A/N: So, I decided to throw my hat into the ring. This story picks up after the final interaction between Liv & Fitz in episode 7 of season 1. I have a lot I think I want to say about Olivia's self-critique of her relationship with Fitz. Fears that have come to the surface that go beyond being exposed in a public forum, breaking up a family, etc. Anyway, Critiques are more than welcome. If this story is well-received, I will continue and will try to update several times a week (mostly on the weekends). Thanks in advance!

P.S.: If anyone can tell me how to categorize this story under 'Scandal', I'd really appreciate it. LOL!

CHAPTER 1

She took a deep breath, trying to subdue the nausea she felt in her gut, before answering the phone in as even a voice as she could muster.

"This is me..."

"Fuck you!" Fitz spat uncharacteristically.

She just breathed, quietly, not wanting to give him more cause to curse her, as if she needed it. She just sat there, almost willing him to calm down and find the determination to be reasonable.

Truth is, she needed more time to gather her thoughts. She didn't know what to say to him now. In this moment she more than regretted answering the phone. But she was finally tired of running away from everything. She knew he needed to hear her say... anything. Anything that made any sense. She needed it too. She was just so depleted. In all her life, she had never felt so cold, alone, scared, and broken.

She began quietly, almost too quiet for him to make out her words and with shakiness and hurt in her voice that even surprised her...

"Fitz..." she sighed, "I don't wanna fight. Please? Enough is enough."

"Fuck that. What just went down... it's not nearly e-"

"How long?..." There was silence for a moment as he processed her question.

"W-what?" he asked, astounded that she had the gall to interrupt him.

"How LONG, goddammit!" she heard herself scream as the hurt and anger rose in her throat, mixing with the nausea.

Olivia sniffed noticeably, fighting against the deluge. She swiped at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, her face contorted. She bit down painfully hard on her bottom lip to keep from making a tell tale sound. She didn't want to hear his voice. It was killing her. How dare he push so much. He was always pushing so damn much. And now, on top of everything, he had the nerve to try to play dumb. It was infuriating… and exhausting.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fitz growled out, truly overcome by everything... confusion, rage, growing fatigue.

"How long has your wife known about US?"

Fitz' eyes popped open as if he had just been hit in the face with a bucket of ice cold water. Of course…

He quickly got up from where he was seated on the plush couch fronting his desk, and walked over to the French doors searching for nothing in particular along the twinkling D.C. skyline.

"Olivia..." Fitz sighed and bowed his head, tightly squeezing his eyes shut, as if attempting to block out the image from yesterday; the image of Liv walking out on him. It kept playing over and over in his head like a cruel silent movie.

"No..." Liv whimpered as she shook her head. She couldn't help it now. No one was around to see her unravel. The hot, messy tears just flowed like miniature rivers down her cheeks.

"No... she KNEW and she plowed right over me, Fitz!" Her tears flowed freely now and thanks to the weeping melody of her words she couldn't hide her utter despair. Olivia clutched her chest over her heart as if to cover a wound that was letting all of the blood from her body. She was nearly doubled over, her body racked with uncontrollable tremors.

Fitz just listened to the sounds on the other end of the phone. It took every bit of strength he had in his body to keep from breaking down into sobs that matched hers. His chest heaved up and down as he tried to choke back the emotion, the guilt, and even resentment, her cries were setting ablaze inside of him. He just listened, roughly rubbing his hand back and forth across his forehead, not knowing how to comfort her now. He wanted to so desperately, but too much had happened and he wouldn't just allow himself to slip back into the mindset of Olivia's concerned ex-lover. He needed answers. He needed to inflict pain the way she had. He wasn't going to let up. She owed him.

"Olivia… you went to HER. This wasn't my doing. This was the last thing I wanted. And I'm tired of saying it! I'm tired of defending myself to YOU of all people! I'm tired of breaking down first and telling you what I want and how I feel! I'm tired of everyone taking a chunk of me for themselves, except for the one person in this world I thought would stand with me… finally… no matter what! I'm tired of loving you more than you love me!" He paused, each deep breath burning the inside of his chest like he was fighting to swim to the top of a ten foot wave.

"You were supposed to be my friend." The way he said the word 'friend' broke Olivia's heart. "You went to her and you made a deal… A deal! So whatever lies she filled your head with… whatever clever game you decided to try to play with her… well, sounds like you got gamed. Mellie played you! Don't fucking blame me!"

And there it was. For all of his "courting" of Olivia throughout the campaign and during the years she worked for him in the White House, Fitz was weary. He had everything to lose, so did she, but he was the only one making moves and pouring his heart out to her time after time after time, expressing his earnest willingness to leave it all behind… for her… if he had to. In a way, she didn't believe he really meant it and he knew that, and that's what really killed him. Not that he wouldn't go through with it. She was convinced he'd grow to resent her after a few years and she had told him as much. He couldn't say enough, look into her eyes long enough, make love to her tenderly enough to convince her otherwise. He felt… wasted. Everything he ever thought he wanted… growing more meaningless by the day. Everything he knew he wanted with his every fiber… impossible, unattainable. Fitz had begun to think over the past 14 or 15 hours that he was surely going to spiral into mental illness from this agony.

Olivia had been silent on the other end for too long. Her crying had stopped. She had heard every cutting word Fitz had just said, and for the first – actually second – time in her life she just couldn't respond satisfactorily. He was right. She played right into his wife's hands. Handed her her victory. She wasn't prepared for that. Liv thought she had it all figured out. Now, she was at a loss for words with Fitz. Her love. The only person in the world she loved this much and she couldn't even pinpoint how any of it happened… the attraction, the sex, the love. How did she get so far gone? How had things spiraled so out of control?

She was sitting on her couch in front of her t.v. with the sound on mute, pretend-looking out of her glass patio doors at the same D.C. skyline in Fitz' line of sight. Her chin and mouth were scrunched up into the palm of her hand, all being held up by her elbow as it dug down into her thigh. The other hand held her blackberry up to her ear. She sat there still as death, her puffy red eyes glazed over. She was tired too. Tired of crying herself to sleep at night. Tired of lying and keeping secrets from the people she shared her life with, every day… her staff at Pope & Associates. She didn't really have any family – no one who lived close by or whom she spoke to regularly. She didn't have any friends, just associates. Her only friend had been Fitz. It was always dysfunctional but in a way it was the friendship she had dreamt of. The only kind that a lover could provide. The closest, most intimate, most meaningful friendship of her life and thanks to Mellie's revelation, it had all turned into a lie.

It had occurred to Olivia – accurate or not – that Fitz and Mellie had conspired together to keep him 'satisfied' enough to maintain his willingness to remain in office and do his duty. Liv wasn't only the fixer, they'd agreed. She was the confidant, the bed warmer, the courtesan. Her purpose was to please the President. Keep him well rested. Keep the honest smile on his face, glimmer in his eye, pep in his step. Olivia thought back over Mellie's words from the previous day and lurched from her nearly catatonic position on the couch into the kitchen just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the trash can. After a few more dry heaves, she slid to the cool kitchen floor and sat with her back up against the cabinets of the center island. She was breathing so hard that she was nearly hyperventilating, a clammy perspiration overtaking her forehead and the back of her neck. Still with the phone stuck to one ear, she pulled her knees up close to her and put her head in between them to regulate her breathing.

"Liv?" Fitz couldn't feign indifference at hearing her get sick on the other end of the line after what seemed like an eternity of dead silence. "Olivia!... are you alright?" Fitz said in a more stern and frantic tone than he intended.

"No." He heard her say, finally. "Not really. But I will be. I'm not your mistress any-more. Of course, physically, she hadn't been in some time, but emotionally… that was another story. "I'm too good for that, even with you. That's why I did it. At the end of the day, that's all that matters."

She told halve truths. Olivia had choked out the words in the weakest spirit Fitz had ever heard. They didn't feel honest because she sounded so weak and said them with only half a heart. But Olivia didn't care anymore. All she could seem to think of now was how tired she was. She needed rest, just in life overall, and she couldn't do that tethered to Fitz.

Next, all he heard was the silence of a disconnected phone call. He could feel the fire boil up from the tips of his toes and fingers through to the top of his head. His vision went blurry and he closed his eyes again, leaning his forehead against the cool marble molding surrounding the French doors of the Oval Office. That was it. He was done with her. He'd never talk to her again.

A/N: Again, thanks for reading. If anyone is concerned, please know that in my opinion Fitz & Liv belong together (eventually) NO MATTER WHAT. *devious smile*