Lying in Fitz's arms was usually her safe haven, the one place in the world she felt the most content, and completely herself, but tonight she was suffocating in his embrace. She suspected he was drifting off already, but her mind wouldn't settle, the specifics of what she had just agreed to turning over and over in her brain, keeping her from sleep. Marrying him was the smart option, she knew that. It's what she would advise any of her clients to do and really, she would do anything in her power to keep him in office, to keep them all from going to prison. She thinks Fitz knows it too, deep down, that getting married like this isn't what they had always dreamed of. They haven't reached their 'one day'.This was a desperate attempt to save themselves, before they were ready, and with the entire world scrutinising them. Sighing, she gave up on any thoughts of sleep, and tipped her head back to look at the man who was consuming her thoughts.

"Fitz?" she asks, unsure if he was still awake.

He blinks a few times, fighting against unconsciousness before answering, "Mmm?"

"Can we have a real wedding... after? When we're ready?"

Fitz rubs a hand over his face, completely awake now, and shifts so that he's leaning his weight on his right elbow, reaching out to gently caress her cheek with his left hand. He wordlessly communicates his confusion at her question and she sighs again, sitting up properly in the bed upon the realisation that this would have to be a real conversation and not something he nonchalantly agrees to.

"I never really allowed myself to imagine our wedding," she begins softly. "It hurt too much to think about my life with you most of the time, before you were mine."

She glances down to make sure she's not wounding him too much with this admission, but he nods gently, encouraging her to go on.

"Sometimes, I'd dream about it," she continues, a faraway look in her eyes as her mind dangles the memories teasingly at the forefront of her brain for a fleeting second. "It would be small, just us, your kids, my team, and we would manage to hide it from the press, at least beforehand. I'd wear white and you would wear a tux, and you wouldn't be able to hold back your tears once your eyes caught mine. We would write our own vows and they would be the most important speech either of us would ever give and when we were finally pronounced husband and wife, you'd kiss me like…" she pauses, drawing in a breath around her involuntary smile, "like we had finally made it. Like all of the secrets and the fighting and the heartbreak was worth it because we were finally where we were supposed to be."

When she finishes, he reaches up to wipe away a tear she hadn't realised was falling with his thumb. He understands what she's trying to say but he doesn't stop her. It's so rare that she really lets him know what she's thinking, and he doesn't want to do anything that might discourage her now.

"You don't think we're ready to get married?" he probes gently.

She looks down, fiddling with her engagement ring before meeting his gaze.

"Fitz," she sighs, "we both know we're not ready to get married. I love you, and I know you love me, but we have a lot of things we need to work through, and the entire world to watch us work through them. This, right here? This isn't where we're meant to be. I want to think we can get there, but we're not, and we won't be. Not before the impeachment hearings. So, this?" she wiggles her ring finger for emphasis. "This is a formality, okay? It's not our wedding, it's just what needs to happen to keep you in office."

She's right. He knows she's right, she always is, but the hopeless romantic in him can't help but be slightly crushed at the thought that being in love isn't the only factor for them to consider for getting married.

"Okay," he agrees, pulling her into his embrace once more. "We'll have a real wedding when we're ready. This one doesn't count."

"Thank you, Fitz," she breathes into his chest, wrapping her arm tighter around him.

He can tell from her breathing that she is trying not to sob, and he gathers her small frame impossibly closer to him, placing a kiss into her hair, then another, and another. He hates how difficult this has all been for her, but he's so glad she allows herself to be vulnerable around him. He only ever wants what's best for her, but sometimes she can be so hard to read. The press have been ruthless, tearing apart her entire life even though he was the one who was unfaithful, and he can't believe she's still choosing him despite that. He's so incredibly grateful she's still choosing him despite everything. He knows that she's struggling with the concept of being the First Lady. This isn't the life she wants, she as much as admitted that on national television, and so he makes the decision as he lies there to do everything in his power to make her sacrifices worth it.

They're married in the oval office three days later. It doesn't feel right, or special, or even real. It feels like a business transaction, like she's just signing a clause that allows her to refrain from incriminating Fitz. In reality, that's really all it is, and it almost kills her to go through with it, because they are special and right and real, and they deserve a wedding that reflects that. She wears a white, form fitting, off shoulder cocktail dress, her hair in loose waves around her shoulders because they need a photo for the press release. Afterwards, they get on with their day as normal. Fitz still has a country to run, and Olivia, as she likes to tell him, has the world to save, so that's what they do. If Liv's team is shocked that she's in the office hours after getting married, they don't show it, and for that she's grateful.

Six months later, Fitz is in the Oval when a message gets through to him that his wife needs to speak to him urgently. He panics, until Lauren add that she's been told there is nothing to worry about, but that Olivia wants him to meet her in the residence. He finds the request odd. They've made a lot of progress since their impromptu wedding, learning to communicate better with each other, and figuring out when best to seek each other out, or whether the other person needs to be alone. They've discussed their plans for after Fitz's presidency, both individually and together, and he thinks they're in a really good place. He knows she does too, because they talk about these things now. Even still, if Liv wants him in the middle of the day, she usually comes to find him herself, but he knows she wouldn't ask for him for no reason, so he puts on his jacket, signaling to his agents that he was leaving.

She's pacing the room when he enters the room, so caught up in whatever is on her mind that he has to clear his throat to get her attention. Her face lights up when she notices him, and she makes her way over to where he's standing.

"You summoned me?" he says amusedly, one eyebrow raised, his head tilted slightly to the left.

"I did," she agrees. "Hi."

"Hi."

There's a nervous excitement radiating off her, so when she takes both his hands in hers he squeezes them gently, partly in question, partly in an effort to calm her.

"Liv, what's going on?" He asks her. "You look like you're about to burst."

She looks down bashfully, the most beautiful smile taking over her features, the kind she reserves only for him, before she returns her gaze to him.

"I want to ask you a question."

"A question so important you couldn't wait until I was done for the day?" He's teasing her and it makes her giggle.

"Yes," she grins. "It's that important."

When she doesn't expand, Fitz settles her hands on his waist, removing them from his grasp, and drawing her closer by her hips.

"Well, are you going to ask it?"

She nods, sliding her hands up his chest, settling them on his shoulders before reaching around to run her fingers through the curls at the back of his head.

"Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third," she begins softly, "will you marry me?"

"Livvie," he chuckles, "I' not sure if you remember, but we're already married."

She silences his laugh with a chaste kiss, framing his face with her hands to draw his attention to her, ensuring he could see the sincerity in her gaze.

"Can you be serious for a second? I'm trying to be romantic here. I know we're married. I'm asking - will you marry me again for no other reason than we love each other, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side? I want to wake up beside you every morning, and fall asleep in your arms every night. I want to go on vacation with you, and then come home with you. I want us to make new memories and curl up together to reminisce about old ones. I want to build a life with you. So, will you marry me again, in front of our friends and family, because you're the love of my life?"

He's beaming by the time she's finished, unable to turn his lips down enough to speak, so he settles for gathering her into his embrace, easily lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. Liv buries her face in his neck, squeezing him closer and laughing freely. When he stills them, she pulls away, wiping away a tear from her cheek before pressing her forehead to his.

"Can I take that as a yes?" she breathes into his mouth.

"That's a yes," he confirms. "A thousand times yes, Liv. You know I'd marry you everyday if I could."

This time she doesn't bother to wipe her tears away, they're falling too fast, and she doesn't care anyway. She's getting to marry this incredible man for real, and the thought of it is causing her heart to do somersaults in her chest.

"I love you," she tells him, before crashing her lips to his once more.

"I love you, too, beautiful," he returns between kisses. "And for the record, you can interrupt all of my future meetings you want if it's to propose to me."

She throws her head back in laughter, and he wonders how in the world he got so lucky as to fall in love with this incredible woman and have her love him back, but he knows he can't wait to grow old with her.