So I decided to move all my one shots to one place because it's easier to manage. I'll probably be posting a lot of these because my imagination is running wild these days. I'm open to requests and I really want you guys to be completely honest in the reviews. XOXO

Fitz walked into the Oval and frowned immediately. Olivia was missing, but there was a redheaded woman standing next to a bored-looking Cyrus. He asked, "Where's Olivia?"

"She's not feeling well. I'm Abby," the redhead replied. Cyrus glanced at her. She was no Olivia, but she seemed sharp and capable. He hoped Olivia kept sending her so Fitz would actually pay attention in meetings.

"Not feeling well? What's wrong with her?" Fitz asked, no longer concerned about the meeting.

"I'm not really sure. She said she wouldn't be available today and got me up to speed on everything so I could fill in for her," Abby answered, trying not to smirk. "Now, she sent me a list of possible you could focus on for your State of the Union address. She said going green would be fine if you were a democrat, or if everyone wasn't so concerned with immigration, but you aren't and they are, so you can't."

Fitz barely heard her. He was too focused on Olivia. He wondered where she was, if something was wrong, or if she was with someone else. Cyrus started talking but he didn't hear him either. Fitz stood, his phone out, and dialed her number, stopping Abby and Cyrus mid-conversation. The phone rang three times before she answered.

"Hello," she said, her voice muffled. He wondered what was wrong.

"Where are you?" he asked, frowning.

"Why are you calling? You're supposed to be picking a speech topic, a strong speech topic," she replied. She held the phone away from her mouth while she coughed, hoping he wouldn't hear. It was only a touch of the flu, but she didn't want him to worry.

He heard and frowned. "Are you sick?"

"No," she deadpanned. "I just really like coughing."

"You never get sick." He had never even heard her sneeze. He moved to a corner away from everyone. "Are you okay, Liv?"

"I'm fine. Plan your speech." He imagined her sitting around with a stuffy nose, still trying to wear her fixer cape.

"I have people for that. I'm more concerned with you," he replied. Dropping his voice to a low murmur, he asked, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No." She coughed again, the sound muffled by a tissue. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"Work on your speech." She was so stubborn. The line went dead. He smirked as he put his phone back in his pocket. He walked back to the table and picked up Abby's list of speech topics. He didn't want to address any of them.

He sighed and put the list down. "Let's go with immigration. Something about simplifying the process and not penalizing illegal immigrants."

"Too liberal," Cyrus replied.

Abby smirked at the old man. She hated Republicans. She disputed, "It's a good idea. People are tired of the xenophobic Republican image. A new stance would be refreshing."

"Good. Get Claire on it," Fitz instructed. He buttoned his blazer. "I'm going to step out for a bit. No calls unless the sky is falling."

He turned to leave, Cyrus scrambling after him. Abby smirked as she left to find Claire. When he finally caught up to Fitz, Cyrus huffed, "You can't just leave, sir."

"Oh but I can," he replied coolly as Tom fell in step with them. Fitz turned his attention to his most trusted agent. "Freebird, Tom."

Tom nodded and walked away. "Freebird" was the code he and the President had established for when he needed to leave quickly and quietly. The official story was always that the President had taken leave to go to Camp David and couldn't be disturbed. Tom went to the residence and packed the president's overnight bag.

"Mr. President, you cannot just take off like this," Cyrus implored, his face reddening. He knew exactly where Fitz was headed.

Fitz stopped at the corridor leading to the residency. "Cy, you're always going on and on about how I need to own my position. Well, last time I checked, I was the leader of the free world. I think that means I'm in charge around here. And, being in charge, I'm asserting my right to leave whenever I feel like it."

He didn't stay to hear Cyrus' reply, instead heading to the residence. Tom was waiting near the tunnel entrance that led to a rarely used back exit. Within minutes, they were on the road headed for Olivia's apartment in Tom's black BMW. It took them about 20 minutes to get to Olivia's apartment.

"One more thing Tom?" Fitz requested as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Anything, sir," the agent replied.

"Can you go get some chicken soup for Ms. Pope? And orange juice," Fitz said. "And maybe some Gettysburger for me. Get yourself something too."

"Is that all, sir?"

"Oh, and some cold medicine; DayQuil, NyQuil, whatever." Fitz retrieved his overnight bag from the backseat. He walked to Olivia's front door and rang the doorbell. He smiled at her when she opened it, a blanket draped over her pajamas.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning at him. He smiled at her slightly red nose. She looked so fragile without her makeup and power suit. He waited until she stepped back to let him inside before he answered.

"You're sick. I'm here to take care of you," he replied as he slipped off his blazer and hung it on the hook next to her front door.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I'm fine." She coughed into a tissue.

Fitz smirked. "You're clearly the picture of health."

"I'm fine," she insisted before turning to head back to the couch where she was answering work e-mails. He followed closely, still smirking. She was so stubborn. She smiled because she knew he couldn't see her face. He wordlessly closed her laptop then placed it on the far corner of her coffee table out of her reach. After a particularly harsh cough, she scoffed, "Excuse me, some of us are actually planning to work today."

"You're sick. You don't need to work," he replied as he kicked off his shoes then sat next to her on the couch. He took the remote off the table and changed the channel from the news. He flipped until he got to cartoons and looked at her. She was typing on her phone. He smirked as he took it from her, placing it on top of her laptop. She huffed like a spoiled child. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her blanket-shrouded form. He pressed his lips to her forehead to check her temperature. She was a little warm but not hot. She coughed into her tissue then dropped it in the little garbage can next to the coffee table.

"Have you taken anything for that cough?" he asked when she plucked another tissue from the box to cough into.

She shook her head. "It's not that bad."

"It sounds like you're hacking up a lung, Livvie."

"You wouldn't know how it sounds if you were at the White House working on your speech like you're supposed to be."

He chuckled. "You know, you're the one always telling me I have some of the best speech writers in the country at my disposal. I'm using them like I'm supposed to."

There was a knock at the door that Fitz insisted on answering despite Olivia's protests. Tom stood on the other side, laden with bags. He silently followed Fitz into the living room.

"Your soup ma'am." He handed Olivia a white paper bag holding a styrofoam cup of chicken soup. He handed Fitz a Gettysburger bag. "Double bacon cheeseburger and large fries for you sir." He began emptying the drugstore bags. "I got NyQuil, DayQuil, Vick's vapor rub, Kleenex, Hall's lozenges in cherry and orange, nasal spray, orange juice, and these Milano cookies I like when I'm sick."

Olivia laughed. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

Tom gave a silly smile. Olivia had never seen him smile that way. He replied, "Mr. Beene thinks you'd run away."

They all laughed. Tome took his post on Olivia's doorstep, retrieving his folding lawn chair and his own bacon cheeseburger from the car. Inside, Fitz was neglecting his own food as he warmed Olivia's soup in a pot that looked as if it had never been used. Fitz was sure it hadn't. Olivia smirked at him in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

"You know, I've got one of those crazy new microwave things that are a lot faster," he teased as he stirred the soup.

"You are gonna sass your way into a spanking before the day is over, little woman," he shot back before tasting the simmering soup. Olivia coughed into her tissue. "Go get the DayQuil."

"I don't want any," she half-whined as she went to get the day-glow orange bottle. He sat her on the island, smirking at her frown as he poured the syrupy medicine into the dosage cup. He smiled at her disgusted frown after she gulped it down.

"You're gonna get sick," she pointed out when he pressed his lips to hers, holding her small body against him after lifting her off the island. She would never admit it but she was loving his attention, deeply touched by the fact that he would blow off all his work to come nurse her back to health.

He smiled, their noses touching. "Good. Then you can take care of me."

"Yeah, that'll happen." He kissed her again before setting her on her feet and going to get her soup and a cup for her orange juice. He joined her on the couch and she frowned.

"I don't want soup," she declared when he handed her the bowl.

"Well you're gonna eat it." He took the bowl and held the spoon to her mouth. She stared at it for a few minutes before reluctantly opening her mouth. Fitz made sure she ate every bit of the soup, enjoying spoon-feeding her. When the soup was gone, he put the bowl and spoon in the sink then went back to sit with her on the couch. They cuddled and watched Breakfast at Tiffany's.

"You know they don't end up together in the book," she said as the end credits rolled.

"I've never read it," he replied. "What happens?"

"She runs off to Africa or somewhere, and he sees her picture in the paper. She never knew how much he loved her." She yawned then began coughing. The DayQuil was wearing off. He reached for the bottle and she protested, "I'm not taking any more of that."

"Fine." He picked up the jar of Vick's vapor rub instead. "At least put this on your chest."

"I hate the smell of that stuff," she complained. It appeared being sick turned her into a four-year-old.

"That's too bad, isn't it?" He unbuttoned her silk pajama top and rubbed the strong-scented goo on her bare chest. She gasped at the cool sensation and it occurred to him just how sexy something as mundane as applying vapor rub could be. The scent hit his nose again and he decided it wasn't the act of rubbing something on her chest that turned him on, but the sensation of touching her warm skin. Things had been so hectic and he hadn't had any time to do more than taste her beautiful lips for a few stolen moments. He drew it out, his rand moving sensuously slow. Olivia's eyes closed and she leaned her head back on the couch. The sensation was both relaxing but exhilarating all at once. She didn't protest when he kept going, making her eye lids heavy. By the time he was finished, she was half asleep. He washed the remnants of the rub off his hands then went looking for a book in her bedroom. He was surprised to find a well-worn copy of A Farewell to Arms on her nightstand. She was blinking sleepily as she looked around the living room when he came back.

"Where'd you go?" she asked as he rejoined her on the couch.

"Miss me?" he asked in reply, smiling at her as she snuggled against him.

She smirked. "Well you're supposed to be taking care of me. You can't just leave me unattended."

He couldn't resist kissing her. He didn't care if he got sick. The taste of her lips was worth it. She nuzzled his neck, breathed in his soapy scent. He tucked the blanket around her and opened the book. She fell into his voice as he read. He was halfway through the second chapter when she began to snore softly. He kissed the crown of her head, whispered, "I love you."

He was surprised when she murmured back, "I love you too."