A/N: Here's my Christmas entry. Fair warning, it starts off sad, but hopefully the ending is a good payoff. It's also not super Christmasy, as you'll see. Blame that on the James Bay I listened to a thousand times before I started writing.

Merry X-Mas/ Chag Sameach/Happy Kwanza/Whatever holiday you rock with.

He was surprised to see her name pop up on his screen. Unless she was calling to talk about Tommy, their contact was limited. He could count on one hand how many times she'd called for something other than their six-year-old son.

Twice, to be exact. The first time had been to see if he thought that they should sell their Maxwell tickets; he'd bought them around the beginning of the year as a birthday gift for Olivia. Maxwell had provided the soundtrack to their history as a couple throughout the years. When he'd purchased the tickets back in back in December, he never thought that by September they'd be on month six of a court ordered separation. It all had come at him so sudden.

One-minute his life was normal, the next Olivia confessed to seeing someone else. For what it'd been worth, she'd reassured him that it wasn't a physical affair, but emotional. He would never forget the look in her eyes, though, as she confessed that it was becoming increasingly harder for her not to let it become physical. The tears that slipped down her sharp cheeks as she explained how he wasn't there for her anymore still haunted his memory. They left him combining through the last ten years of their lives together, wondering at what point he'd stopped paying her the attention she deserved. When did he stop seeing her like she explained from her side of the bed?

The second time she'd called him since their separation started was a night that had given him false hope. She called, asking how to light the pilot on the furnace. Fitz had been blocks away from their home and offered to come light it for her. He could see the remnants of red wine on her lips and the heat in her eyes once he'd announced the furnace was all set to go.

Before he could bid farewell, she'd jump him; tongue plundering his mouth, hands tangled in his hair. It'd been so long since they'd touched that Fitz didn't hesitate to lift her in his arms, take her to their bedroom (while pushing thoughts away of her making love to another man) and give her all that was in him. He'd fucked her with purpose. He'd fucked her with full intensity and passion – hell bent on punishing and promising her that everything within him still loved her without hesitation. Despite everything, she was still it for him.

And for a small moment, buried deep inside of her, lips brushing against the shell of her ear, whispering how much he loved her in between bites of mine, he thought everything was okay. He thought all had been forgiven and forgotten. But it hadn't. The next morning she awoke, swollen lips and frizzy hair; love bites marring her silky flesh from her thighs to her neck, in regret. She'd wrapped herself in their sex stained sheets and asked him to leave.

Please leave, this was a mistake, Olivia had whispered. The words shredded his already threadbare heart.

"Fitz?"

He blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Uh, yeah?"

"Were you paying attention to me?" she asked.

Fitz sighed, scratching the five o'clock shadow budding on his cheeks. "I-uh…"

There was shuffling on the other end of the phone followed by a long and disgruntled sigh. "You never listen to me."

He frowned and lowered his eyes to the black and white tiled kitchen floor of his apartment.

"I said that Tommy said you'd be over tonight to help us decorate the tree."

"Shit," he hissed. She'd been very clear about their custody arrangements. She'd hammered them home and they'd mostly consisted of them avoiding each other. "Liv, I'm sorry. When he asked, I didn't think anything of it. Put him on and I'll explain that I overstepped. Let him know that I'll get a tree for him here and we'll decorate it later."

"No. You don't have to do that. Come over."

Had he heard her right? "What?"

"I said come over. It's really no issue. I told you when I asked for the separation that Tommy trumped any issues you and I might have. He wants you here and—"

"Do you want me there?" The words barreled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Fitz…" His name on her lips was once a sacred sound, but now it left him in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'll be there in ten."

"Thank you."

/

Truth be told, she missed her husband.

Truth, also, be told, she was mad as hell at him.

And had been for a while. Somewhere in the ten years they'd been together, the fire in him burnt out. She kept going over the last few years in her head, wondering when he'd stopped seeing her. Once upon a time ago they'd been obsessed with one another. So much so that they'd spent the first two years of their coupling rarely clothed. If there was a free surface and semi privacy, they fucked. Raunchy, rough, sweet, slow. It didn't matter. All that mattered was being unable to tell where her body ended and his began.

They fought long and hard to conceive Tommy. PCOS had long been a problem for Olivia and before finding Fitz, she'd resigned herself to never having kids. After meeting the man with boyish charm and gray-blue eyes, something in her shifted. She was suddenly eager to know what it felt like to create a life with the man who'd caught her eye one afternoon while visiting her father at work.

It'd taken a year and a half plus a miscarriage for their boy to be born. Once he was, she and Fitz fell into the nuclear family mold. Olivia found herself taking more and more time off of work to contend with their growing son. Promotions she gunned for went to other people; cases she'd long had her eye on were shifted off of her plate and to other attorneys. Meanwhile, Fitz's profile skyrocketed at the hospital. He'd been promoted to chief of surgeons. His work hours grew longer and their time together increasingly harder to come by.

The more Olivia tried to explain to him that his job was taking a toll on her, the less he heard her. He'd made suggestions for romantic getaways, weekends away, and even going as far to suggest she quit her job. Each suggestion felt more cavalier than the last until she found herself unloading on Ben Reed. Ironically enough the co-worker who'd been given the case Olivia fought tooth and nail to prove she was right for. Ben was a beautiful man; the quintessential tall, dark, and handsome. He had a deep voice and soulful eyes. Some of the other attorneys in the office likened him to Idris Elba, but Olivia didn't see the resemblance.

Lunches with Ben turned into dinners; from dinners, she found herself talking to him late night while she waited up for Fitz. She and Ben became inseparable. Then he kissed her. Over greasy burgers and red wine, he'd told her she was beautiful, traced her plump lips with his fingers, and then kissed her. It wasn't until that kiss that she realized she and Fitz hadn't made love regularly in nearly a year. It was also that kiss that made her realize that she wanted another man in the same way she should want her husband. And in many ways, she'd already been with him.

Telling Fitz about Ben hurt. Watching as her husband's face contorted in pain, eyes filling with sorrow, was an ice-cold hand over her heart. But she owed it to herself and to both he and Ben, she'd told Fitz, to figure her head and heart. The separation was her idea. It felt like a sure way to sort herself through. Olivia held Fitz at a distance. She and Ben went out, they held hands in public, exchanged soft kisses goodnight, and she almost invited him inside. She wondered if she and Ben could live a good life together, though each time she tried to picture it, her mind refused.

And then she'd jumped Fitz. She hadn't intended on it but had, nonetheless. In the brief moment he stood in their basement, sleeves rolled up and curls wild in the dim light, she felt like the twenty-six-year-old girl who'd never known an orgasm before Fitz. She thought of the way he'd confess in whispers his undying love for her in the middle of the night when he thought she slept. Maybe it was the nostalgia, maybe it was the wine.

They fucked the entire night. His touch both gentle and rough; the energy that propelled him purely possessive. There'd been many times when he'd move his tongue between her folds or let his teeth graze over her pubic bone, hissing mine, that she wanted to tell him she'd never slept with Ben. Each time she opened her mouth, however, only a series of moans would escape her lips.

When she awoke the next morning, his teeth leaving marks behind almost ever centimeter of her skin, regret set in. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't let the physical interfere with her decision to leave or to stay in her marriage. Now it would. Now….

He knocked. Olivia blinked, tugging on the collar of her sweater. She was hot and her house was a disaster. Christmas decorations of all sorts were strewn from one end of the house to the next.

"It's dad!" Tommy yelled. His head full of dusty brown curls whipped past Olivia and toward the door.

"Thomas Elijah Grant, what have I said about the door for strangers. We don't know for certain that's dad or—" Her words were cut off as Fitz came through the door. In one hand he carried a bottle of Eggnog, in the other a pizza.

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. It was the same feeling she had first meeting him all those years ago. It was a feeling she tried hard to ignore.

Clearing her throat, she spoke. "You didn't have to bring pizza."

"Yes, he did!" Tommy said soliciting a chuckle from Fitz.

"Bud, mind your mom," Fitz warned.

Tommy pulled a face, nose scrunching up. "Dad, she was gonna feed me vegetables! I don't even like vegetables."

Olivia opened her mouth to retort but didn't get the chance.

"Now bud, there are hundreds and probably thousands of vegetables in the world. How do you know that you don't like them all?"

"Uhm, I…uhm." The six-year-old looked at his father, stumped.

"Exactly. Plus, mom only feeds you vegetables because she loves you."

"Can she love me in chocolate?" Tommy asked.

Both Olivia and Fitz laughed.

"Go put this in the fridge, Tom." Fitz held out the eggnog bottle.

Olivia watched as their son, in all of his buttery brown glory, grabbed the eggnog bottle and trotted through the house to the kitchen. Once they were alone, Olivia turned her attention to Fitz. He seemed on edge. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and his eyes were darker – sadder. Olivia's heart constricted in her chest.

"I was gonna make us dinosaur chicken nuggets, but daddy's clearly outdone me again," She joked, giving him a half smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, Liv. Really. You probably said something on the phone, and I wasn't listening. I didn't mean—" He rambled.

"Fitz, I said it was okay. Let's go eat with our son."

/

The sound of Donny Hathaway filled the room. Olivia nursed a warm glass of eggnog. She watched as Fitz and a yawning Tommy hung peppermint candy canes from the tree. Despite him saying different, Olivia could see the tiredness over taking her son. He rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand and tugged on his left ear; all tell-tale signs his was seconds away from being out like a light.

"Mom, you have to!" Tommy yelled.

Olivia blinked, realizing she'd been in her own thoughts. "Huh?"

"You have to put the angel up with dad!" Tommy said, holding the crochet angel in his tiny hands.

She looked at Fitz and he looked away. They'd tipped-toed around each other the entirety of the evening. If Fitz went left, Olivia went right.

"Bud, I think you should put it up with dad." Olivia didn't know if she could handle being that close to Fitz. The words were barely out of her mouth before Tommy folded his arms and leveled her with a stern glare. Olivia knew that glare well for it belonged to her.

"No, mom. You and dad always put it up."

"Buddy…" Fitz tried.

"No! You and dad do it! Please!" Tommy insisted. His dark brown eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip jutted out, trembling. "Please!" He pleaded.

Olivia's brows furrowed. She knew Tommy was tired, but this outburst caught her off guard. Her eyes met Fitz's.

"Buddy," Fitz tried again. He reached for angel, but Tommy wouldn't get it up.

"No, dad! It's you and mom! You and mom!" Tommy yelled. The little boy's voice cracked, and the tears spilt down his cheeks.

"Tommy, bud," Olivia tried.

"No!" Tommy threw the angel towards Olivia and her mouth dropped open in shock. He'd never thrown a fit of this caliber before let alone thrown something at her.

"That's it, Thomas Elijah Grant," Fitz barked. In two long strides he was lifting Tommy into his arms. "It's bedtime."

Olivia watched as her son and husband headed towards the stairs. Tommy kicked and screamed the entire way there.

/

Fitz couldn't believe his son's actions. He'd never seen Tommy like this. Tommy was a gentle soul, a soft boy who loved to chase butterflies and hated to be dirty. In front of him was a child that Fitz couldn't recognize.

"Come on, bud. Work with me, please," Fitz pleaded as he stripped Tommy's jeans off and tried desperately to help the boy into his pajama pants. Usually Tommy insisted on dressing himself , but tonight he was just too tired; too out of it.

Tommy continued to cry, his brown face now bright red. He moved with Fitz, lifted his arms and legs to undress and redress. Minutes later he was in Fitz's arms, thumb tucked between his teeth and head resting on Fitz's shoulder. Fitz rubbed his boy's back and sighed. He had tried – and failed – to tuck Tommy into his bed.

"Want to tell me what happened back there, Thomas? I know you aren't sleeping yet; you snore," Fitz said.

Tommy shook his head.

"Bud, come on now. You were very mad at mommy back there," Fitz tried again.

"Because," Tommy offered, voice muffled by his father's shoulder.

"Because why?"

"Because."

"Thomas." Fitz sighed. While Tommy had Fitz's soft temperament, his temper belonged to his mother. Whatever was bugging Tommy had clearly been bugging him for a long while.

"Mom said I could ask Santa for anything."

"Okay. And?" Fitz prodded.

"I gave her my list and she made me do it again."

"But downstairs wasn't about a Christmas list, buddy. Use your words. Why are you mad?"

"I asked Santa for us to live in the same house again. I ask Santa for you to come home and mom said I couldn't ask that. She said it wasn't up to Santa and it's not fair, daddy. I just wanted her to put the angel up with you and for you to stay. I don't like it when you're not here. Mom is being mean!"

Fitz could feel his eyes burning and tears budding. A knife to the heart would've hurt less. "Oh, Tommy…" He didn't know what to say. All of the words he had to offer up seemed hollow, empty and useless. A beat passed and then several more before Fitz found the courage to speak. "Bud, what's go on between me and mom…mommy is right. Santa can't fix it. Mommy and I have to fix it. And I know it's hurting you buddy, but if we don't fix it, it'll hurt even more."

Tommy shrugged out of Fitz's hold and settled into Fitz's lap. He let his head fall against his father's chest. "Is that why mom cries? Does she cry because it hurts?"

A lump formed in Fitz's throat. He felt the air leave his lungs. The mere thought of Olivia in tears ripped him into two. He almost cracked in two right there.

"Let's get some sleep, bud."

/

An hour later Olivia looked up from her spot on the couch to find Fitz making his way down the stairs that led to the townhome's second level. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and she drowned in an oversized Harvard sweatshirt that belonged to Fitz.

"Did he tell you what's wrong?" Olivia asked, eyes finding Fitz's. His glistened against the twinkling lights of their still angel-less Christmas tree. He was trying not to cry. "Fitz?"

"I want to come home, Olivia." His voice was firm, self-assured, and level. So was his gaze.

"Fitz, I…" She looked away. "I'm…"

"Tommy is hurting. I'm hurting. And Livvie…Livvie, I know you're hurting too. I know I let you down. I know I wasn't there, and I am sorry. I thought – I thought the harder I worked at the hospital and the more ladders I climbed the better it would be for us eventually. I didn't see that you were cutting off parts of yourself to accommodate my climbs while missing out on yours. I get it, baby. And I get that you think that this Ben…that he, he sees you, but he doesn't. Not like me."

His words caused tears to swell in her eyes. She broke his gaze, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked down at the hardwood floors. "Fitz, please don't do this…"

"No, Olivia. No. I am doing this. I haven't been fighting for us. For you. But I'm telling you that I am here. Baby, I hear you. Please. Don't give up on us." He walked towards the couch and Olivia climbed to her feet. She unfolded her arms, holding her hands out to keep him at a distance.

"Olivia."

She couldn't keep the tears in any longer. They rolled down her cheeks, pooling at her chin until they couldn't fight gravity anymore. "I can't think when you're this close. I can't breathe. I can't…I can't."

"Can't what, Livvie? You can't give up on us. You can't make this separation real. You can't."

"Fitz."

"Why are you giving up on us? Why don't you want me and you?"

His questions hit her head on. She was the deer and he was the headlights splitting open the night. Her mouth couldn't form an answer because she didn't have one. She didn't want Ben. She didn't want an empty house and a cold bed.

"I've always wanted you, Fitz. Always." She sobbed. Her hands dropped to her side in defeat and before she knew what was happening, she was being pressed into the plush softness of the couch, sandwiched in between the hardness of Fitz's body and the cushions.

He showered her in sweet kisses from her cheeks to her chin to her forehead before pulling away and balancing his weight on his elbows. His left index finger trailed down the slope of her nose. Olivia smiled. She brought her right hand up to his face, index finger tilting his chin down and then palm settling against his cheek. The Christmas lights danced along his skin. For a long moment her fingers laid limply against his cheek. She then curled them inward, nails scrapping against the five o'clock shadow budding at his chin. Her hand wilted and her fingertips skimmed over his jaw. She could see the tiredness etched into the dark circles beneath his eyes and she frowned, knowing their separation was to blame.

She craned her neck upward and her lips found his chin and then lips. Purpose and apology lingered in her kiss. She pulled back. Their eyes met. Fitz breathed in. A loose tear slipped down his chin and Olivia reached up to wipe it away. Her thumb moved along his jaw and his eyes closed.

"Look at me, Fitz," she insisted. "Please."

He did.

Her hands found the hem of his sweater and she tugged it upward. She dragged it over his head dropped it onto the floor without a second thought. Her need for him was immense. Overpowering. A thirst that demanded to be satisfied and now. Desire laced each of her movements. She knew it was dangerous for them to fall back into bed seconds after admitting that she only wanted him, but she needed this reassurance. She needed to forget where her body ended and his began.

He tried to squirm away from her. His head dipped low and his fingers wrapped around the band of her yoga pants, but she wiggled away from him. She simultaneously pushed and pulled at his shoulders.

"No. Not tonight, baby. I need you," she whispered, watching as he got the hint and crawled back up her body.

His fingers slipped beneath the weathered shirt. He tugged it off, revealing her bare chest. He dipped his head low, breathe hot against her hardened nipples. He took the right between his teeth, soliciting a low moan from Olivia. Her hands found the back of his head and she tugged on the curls, tangling her fingers in his hair. He sucked and teased, tugged and soothed her nipples, taking turns switching between the buds.

Olivia loved foreplay. She loved the way he took his time bending her body to his will, but tonight was different. Tugging at his hair, she pulled him away from her chest. His lips were wet, his mouth puckered and his hair sprouting up in different directions. He almost looked mad.

"Please, Fitz, I need you inside of me. I need you. Make me whole, baby. Make me whole." She undid the button on his slacks, pushing them down his thighs.

"Lift your hips," Fitz ordered.

Olivia nodded, listening. Seconds later her yoga pants joined his slacks, her shirt, and his sweater. She guided him into her entrance. Fitz pushed inside, groaned, and dropped his head into the nook of her neck. Her back bucked, her breasts smashed into his chest and she felt tears bud behind her eyes again.

Fitz lifted his head, kissed her hard, and began to move. Olivia wrapped her arms him, locked her feet at the base of his back, and whispered in his ear.

"Don't stop. Don't ever stop. Please, please, please. Make me whole. Fill me, Fitz. Fill me."

He obeyed. Their rhythm started slow, but swiftly increased as she stretched around him. He kissed her mouth, face, neck, and chest. Olivia arched under him, teeth grazing against her ear before tearing away and finding his mouth once more. She felt full – whole. Their teeth bang together, lips hitting and missing against the pace he'd set before. And then suddenly, he slowed.

"Give me your hands," he whispered against her chin.

It took her a moment to hear him, but she obeyed. He locked her fingers in his, holding them above her head. Olivia's eyes slipped closed at the new sensations their slight shift in position brought. The sensation only grew as he ground his pelvis into hers. His mouth found hers again. His strokes grew deliberate, measured. Exactly what she liked and in seconds she shattered. Her orgasm triggered his and with a guttural cry, mouth breaking away from hers, he filled her. An inexplicable warmth filled Olivia and his dick pulsed inside of her.

"Mine, mine, mine," he chanted against her neck as he rode out his wave, hips moving until they slowed on their own.

Olivia shuddered, feeling as he trembled. "Yours. Only yours," she assured him.

His head found her chest and he collapsed in exhaustion. Olivia's legs slackened from around his waist and fell, one to the couch cushions and one to the nook behind his knee. Her hands stroked up and down his back, over his head and down his shoulder blades. She kissed his sweaty forehead and drew in a breath and then let her head drop to the side as they both fell fast asleep.

/

The next morning Fitz woke alone, covered with a throw. His heart sank as he looked at his watch. 5:23 A.M. Olivia was nowhere in sight. Her clothes had been picked up and his were folded, resting on the coffee table. He frowned. How stupid was he to expect things to be different after last night? She'd made it clear; she was done with him. The only thing he could do now was make the walk of shame before his son woke.

Sighing, he reached for his clothes.

"I brought you a pair of your pajamas."

Her voice caught him off guard and he whipped around to find her in a silk nightgown. Her hair was curly and wet. In hand she held a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He stared at her, unable to hide the surprise in his expression. She handed him the pajamas and walked over to the Christmas tree. She picked up the angel; their son had thrown hours ago.

Fitz simply held the pajamas, eyes following her. Confusion colored his face. "I can just make the walk of shame back to my car in my clothes from last night," he offered.

Olivia turned on her toes, angel in hand. "I don't want you to go."

He craned his neck, uncertain that he'd heard her right. Promises made in the heat of passion had a history of being empty words with Olivia.

"I want you to come home, Fitz." She crossed the room and took the seat next to him on the couch. "I'm sorry I ever made you leave."

For the thousandth time in the span of two days, his eyes filled with tears. He bit them back and looked at the Christmas tree. He hadn't a drop to drink but the night still came back to him in glimpses. He glanced at the ornaments he'd hung with their son hours ago and then over to his wife. His eyes fell to the couch and then traveled up Olivia's body, finally settling on her face.

"You want me to come home?"

"I do."

He couldn't contain his excitement and he pulled her into his lap, abandoning his pajamas. His arms wrapped around her tiny frame, holding her tight. And for the first time in a long time, he heard her laugh. She giggled before contorting in his hold and kissing him. He returned her kiss eagerly, frowning when she broke away.

"I want us to go therapy, though. We have to go, Fitz. Promise me."

He nodded. "Done," he said, another thought coming to mind. "I don't want you working with Ben anymore."

Olivia looked away. "Fitz, he and I never…I didn't sleep with him. He kissed me and that was it. That's why I told you. I was afraid that…"

"I don't trust him, Livvie. I don't trust him and—"

She sighed and then nodded. "That's fair. I'll look for another firm."

"Or you can start your own."

Olivia smiled. "I don't want to talk shop. I want to talk to us. I want to be us again, but that means you're going to have to tell the hospital that you can't shoulder the full administrative role. I don't want to be here again in another six months because we couldn't get it together and started missing each other again."

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You have to talk to me before it's all or nothing, Liv."

"And you have to listen when I just don't know what to say. Promise me."

"I promise," Fitz said. "I love you, Olivia."

"I love you, too, Fitz. I love you so much."

They sat still for a long moment. Only the sound of their breathing filled the air. Finally, something felt right. Olivia was the first to speak.

"You need to get dressed before Tommy wakes. We're lucky we didn't wake him earlier. That's a therapy bill neither of us need."

He chuckled. "When he wakes, will you put the angel on the tree with me?"

"With Tommy's help."

"Can we tell him that I'm coming home?"

"DAD'S COMING HOME?" The pitter patter of little feet across wood sound. Fitz turned his head to find Tommy at the top of the stairs. Fitz's cheeks tinted pink. Underneath the throw he was naked.

He watched as Tommy took the stairs in two.

"Hey, bud. What are you doing up so soon?" Olivia asked as she slid out of Fitz's lap and sat next to him on the couch.

"I heard you talking to dad. Is dad coming home?" Tommy asked.

"Dad's coming home."

A large smiled stretched across Tommy's face and within seconds, he lunged his little body into the space between his parents. Fitz held tight to the throw, careful not to expose his nakedness. Over the top of Tommy's head, Fitz's gaze met Olivia's. He nodded toward his lap and she laughed.

Maybe, Fitz thought. Just maybe, this would be a good Christmas after all.