Author's Note: Regardless of what happens to them on my screen, good or bad, I'ma keep doing me and me still wants Olitz. I've got two new ideas (and one of them's more than a little grim and blood soaked, just as a head's up) and I'll tackle them soon after the WIPs. Enjoy the latest and the mini hiatus!

(CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #25-(Fitz, Olivia-"Alex", Abby, Jake, post college twentysomethings AU, OOC but nothing too extreme, first meeting, first time, morning after, past Olivia/Edison, Ossell, Olake, and Mellitz Zombie, Olitz, NSFW))

Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie: Like the Energizer Bunny, I just going and going and going. I can't quit these two k'nuckleheads. I've tried (Lord knows I've tried) but I can't. Even after everything that's gone down and the fuckery to come, I still love them. I love Olivia solo. I love Fitz solo. I adore them together so I'm going to keep on finding ways to write them together and happy. Simple as that.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

"Do I have a rainbow neon sign on me that flashes:' pompous jerks and fuckboys in disguise, come and be refreshed?' I mean, seriously!"

"I'm so sorry, Liv-Liv."

"Don't be sorry. Be helpful and honest with me. Abby, what is so wrong with me that I can't have a decent man want me for me or just a decent man in general? First, Edison Davis, then Franklin Russell, and now that rat bastard Jake Ballard!"

"Wait, what the hell happened with Jake? I thought you two were getting along great."

"Me too until I found out that the only reason that he asked me out to begin with was because of a bet within his unit. Yes, girl… a bet. Like a pack of immature high school senior, frat boy fools from a late 90s teen comedy, Jake and 4 other schmucks all put their tiny little minds together and decided to put 200 dollars plus their most prized possession, Jake's being an autographed football jock strap of all things, into a kitty to see if he could not only get me to go out with him but to fuck him before the end of 3 months! One of the bastards, probably looking to score naked brownie points with me himself came to me with the truth yesterday afternoon and I just…he tried to explain it away. He tried to say that it had started out as a bet but now, he felt real things for me and he was so sorry but I wasn't having it. He played me. He made me feel like I mattered to him and he played me for a fool and I just got so mad and… Ballard's going to remember me with horror for the rest of his life, let's just leave it at that! Him and his little insane clown posse! I already reported them to IAB and at least one of them's going to get demoted. Apparently I'm not the first woman they've run their little con on but I'm definitely gonna be the last. Man, am I glad that I didn't sleep with him, yet. I was planning to after our last date but I'm so glad that I waited, so glad that I listened to my Gut. My Gut said that it wasn't right, that he wasn't right and I listened to it. I was smart and I listened so I didn't sleep with him. Is that good?"

"That's really good, Liv. What a fucking jerk! It's good that you busted him and his homeboys."

"Yeah, it is but it's not good enough. Everyone knows about it and they were giving me pity looks or laughing about it when they thought I couldn't hear them. God, why do I even fucking bother trying anymore, Gingersnap? I mean, seriously…why? I should just invest a few good vibrators and get a big ugly gray cat named Chester and call it a life. It's so pathetic. I got straight As from Pre-K all the way through college. I'm the youngest head medical examiner on the Eastern Seaboard. I've got a kickass best friend. I cook, I clean, I dress well, I have good music taste, I'm not clingy, I've got a big real booty and the sexual appetite of a Hell's Angel on Speed but yet, I'm still pushing 30 and alone. Every relationship I've tried to be in has failed miserably. My taste in men is obviously deplorable and hell, at this point, even if by some bizarre miracle I managed to trip and fall onto a good man's cock, I'd be so scared of him turning into a jerk, I wouldn't even be able to enjoy him after the deed was done."

"Well, maybe you should just focus on doing the deed, then. Jump in and jump out."

"You know that I don't do casual sex, anymore. I'm a serial monogamist, for all the good it's done me."

"I know. I know that but think about it for a second, mmkay? You just ranted that you have shitty taste in men when it comes to your boyfriends, which I totally agree with, but you always got the best friends with benefits when we went on the prowl during undergrad. You even had a whole sultry alter ego…what was her name?"

"Alex. Her name was Alex and I decommissioned her after undergrad because I was trying to grow up and settle down."

"Well, I say that you get out there and let her come out to play. Go get yourself some good fuck me heels, a freakum dress, and get broken off by someone hot. There's no better way to get over someone than to get underneath someone else. Well, drunken, semi-bitter ice cream with your bestie helps, too but you need an orgasm, an orgasm that I can't give you because we're straight and it would be weird to give each other orgasms if we weren't straight. Not bad, per se but so damned weird. My point is that you need multiple orgasms in multiple positions and if letting Alex out of her cage for a while gets you some, then you should go for it. Man, I loved Alex back in the day. She was bold as hell and more importantly, you loved Alex. Bring her back and merge her with Olivia. Let her be your Sasha Fierce to your Queen Bey. You'll be a lot happier and you'll get orgasms. Orgasms are good. Orgasms with company are better. Trust me. I'm an expert."

"I don't know…"

"C'mon…what do you have to lose?"

"What's left of my dignity and perhaps my professional credibility if people find out?"

"Dignity and professional credibility are nice and all but they don't keep the headboard banging and the kitty purring. And hell, you're Olivia fucking Pope and made of awesome. If the Big Giant Heads give you shit for getting your rocks off, then you can get another job and sue the whole kit and caboodle for wrongful, sexist, misogynist termination. They can't be your Pussy Police. Only you can be your Pussy Police."

"Point…I'll think about it when I'm ready to be sober again. Right now, I just want my mint chocolate chip, more margaritas, and Young Frankenstein. You gonna stay the night with me?"

"Yep. Besties don't let besties be sad and drunk by themselves, especially on a Friday night. Plus, I'm way too wasted to drive or catch the Metro and I don't even want to look at Leonardo right now."

"What did that son of a bitch say now?"

"It all started while we watching BNN and…"

3 Days Later…

"Olivia?"

"I sent the bullet fragments from Marlene Hendrix up to ballistics an hour ago. You should check if they're ready."

"I'm not here about the Hendrix case. I'm here to talk about us."

"There is no us, Detective, not anymore and not ever again. You lied to me. You made me feel like I actually mattered to you when all you cared about was paying to play with me so you could gloat to your little friends. You made me into a water cooler punchline and I absolutely refuse to try and make it work with someone that I can't fully trust or respect. I made that mistake with my partners in the past and I won't make it again. We are done."

"Olivia…"

"I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than to even think of giving you another chance to be with me. And let's be honest: one of the reasons you're even here right now is that you think that if you can get me to vouch for you, you'll be able to get out of the 12 consecutive weekends of sexual harassment seminars that you have to attend to keep your job so spare me the wounded and repentant puppy routine. It won't work. Just because you were able to pull the wool over my eyes before doesn't mean I'm stupid. I'm not stupid. I'm brilliant. I just have bad taste in men."

"Look, I know what I did was wrong and mean but…"

"When you add 'but' to an admission of wrongdoing, it negates it into an excuse."

"For Christ's sake, Olivia, will you just listen to me for one second?!"

"I wasted 2 months and three days listening to you talk. I'm not doing it anymore. You're not saying anything worth listening to, anyway."

29 year old Dr. Olivia Carolyn Pope could feel 32 year old Officer Jacob 'Jake' Ballard's exasperated gaze sear her profile but she continued drying her sterilized instruments calmly. It was far from the first time a form of this confrontation had happened in her life and it would be far from the last at the rate she was going. Olivia was aware that she was what was politely termed 'a woman of edges' and rudely termed 'an absolute ice bitch'. Women of edges were unabashedly themselves and didn't bother pandering to anyone, especially those who wanted to force them into a traditional feminine role. They did what they wanted, said what they wanted, and weren't afraid to work hard to get what they wanted, even if it meant that people shied away from them. Women of edges were seen as the ultimate romantic/sexual challenge, the ultimate litmus test of masculinity. Intellectually, she understood why Ballard and his conspirators targeted her for their little game. She was the perfect target: driven and introverted yet still attractive. They probably even thought that the Bet would be doing her a favor. After all, who knew the last time she got fucked by anyone? Hell, in their eyes, she was probably still a virgin…

Understanding their mass reasoning didn't mean that she wasn't hurt and it certainly didn't mean that she wasn't angry, both at Ballard and herself. She should've known better than to trust him. She should've listened to her Gut that had started warning her about him after their second date. She should've…well, it was a moot point, now. Jake Ballard (or 'Joke Bastard' as Abby had cleverly dubbed him) was yet another teachable moment for her and a mistake that she had no intentions of ever making again, drunk or sober. She deserved better.

Ballard's hand closed around her black scrub clad bicep and the look she gave him could've reduced him to dust. It was quickly removed and he followed after her as she sat down at her desk, looking at her with pleading eyes from the other side of it. Instead of rolling her eyes, Olivia simply opened her red mini fridge and pulled out her 2 liter bottle of ice water, as well as a thick chicken salad wrap.

"What can I do to make this better, Olivia? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"Unless you have access to a time machine that can give me the two months and three days that I wasted with you back, there is nothing more that you can do for me, Detective Ballard. And don't call me Olivia. I'm Dr. Pope. My first name is for friends and lovers. You were never really my friend and you're never going to be my lover, not without going to jail, afterwards. Get out. I have notes to prepare for Dr. Smith before she gets here."

Taking her laptop out of sleep mode, Olivia pulled up her Dragon speech software and opened up the thick black binder containing her current cases, a half dozen ranging from Marlene Hendrix's back alley homicide to the case of a 89 year old Jane Doe dead from a sudden heart attack by the Reflecting Pool. After she was done with her snack break, she'd get to it and hopefully be home before midnight. She was three episodes behind on Outlander and she wanted to catch up before the new one…

"You're taking a few days off…why?"

"I have the personal time and I'm entitled to use it when I want to. Are you still here?"

"You've never voluntarily taken time off before."

"I've never been used and publicly humiliated before, either. It's a month full of firsts already. Look, I've been trying my best to be civil here but since you won't take a hint, I'll put it bluntly: unless it is for work, I don't want you coming near me and I don't want to talk to you again. You are nothing but trash and I despise you. I also despise myself for giving you the time of day. I should've known better. I do now and every other woman around here knows what you're really about, which is the other reason why you're so desperate for my forgiveness. You know full and damned well that without it that unless you expand your horizons out of law enforcement and paramedics or transfer cities, you're never going to get laid again."

/

2 Days Later…

Tomorrow night was the night.

She had chosen it carefully. Thursdays were calmer than Friday nights but not too boring. Plus, it would give her time to really enjoy herself through her long weekend, hopefully with the lover she would find…provided that she didn't chicken out like she was sorely tempted to do.

A quiet hiss of pain accented the last of the wax strips being removed from her intimate skin and Olivia sighed as Neosporin spray and then a cooling aloe vera ointment was applied. She had a standing appointment at Oasis Spa for a standard bikini wax but this time, she had gone in for a full Brazilian. She had also spent the day being pampered with skin treatments and a deep tissue massage. Sitting up, she carefully redressed (sans her panties to reduce irritation) and headed downstairs to settle her bill. Stepping out into the sunny spring afternoon, Olivia felt her lips curve into a soft smile. Spring and summer were her favorite seasons. All of the bright colors and the warm temperatures did wonders for her mood…as would the aftermath of her night out tomorrow, provided that it was successful.

The Dress and Heels had been found on Tuesday afternoon after her TV catch up so now, all she had to do was go through with it tomorrow night. All she had to do was get dressed, pick a quiet hotel and bar where she was sure that no one would recognize her, grab a big glass of her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon and just let "Alex" do the rest.

But, could she do it? Could she really get out there again?

Back in the day, she had been able to. She had been able to flirt and dance and drink and get thoroughly laid without missing a beat. She had always been careful, using protection and making sure to visit the GYN every month to keep things in check. She had never brought the guy back to where she stayed nor had she ever given them more than her phone number. No real dates, no real labels. It was just hot sex. No strings attached, no complications, no chance of really being hurt…jump in and jump out, as Abby had put it. It had been fun and the feeling of being the Seductress was a great high but after a while, it had felt hollow. Olivia had started to want more than extended sexy hookups. She was certain that she didn't want to get married. Seeing the infidelity filled screaming implosion of her parents' marriage had made her adverse to the whole idea but…a long term commitment would be nice. She wanted a solid, loving relationship with the possibility of raising children…that would be such a nice life with the right man.

Unfortunately, while Olivia excelled in her academic and later professional life, she failed miserably at picking the right man. On paper and in theory, they were absolutely perfect for her.

In execution, they were unmitigated disasters and the relationships nothing more than sessions of lukewarm sex between passive aggressive (or in her case, icily aggressive) arguments.

Edison Davis had been too boring, too unyielding, and too traditional in his viewpoints. Franklin Russell had been too much of a doormat and also too traditional. Both of them had expected her to change who she was fundamentally to keep them in her life and she had refused to do so. And with Ballard…she had decided to take a chance on him.

Why not, she had reasoned. It had been almost 2 years since she and Russell had split and it wasn't like he was letting grass grow underneath his feet. He was getting married in a month to a high school band director from Bethesda and Edison had finally stopped trying to reconcile with her long enough to get tangled up with someone new. Actually, he was in smack dab in the middle of a salacious, high profile love triangle with the Governor of California and his wife. While Governor Andrew Nichols had been schmoozing away during the White House Correspondence Dinner, his darling little wife Mellie and Edison had stolen away to make "passionate" love in his office as the Speaker of the House. They had left the door ajar and an intrepid anonymous source had recorded the session before turning it over to anyone who wanted it, which was just about every major news outlet…

Olivia really had to hand it to Ballard. He was a damned good liar. He made it seem like he had been harboring an interest in her for years and had just mustered up the courage to approach her. Their outings had been simple and honestly quite cheap: Gettysburger and walking among the monuments but she had still enjoyed them. She had enjoyed his company. His kisses and caresses weren't earth shattering but they hadn't been unpleasant but she just hadn't been able to take things further. Her Gut had told her that something was off, that he was hiding something, and she was unwilling to take things further until she settled the feeling.

The Jake Ballard situation had been a brutal TKO to her pride, her ego, and her self esteem. How had she become so hard up and lonely that she had allowed him to do her like that? How had she not seen it coming? Was she really so pathetic that a man had to have an ulterior motive to want her? How dare he do that to her? How dare he humiliate her and make her into a laughingstock? How dare he…he had hurt her. The son of a bitch had angered her, humiliated her, and most of all, he had hurt her. She had allowed him to hurt her and it was unacceptable. She had been hurt once again by a bad choice she had made in a man and it rankled. She was sick of making the bad choices. She was sick of being hurt. She was sick of being left behind. She didn't need a man to feel complete. That wasn't it. She just wanted…

All she really wanted was to be accepted and wanted for who she was, not despite it or to be seen as a living redecorating project. Apparently, those wishes were too much to ask for so now, she'd settle for having fun and feeling good.

She just wanted to feel good again…

/

As soon as he saw her, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

35 year old Dr. Fitzgerald "Fitz" Grant III was no stranger to beautiful women. He saw them all of the time in his private practice of plastic surgery, especially once he moved to the Capital. Many of them would come in for liposuction, Botox, and new breasts. Others would come in for help with varicose veins or the aftermath of various accidents. Beautiful women were always in his orbit. They weren't always in his bed. Unlike his infamous father, he didn't feel the need to bed every single woman who gave him the Eye but he wasn't a monk, either.

Okay, since finding Mellie Vaughn being taken from behind by his best friend 5 years before, he had lived like a monk. The fact that Mellie had cheated hadn't been shocking. She wanted to be a political wife. She wanted to be a political figure. Once it had become clear that Fitz's mind was more geared towards medicine, it had signaled the death knell for their relationship. Neither one of them had admitted it, unwilling to deal with Big Jerry's ire but it had been true. Andrew made no secret about his desire to be a major politician and the man's eyes didn't lie about his feelings for Mellie, as misguided as they were. What had been shocking about the situation was that she had been so bold as to have Andrew fuck her in broad daylight in a pool chair. Fitz had never thought that prim, proper, Optically obsessed Mellie would ever go for that nor did he ever think that she would end up being one-third of a lusty love triangle…

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Well, if you change your mind…"

"I won't change my mind. Have a good evening."

The woman at the bar had not only gotten his attention, she had gotten every man's attention. She had a short sleeved, mid thigh length black leather bodycon dress paired with 4 inch black gladiator zip up sandals. Her hair was immaculate in soft onyx waves and in the dim gold tinted lighting of the bar, her sepia toned skin took on a silken finish, calling for gentle fingertips to caress. She was petite in stature but generously curved and her lips…god, her lips. They were full and lush, the raspberry tint upon them deepened by her small sips of red wine. The only pieces of jewelry she had on were a gold watch and a white pearl bracelet and when he had gone up to the bar for a refill, he had seen no evidence of a ring or a tan line where a ring would be. She had just finished talking with a CEO type when he had gone up but her hessonite doe eyes had drifted over him appreciatively.

Fitz wasn't conceited but he was aware that he was an attractive man. A lot of people back in California compared him to Big Jerry in his heyday ("…only with kind eyes and a heart of gold, Fitzy. You get both from your mother because god knows that Jerry's a mean SOB!") and there was an actual fan club for him at George Washington University Hospital made of both sexes. Still, seeing her interest…Alex's interest made him feel like a King. It was like being acknowledged by the Queen. She certainly was holding court at the bar. Many men had come up to her throughout the night and she had engaged with them but none of them had really held her interest. They didn't have what she was looking for and Fitz could see the frustration building in her body language…

Abruptly, she finished the second glass of wine she had been nursing and quickly ordered another one, along with a fresh tumbler of Glenlivet. She moved with her head held high and an authoritative stomp in her gait. She came directly to his small booth and sat right next to him, eliminating his personal space. The scent of baked vanilla apples surged into his nostrils and he met her blazing gaze calmly after drinking half of the scotch.

"Hi."

"Hi…why did I have to come here to you? I know you want me and I made it pretty clear that I was interested earlier. We could've been out of here an hour ago if you had moved your ass."

He had always appreciated a bold woman and her annoyed pout had him grinning like a loon.

"You gave me a lustful look but no words. Words are important, Ms. Alex. It is Alex, isn't it?"

"It is this weekend. This hotel is home for the weekend, too. I'm looking for someone to keep me company but I didn't want to risk a Dahmer or Jack the Ripper reboot knowing where I live."

"Clever woman…"

"Not clever, brilliant. Well, most of the time, anyway. What's your name?"

"It's Thomas."

"No, it's not."

"You're using an alias so I'm following your lead. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours..."

"If you want to know, then you have to do me…I mean, something to earn it, Sinatra."

"Sinatra?"

"Yes, because of obvious and gorgeous reasons …do I get a cool nickname, too?"

"If you want one, then you'll have to pick it, Ms. Alex. My creative thoughts don't involve nicknames. They involve you and I being alone and very naked."

"Great minds think alike. Although, I'm definitely enjoying Ms. Alex, I want you to call me Lover by the end of our time together. Honey is also acceptable. You want me."

"I do. Badly."

"I want you."

"Yes, you do. Badly. Shamelessly, I might add."

"Shame is overrated. We want each other so why are we still sitting here? Let's go upstairs."

"Be patient. I have every intention of leaving with you tonight, Ms. Alex and staying until you're done with me. However, did you know that wasting good alcohol is the 9th deadly sin?"

"…I do now. What's the 8th?"

"If a man has sex with a woman and she doesn't come at least twice from oral, then he's committed the 8th deadly sin and he deserves to burn in the deepest layer of hell for all eternity."

His tone was so solemn that she looked taken aback until he succumbed to the mirth surging through his veins, spurred on by the rabbit punch to his bicep.

Like her voice, her laughter was slightly husky but undeniably, appealingly feminine. Her smile lit up her face and her free hand rested on his black slack clad thigh. Even through layers of clothing, her touch was electric and Fitz finished off his scotch slowly, looking into her eyes after her wine glass was empty. Using the back of his hand, he gently stroked the apple of her right cheek, pleased that she leaned into the touch immediately. The hand that wasn't gently massaging his thigh went to his wrist and he was struck by how delicate the appendage was, how soft…

He wanted to know if the rest of her was as soft.

/

It had been a long time since she had full on made out with someone and it felt divine.

His lips were soft and warm, gentle but urgent. His tongue twined and played with hers, following her lead, which she deeply appreciated. Edison, Franklin, and Ballard had been decent kissers but they could get too sloppy at times. A little bit of sloppiness was fine, especially once they were deep in passion but Olivia appreciated not being choked and drooled on.

She gasped as he lifted her as if she were made of feathers and pressed her against the wall between the suite's lounging area and the bedroom. Having anticipated being picked up (every one of the 7 soon to be 8 men she had slept with did it), she had removed her form fitting leather dress, leaving her in sheer white lace undergarments. Olivia smiled welcomely at him as he rested his brow on hers and he returned it sweetly. Her legs unwrapped from around his waist and she stood on her tiptoes, exchanging small kisses with him as they entered the bedroom. Moving to the foot of the bed, she sat up on her knees and used his belt to guide him forward.

"You're in your underwear and I'm still fully dressed."

"Not fully. You took off your socks and shoes at the door."

"Semantics…we should be on equal ground, Ms. Alex. You should be getting me naked."

"It's actually Ms. Olivia…Dr. Olivia Pope. I'm a medical examiner for the MPD."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Fitz Grant and unfortunately I am related to the Senator. I'm his son. Instead of going into national politics like he wanted, I became a doctor. I'm a plastic surgeon."

"Private practice or ER?"

"Both."

"Nice."

"Most of the time…so, us having hot sex? Is that gonna happen anytime soon or should I just go home with the worst case of blue balls on the Eastern Seaboard?"

Olivia laughed brightly and nimbly undid his belt as he got at the buttons of his chocolate brown Oxford. The dress shirt hit the floor and she bit down on her lower lip appreciatively as he pulled off his white undershirt. She let her blunt nails trace the well defined grooves and planes of his abdomen, pleased at his shiver and the fact that he was hairy. Olivia loved a hairy man and she had been quite disappointed when 'manscaping' became widespread.

His large hands went to her behind and squeezed fondly as their lips rejoined. His pants were the next to go and Fitz climbed into bed on top of her. Her knees bent and spread to receive him willingly and he looked at her with a staggering amount of need as he rose up on his knees. She couldn't stop touching him. He was silk over steel and content to let her do as she pleased. His surgeon's fingertips caressed her trembling thighs and carefully undid the bows on the sides of her panties.

/

Saturday Night…

She rode him steadily with her hands braced on his shoulders and her head thrown back in rapture.

Her breathing was jagged and her thighs quivered against him as he thrust up into her, looking at her with lust and growing bliss. Olivia had proven to be insatiable and Fitz matched her hunger. It had been far too long since he had been inside a woman and Olivia was unlike any other woman he had felt. Not only was she the warmest, the softest, the tightest, she had a profound effect on his emotions, too.

Fitz was far too old and jaded to confuse sex with love, no matter how (phenomenal, earth shaking, a-maz-ing) good it was but he was aware that whatever he was feeling for the woman mounted on him was deep and went far beyond this hotel suite, far beyond this semi-anonymous weekend. He was open to exploring the feelings but he knew that Olivia wasn't, not yet.

He was more than willing to provide an incentive to get her thinking about it…

Stilling her hips, he reversed their positions and eased out of her, replacing his cock with two knowing fingers. A near pained groan accented the squeeze of her walls around the digits and Fitz felt a smirk playing at his lips as he stroked her. Olivia's pupils were dilated and he buried his face in her neck, delighting in her gasping moans as he kissed her there. She shuddered underneath him in climax and Fitz hissed as her teeth sank into his shoulder while her nails dug into his back again. Olivia whimpered as he offered her his sodden fingers and she took them in willingly as he returned to her sweet depths. Her moans held a sobbing tinge and he licked a slow trail up to her earlobe, capturing it.

"You taste so fucking good…you feel even better, honey…"

"Fitz…more, Fitz…don't stop…please don't stop…"

/

Sunday Morning…

As she lay with her head on his chest listening to the driving rain outside and watching Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, it hit her hard.

Jumping in and jumping out was not going to happen, not with Dr. Fitz Grant III.

She wasn't supposed to get attached. She wasn't supposed to be looking at him looking at her with tenderness and wanting him to just keep holding her. She wasn't supposed to have told him her real name. She wasn't supposed to want take him back to her place so she could have him in her bed, so that her sheets could smell like him after he left. She wasn't supposed to not want him to leave her bed or her life. She wasn't supposed to want to see him regularly, maybe even permanently…

Shit.

She had fucked up and was beginning to catch serious feelings for the blue eyed, sexy, hilarious gentle giant she had figuratively clobbered over the head and dragged back to her temporary den of debauchery.

Hell, she hadn't even had to clobber him over the head or drag him. He had been eager to follow her because apparently, he wasn't adverse to the idea of touching her and catching feelings for her, which in her case, inevitably led to disaster.

Abort mission, undo mission, she had to get out of there…okay, no. She didn't want to abort or undo the mission. She had accomplished it and more. And she certainly didn't want to leave. Hell, even if she did, where would she go? It was her hotel suite and she couldn't just leave him there with the bill. Well, she could but that would be horribly rude, especially considering that he had given her the best sex of her life more than once.

Olivia wasn't sure if it was because of their earlier banter or the fact that he hadn't been intimidated by her direct (and honestly quite tactless) approach or just…goddamn it, not again!

With a soft groan, she pulled the duvet over her head and he snorted ruefully as she made a cocoon to hide, as if it would really change anything…

"It just hit you, didn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

"It was supposed to be just sex."

"It really was."

"But, it's not."

"No, it really isn't…this is not good. I'm terrible at real relationships. When I try to make them work, they always fall apart."

"Maybe you were picking the wrong guys to try with."

"No maybe about it…that's why I came up with this whole carnal weekend to begin with. The latest guy I was dating turned out to be a jackass who only did it for a bet so I decided to let Alex come out and play again so I could get laid and get over him faster. It was a good idea. Well, I was completely drunk and hurt when my best friend suggested it so it sounded like a really good idea at the time."

"Did you get laid?"

"You know full and damned well that I got laid."

"Are you over the fuckhead who hurt you?"

"I don't even remember his name."

"Are you happy right now with me?"

"…yes, I am which sucks because once we really get together, you'll turn into an asshole and I'll get hurt again. I don't want to get hurt again."

"Livvie, men don't turn into assholes in relationships. They're assholes to begin with and once the relationship is solid, they feel secure in showing their true nature because they assume that their past good behavior will be enough for the woman to stay with them."

"That's stupid and arrogant."

"Yes, it is. Olivia, I'm not an asshole. I can certainly act like an asshole sometimes but at the end of the day, I'm a pretty okay guy so far. There's always room for improvement."

"I like how you can just acknowledge that. Most people can't."

"Self awareness is the first step to ultimate enlightenment. It wasn't a bad idea. This whole thing that you let yourself be talked into doing was not a bad idea."

"Not now but it can easily turn into the worst idea I ever had down the line."

"True, but it can also turn into the best idea you ever had down the line. I can't promise that I won't ever hurt you but I can tell you that when it happens, it won't be on purpose. Don't you want to see what happens between us? We have a really good connection."

"…we do, don't we?"

The duvet was pulled off of her head and Olivia looked up at him solemnly. Reaching, she stroked his cheek with her fingertips and Fitz wrapped his arms around her, spooning her.

"We can take it a day at a time."

"We can just…be. We'll be exclusive but…no formal labels yet, okay? If we have formal labels, I'll get scared and make a self fulfilling fuck up. I don't want to do that."

"Okay."

"And seriously, we're exclusive. I know that I won't willingly cheat on you but if I find out that some busty little candy striper or a fabulous Amazon GYN untied your scrubs and you let them, they will have to piece you back together to bury you. Just…if you don't want to be with me anymore, let me know. Don't let me find out after the fact."

"You were with some real pieces of work, weren't you?"

"I was."

"You deserve better."

"I've found better. Now, I just have to keep you."

"That will be easy, Livvie."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. We're going to be good together and we're going to stay good together."

"…and it's gonna be great."

"…and it's gonna be great."