AN: Saw a picture of Tony Goldwyn with scruff and short hair. Designer/Contractor AU had to happen.

But first, I've gotten a lot of messages about my stories. I deleted them and honestly never thought I would write FF, especially Scandal FF again. Couple reasons why: 1. I don't update, so I didn't think anyone would notice. 2. I was probably not going to finish the stories I started because of lack of time, inspiration, and totally forgetting where I was going with the stories to begin with. 3. I wasn't particularly proud of a lot of that writing. That being said, thanks to everyone who messaged me and I truly appreciate you reading what I write. I'm working to get put them in a PDF and will share on my Tumblr

In Olivia Pope's mind shiplap might be the most overrated word in the English language. Okay, maybe not the English language, but certainly overrated in the construction world. Recently, all of her clients wanted shiplap walls, farmhouse sinks, and concrete countertops. She shouldn't have been surprised when her newest client, Jane Frazier, an empty-nester with a big wallet and even bigger demands, suggested "a modern farmhouse look" for her vacation home in rural Nashville.

With a folding table in front of her, Olivia sat across from Jane, in what would become a massive open kitchen. They had been poring over floor plans and light fixtures for a better part of an hour. Olivia loved her job, and she was great at it, but she would never get used to high maintenance and highly opinionated clients like Jane, especially during preliminary designer-contractor meetings.

"I'm thinking we could add a barn door to close off the pantry," Jane suggested while pointing at a wall-less, empty corner of the kitchen.

"Sure," we could do that Olivia agreed reluctantly. Tapping her manicured nails on the table, her diamond tennis bracelet gently brushing against the table's plastic edges, she thought of a gentle way to redirect Jane. "Or," she continued.

"And what about white subway tile there," Jane interjected, her eyes turning to what could be her future sink.

"That. That's an idea," Olivia replied. Feigning interest in Jane's cliche suggestions wasn't easy.

"When do you think we will have all this done? It's hard to see myself living here...when it's like this." Jane asked.

Olivia looked around the room. It was bare-bones with no flooring, no appliances, no cabinetry.

"Well hopefully we can knock the kitchen out in a week or two, but that will depend on your contractor. Shouldn't he be here by now?" Olivia asked, peeking at her watch. She wasn't a particularly patient person, and she hated when meetings were delayed. Jane was very adamant that she meet with the contractor in person instead of conferencing from her D.C. office like she would have preferred.

Before Jane could respond, they heard tapping on the door.

"That's probably him," Jane said as she stood to leave the room and answer the door. "You will love him," she whispered as she exited.

"Doubtful," Olivia said under her breath. She'd rarely met a general contractor that didn't annoy her. And typically, she only worked with her own in-house contractor, one she had known for years, but he wasn't licensed in Tennessee. Even if he were, Jane preferred using her own. The idea of working with a new contractor, out of state, with a client who was proving to have bad taste made her second guess her decision to take the job.

The faint chatter down the hall let her know that the new contractor was approaching. She sat up in her chair, straightend her blue blouse and crisp white skirt, and tried to hide the annoyance she knew was spreading across her face.

"Here he is," Jane said with a smile and a towering man behind her. "Liv, this is Fitz. He did all of over renovations in Santa Barbara. He took a literal dumpster fire of a cottage in Montecito and turned it into the vacay spot of her our dreams," Jane said adoringly.

"And Fitz, this is Olivia Pope. You won't find a better designer on the east coast. She was in last month's Southern Living. Her work is incredible."

Modestly, "That's very sweet," Olivia replied.

"Well it's the truth. And I'm so excited to have the best of the best working on our home. My sister, Ruth Ann, just flipped a ranch house in Brentwood, but I know ours will be so much better with y'alls help. Which reminds me, I need to show you two my Pinterest boards. I've got a lot of ideas. I'll go grab my iPad. Be right back," Jane said so quickly they barely processed her words. She left the room just as fast, leaving Fitz and Olivia alone.

Olivia gave him a once over. It may have been a stereotype, but Fitz didn't look like any contractor she worked with in the past. Though he looked like he missed a couple weeks of shaving, his cardigan and and fitted jeans gave him a causal yet polished look. He looked like more of an investor type not someone who would take a sledgehammer to drywall. She had to admit he was handsome.

He caught the glare she was throwing his way, taking in her a-line skirt, four inch nude heels, and the fact that not a single hair on her head was out of place. He smiled and extended his hand.

Ending their stare down, she stood and shook his hand. "Should I expect you to arrive an hour late to all of our meetings?" Olivia asked as she let go of his firm grasp. Her tone let him know that she was not one to take lightly. She glanced at her watch and looked back at him.

He chuckled and smugly responded, "Air traffic control is kind of out of my hands, but I'm sorry a delayed flight has inconvenienced you."

She sighed and shook her head, realizing bickering with him was not going to make this job go any faster or any easier. They needed to get to work. She adjusted her tone and said, "As I'm sure you know, we have a tight timeline, and I'd like to get the bathroom and kitchen re-plumbed first. That's always-"

"I'm very aware of the timeline, Miss Pope," he said abruptly.

"Good. So having the kitchen done in seven days won't be a problem?"

"It shouldn't be."

"And all the bathrooms?"

Her doubt sounded a bit like condescension. Fitz could handle someone doubting his work, but being patronized was hard to handle.

He took a step toward to her, wanting to be direct. "Listen, I don't know how your projects normally run, but when you're working with me, if you stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours. So you can pick out your little chandeliers and your backsplash tile and I'll make sure everything is installed and working properly."

"'Little chandeliers' Is that what you think I do?" she asked, seemingly surprised by his arrogance.

He scoffed and folded his arms. "How much are they paying you for this gig? Because I have an intern I could send to Home Depot and West Elm to do your job for free," he replied.

Her voice elevated. Her posture straightened. She moved closer to him. "Oh really? I'm pretty sure I could probably find a Section 8 Super who'd actually show up on time and could do your job for a fraction of what you're getting paid, yet here you are."

Fitz was not one to back down and didn't care about personal space. He inched nearer to her. "I know we're in the sticks, but maybe you could pull one from out of your ass so we can do get this job done."

With her mouth agape, Olivia was past the point of seeing red. No one in her professional life had ever spoken to her like that. "Are you fu-"

"Fitz. Liv. I'm so sorry about that. Where were we?" Jane interrupted. The tension was completely lost on her.

Olivia took a step back and a deep breath, brushing the wrinkles out of her skirt, needing something to do with her hands. She couldn't remember the last time someone got a rise out of her so quickly. Gathering her composure, she wasn't sure how she was going to get through the next two months.

AN: I've actually been thinking about writing this story outside of Scandal characters, but decided why not. I know where I'm going with this one, and while I can't say how regularly I'll update, I'm definitely motivated to write it. Would love to hear your thoughts.