehead to hers. The playfulness fell away as he started to rub himself against her and her hands traced the waistband of his underwear.

"I.." she started, then swallowed a moan as he pecked her lips, letting her just barely taste the traces of herself on him. "My shot," she tried again, "I didn't get it yet…"

She knew they were too far gone to stop. As he pressed his arousal into hers, she knew that not getting to feel all of him was no longer an option. They'd just have to go old school, he'd just have to pull out…

But, to her surprise, he leaned over and reached into the single drawer of his bedside table, producing a condom.

"I got a box after last week." He flashed her a grin. "Just in case."

She bit down on her lip and, without saying anything, grabbed the condom and went back to work on his underwear. He was quick to help her, pulling it down and freeing himself entirely. Her breath hitched at the sight.

He was a beautiful man. She knew that already. But seeing him like this, bare and fully erect for her, made her ache with a desire so intense she couldn't remember what it was to feel anything else.

She reached for him, took him in her hand and stroked gently. He groaned immediately, his hips jerking towards her. Her let her continue for a moment, before he grabbed her wrist and stilled her movements. At the same time, he snatched up the condom, now forgotten and lying beside her, and ripped the package open.

He moved so quickly that she barely had time to register what was happening before he was lying back atop her, lining himself up with her entrance. She became so wrapped up in the anticipation that it took her a few seconds to realize that he was staring at her, waiting with a look of pained patience.

Without his having to say, she understood what he was waiting on, and her need for him grew impossibly stronger. He made it so easy to say yes. And so, she nodded, finally giving him the permission he was looking for.

Being inside her was like nothing he had ever experienced in life.

He moved slowly at first, watching her face for signs of discomfort. Then, when there weren't any, when she wrapped her legs even tighter around him and lifted her hips readily into his, they fell into a rhythm – natural and fervent and entirely intoxicating.

He kissed her fiercely, then pulled away to hear her moans, her sighs – every beautiful, "Yes." and "Oh god" that fell from her lips. He welcomed the feel of her fingers digging into his back and growled when her hand grabbed his ass and pushed him further into her. He grinned at her little gasps when he'd duck his head below, taking her breast in his mouth, and delighted in her soft whimpers when he sucked the sensitive spot on her neck.

He had never been so close so fast, had never felt so amazingly disoriented. His body no longer felt entirely his own; it felt like part of hers, trying eagerly, endlessly to find its way home.

"Livvie?" His voice was gruff as he called out, his lips still on her neck. He knew he wouldn't last too much longer. "You...you close?"

She placed a hand on the back of his head and tugged softly to lift his head until they were face to face. "Uh-huh," she panted, leaning up to capture his mouth with hers. "So close," she mumbled against his lips.

She cried out a moment later, as he lowered his hand between them, touching her until, at last, she–

"Fuck, Fitz...yes!"

He came immediately afterwards, stronger than he ever had in his entire life. There was a brief moment when the world blurred and he thought – way, way in the back of his mind – that he'd be perfectly fine if this was how it all ended.

And when it had passed, eventually – he wasn't sure just how long it had been – he found himself collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily.

He looked up at her, and when she finally opened her eyes, they said the same thing he knew his did:

Holy shit.

Broad grins lit up their faces at the silent exchange, quickly evolving into laughter.

"That was…"

"Insane," he supplied for her, and they laughed even harder.

It was a while before they grew quiet again, and as they did, he shifted their positions so that she was lying on top of him, head on his chest. She started to draw shapes on his skin and he sighed, reveling in how absolutely perfect the moment felt.

And just when he was sure it couldn't get any better, she stopped and looked up at him.

"Fitz?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you, too. I'm in love with you, too."

He didn't know what he expected his reaction to be, but the tears that sprang to his eyes caught him by surprise. He blinked to clear them, then pulled her in closer and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.

For so long, he had accepted that things were just destined to go wrong for him. Wrong father, wrong career, wrong spouse. Yet now, with her in his arms, he felt he truly had the power to make things right.

"You're the first right thing in my life." He felt intoxicated with a joy that – as it seemed to always be the case when it came to her – he had never before experienced, and the words simply spilled out. "I want you to know that. I need you to know that."

And although he didn't say it, he knew he had told her not just that he needed her to know that; he had told her that needed her, plain and simple.

After a long moment, tears shining, too, in her eyes, she nodded, "Ok."

"Ok?"

She cupped his cheek, stroking it tenderly. "You were right. We should be a team. We are a team."

He leaned into her touch and smiled at her words. Suddenly, she wasn't close enough and he bent forward to kiss her gently, just barely pulling back as he spoke against her lips, "Ok."

A/N: It's been forever since I updated, so I didn't want to hold up the chapter with a long note at the beginning. I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who's reached out to me, either through messages or in the reviews about updating this story, because it really did motivate me to get this chapter out. This update took way longer than I had originally planned, partially because I planned this chapter as two separate parts, but I couldn't find a place where I wanted to stop (and, since I had taken so long since the last update, I wanted to give you guys a longer chapter).

With all of that out of the way, I hope the wait was worth it. Lots of stuff (finally) went down this chapter. Liv and Fitz are just getting started, Lucia has been brought into the fold, and Dean has been...being Dean. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I'm not sure when I'll get the next update out, but hopefully it will be sometime in the not too distant future.