A/N: Hey everyone, this takes place around 5x05. Enjoy and review!

Fitz glances around the elevator crowded with secret service agents. His attention snaps to the elevator doors as they open to the lobby outside Olivia's hallway. He watches as secret service positions themselves and then knocks when he gets the nod from Peter. The door flys open.

"Hi." Olivia is gorgeous in a pale pink dress, but she's also missing a high heel and slightly out of breath.

"Hi." Fitz's smile widens. "So you're ready then." He gestures to her appearance.

"Very funny Mister." She walks off towards her bedroom leaving Fitz at her door. He nods at Peter before following Olivia into the apartment. "I can't find my shoe. It was right here."

Fitz glances around before taking a seat on her white sofa. He loves being in her apartment. He still feels like he's making up for lost time. All the time he couldn't spend a quiet night in with her or take her out to dinner.

He hears some shuffling and then a loud thud from the bedroom. With a small smile he makes his way to the bedroom doorway. Olivia is on her hands and knees digging through the bottom of her closet. "You know we can stay in tonight, right?"

Olivia glances over her shoulder to see Fitz leaning against her doorframe in a crisp suit, his flag pin proudly displayed. "What?"

"We don't have to go out."

"We have reservations."

"So?"

"Fitz. The nicest restaurant in D.C. shut down so that we could go have dinner tonight."

"The restaurant will be nicely compensated regardless of whether we go."

Olivia sighs as she stands up. "We're going." Olivia walks over to the other side of her bed. "There is a chorus of press outside my building waiting for us to go on our very public date. A date that has been scheduled for 3 weeks."

Fitz pushes off the doorframe and places his hands on Olivia's shoulders. With a sigh she turns around to face him. She's resigned to go a few rounds with him over this. "You hate this part, Liv."

"Fitz-"

"No. Listen to me. You're a fixer. You've been fixing the optics of our relationship. And you're great at it. The best. But you hate going on the dates."

"I don't hate-"

Fit pointedly looks over her shoulder to the missing shoe under her nightstand. "This is the second time you couldn't find your shoe and two dates ago you spent an hour looking for a matching earring." Olivia opens her mouth before closing it again. "Let's stay in tonight."

"It doesn't look good, Fitz. Wasting tax dollars on a restaurant you never show up to because you'd rather stay in and screw your-."

"Don't."

Olivia sighs and places her hands on his lapels. "We're going."

Fitz tightens his grip on her waist. "You're not the only one who hates these dates."

"I know."

"Do you?" Fitz seeks out her eyes. "This isn't what I wanted when I said I wanted to go public."

"I know."

"I heard you on the Truman. I know you weren't ready, that we weren't ready." Olivia drops her eyes to his pin. "Olivia Pope, stay in with me. We'll make popcorn and drink wine and change out of these clothes." He tugs at the tie around his neck for emphasis.

Olivia bites her lips as she considers his proposal. She wants to say yes. A night in with him sounds like everything she needs right now. They could talk and reconnect. But there's press downstairs and at the restaurant all waiting for them to make their grand appearance. These optics are only partly for him. She's still the whore that snaked her way into the President's bed. She looks up at him and with a tight smile says, "Next time." She detangles from his embrace and grabs the shoe he pointed out earlier.

Fitz sighs as he watches her finish getting ready. He wishes they hadn't picked this restaurant. That there weren't windows allowing the press to watch them anywhere in the restaurant

Olivia reappears in front of him as she straightens the tie he messed up earlier. "Ready?" He nods.

"Let's go." He grabs her hand and walks towards the front door. He pauses in front of it, so Olivia moves around him to open the door. He can see Peter come into view and then he pushes the door shut again.

"Fitz, what are you-"

He steps closer and leans down to kiss her. She flounders for a moment, unsure what he's doing, but then she relaxes into him and her hand works its way into his hair. After letting their tongues play for a while, he bites her lower lip gently as he pulls away. "Hi," he whispers.

"Hi." She has a confused look in her eyes, but there's a small smile on her lips.

"I missed you." Her brow furrows. They'd talked at least three times that day in order to make sure this date went off without a hitch. He leans in for a quick kiss. He groans as he pulls back. "Sleep over tonight." His eyes flutter open as he waits for her refusal. She searches his eyes quietly.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He looks like an kid who just found out he was getting a puppy for his birthday.

She laughs. "Okay."

He can't help the dopey smile that takes over his face. "Let's get this over with." He grabs her hand again. "I think I have popcorn back at the White House."

Olivia laughs as she follows him and the secret service into the elevator. "We better eat quickly then."

Fit nods seriously, "I think we should skip straight to desert." Olivia shakes her head as she takes in a smiling Fitz. It all still feels surreal. Like it's someone else being ripped apart and burned at the stake in media coverage and public opinion. But she loves him and so she repeats that to herself when another client refuses to take her calls and a tabloid calls her seductress-in-chief and CNN speculates whether she got the job of Communications Director because she was sleeping with the President.

The elevator dings and they step out, Fitz's hand resting on her lower back. Flashes are already going off behind the doors. They share once last glance before she plasters a smile onto her face and allows secret service to guide them to the presidential limo waiting outside.