Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal. I am not Shonda Rhimes… though don't we all wish we were?
A/N: So this is going to spin off of 2x03, and so will go from there and head off wherever it goes (; and the chapter title is after I Try by Macy Gray. It is intended to be a series… and rated T for now… but that'll probably change… anyways - don't forget to tell me how it was before you move on to get your next Olivia/Fitz fix.
Apparitions in the Night.
Chapter One: I Try.
Olivia Pope was sitting on the couch, allowing herself her twenty minutes of self-pity and hatred for the day. If she would let herself truly wallow – then she might be able to get over him. She hit rewind on her TiVo, and took another swig of wine, drinking it straight from the bottle. She was Olivia Pope, the rest of the day she was put together, she was impressive – she was Olive Pope. Twenty minutes, Twenty minutes a night was all she allowed herself to wallow in her broken heart, without that structure she might just fall apart at the seams.
She shut the TV off, she couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't stand the sight of the woman on the screen. The woman was Mellie Grant, the First Lady, and someone she could not understand, no matter how hard she tried. Mellie had everything that Olivia wanted. Everything, sure there were some things that Mellie had that Olivia had no desire for, but other things – they were enough to cripple her. Mellie had had Fitz – well she had the potential to have Fitz – she could be with him, she could be married to him, she could have his children. She had the most amazing man in the world, who just happened to be the President of the United States. She took it for granted, all of it. She used fake miscarriages and real pregnancies for political gain and could care less about Fitz.
Olivia's very destructive, very wine driven train of thought was interrupted by the phone call, the phone call she had been waiting for. She looked over at the clock as the phone rang, right on the dot. Ten 'o'clock, she could have known that without looking, because the phone rang at ten every night. He never missed a night, and he was always right on time. It had been two weeks since she had so much as talked to him, two weeks since the kiss on the hunting trip, and two weeks since she had told him it was 'over'. What did that mean anyways? Hadn't they been over? Didn't they already know that 'over' didn't work for them? And still, he called every night, at ten.
Every time it rang, every night, it broke her already shattered heart just a little bit more. Didn't he know how cruel it was, to keep himself in her head. If he could just leave her alone for a while, maybe she would be able to get over him, that was a laughable thought – but maybe she could try and forget him a little bit. Maybe she could get to the point where it wouldn't hurt quite so much. If only he knew exactly how much he was hurting her – he would stop – she had to believe that he would eventually.
There was a knock on the door, and she approached it with all of her new found caution. She looked into the peep hole – something that she had just started to pick up doing – two weeks ago.
"Livy, open the door," She heard possibly her favorite masculine voice from the other side of the door.
"No," She replied, trying to stay strong but knowing that her voice was shaky.
"I have to talk to you," He said, as she pulled away from the peep-hole and leaned with her back to the door – exasperated from the simple fact that he was on the other side of the door, "C'mon, Liv."
"Go home," She found a little more strength from somewhere in her gut, "Nothing good can come from you being here."
"Liv," He croaked, as if it was his last breath, "I need you."
"How can you possibly be this selfish?" She breathed just quiet enough for him to pretend not to hear as she opened the door.
She stepped aside, and he walked in sheepishly, very aware of what he was doing. He knew that it was not fair to her, he knew he was being cruel. This was a woman that he loved so much that he would personally volunteer to sacrifice his own life for hers. This was the woman he dreamed about, who loved him more than anything in the world. He knew that dragging it out would only leave them in pain. He knew being a better man was the better option, to just let her go – he knew it was the right thing to do. But he wasn't willing to be the better guy if it meant that he was going to lose her forever. He swallowed hard. Just thinking about it left a lump in his throat.
"You're in sweats," He observed as she closed the door behind him.
"Sorry, it's past ten – I usually lose the business suits around seven," She put on a strong front.
"You look beautiful, as always," He replied, and she purposefully dismissed the look on his face as he gazed at her longingly.
"Are you going to make a habit of just showing up here?" She interrogated him, "How many secret service agents did you have to drag out of the white house to come here?"
"Three," He replied quickly, and without much thought, "And it depends, are you going to continue to ignore my calls?"
"Are you going to keep calling me?" She asked.
"Are you going to ask me not to?" He asked, and she knew she had met her match, "You tell me, right here. Right now, that you don't want me to call. That you aren't just as in love with me as I am with you. That you're not counting the days until my term as President is over – and we can be together."
"Is your wife still pregnant?"
"You know she is," He replied, "And you know why she is, and you know that's you – not me."
"Fitz, you can't be here."
"You don't know the half of it," He replied, "Five hundred forty-five, by the way."
"What don't I know the half of?" Olivia asked and he took a step towards her.
"Nothing, sweet baby," He tried to reassure her as he grazed the side of his knuckles against her cheek.
"Fitz, please," She felt her knees starting to go weak as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, "Stop."
"Stop what?" His voice was like velvet.
"It hurts," She replied, tears almost coming to her eyes, and he stepped back – his hands holding onto her shoulders.
He ushered her over towards the couch, sat down, and pulled her down into his arms, into his lap. She collapsed into his chest, arms up to her own as she put her head onto his shoulder.
"What hurts, Liv?" He asked, "I can fix it."
"You can't fix it," She breathed, "Because it's you. You hurt so much. I love you, ok? I am in love with you. I am in crazy, ridiculous, insane, needy love with you. And it kills me every time you call, even if I don't pick up. Every time I have to see you and your fake smile with – her. It would be so much easier if I just thought you were happy. It's enough that I'm miserable – to see you so miserable…"
"Then put me out of it, Liv," He replied, "Just say the words, and I'll resign. I'll be here. I'll be with you – I'll be happy."
"You won't be happy," She said, despite what she wanted to say, "You know it, and I know it. The country needs you, and you need this country."
"I love you, Livy," He said, "Please… wait for me?"
"How can you ask me to do that?" She asked.
"I'm waiting for you."
"My marriage is a legal arrangement and a Broadway show," He sighed in reply, "Nothing more. You, Liv, you're the love of my life."
"So why don't you want me to be happy?" She replied, "Why don't you just leave me alone?"
"Alone?" He replied, "With your empty wine bottle and TiVo? I know you, Olivia. And if I could leave Mellie for you now, I would. If I you would let me – I would do it. I would go straight to the press myself, the second that I leave here."
"I. Love. You," He said powerfully, "And you have no idea how much I'm looking forward to not being President anymore."
"Don't," He stopped her, "Don't think about that. I can't be president that long. I wouldn't drag you along if this was going to be a lifelong thing. Livy, five hundred and forty-five days, we're more than halfway there."
"But what're we going to do until then?"
"Mellie can't know I'm seeing you," He replied and she raised an eyebrow.
"Mellie's apparently known the whole time," She pointed out, "What makes that an issue now?"
"She threatened to go to the press," He replied, "Honestly, as far as I'm concerned I'd be glad to let her. But, I don't think she will."
She would also drag Olivia's reputation through the mud, and they both knew it. It was unspoken as he gazed into her eyes.
"…or this can be our last goodbye."
"I don't want goodbye," Olivia replied, and he nodded.
"Didn't think you did, Liv," He said, "I don't usually ask questions that I don't already know the answer to."
She laid back against him, letting him hold her in his arms. Her brain was trying to tell her how bad it was, how awful a deal she had just made – but she didn't care. She was so miserable, so unhappy, and so heart broken. People would still come to her if it all came out, the desperate, she would be able to piece back together her reputation. Hell, who was she kidding. If this hit the press' ears, there would be no saving either of their reputations. They would basically be socially exiled, but they would be happy – and they would be together. And after all of this, she could appreciate that simple fact. She would fight like hell to keep her business, her reputation – but, let's face it. Her career was a ticking bomb before it had even started.
"You have to get back to the White House," She breathed and he nodded as she slipped off of his lap and onto the seat cushion beside him.
"Or, I could just stay here," He replied and she stood up.
"Fitz, I can't sacrifice everything for you," Her brain had taken over, "The odds are stacked way against us here. Give me a call in five hundred and forty-five days, we'll see what we can do then. I have to protect myself here."
"Five hundred and forty-four," He checked his watch as he joined her standing.
"Five hundred and forty-four," She corrected and he smiled, leaning in and kissing her softly.
She felt her body react to him almost immediately, and stepped closer as he wrapped her up in his arms tighter and tighter. It was like he was rescuing her sanity, like he was pulling her out of a trance, and back into reality. Bringing her attention back to what mattered, that they were in love. Who, in the history of the world, just had love handed to them? Everyone had to fight for what they wanted. They had just been given an interesting deck of cards.
"Does this mean you'll be waiting for me?"
Olivia gave him a scrutinizing look.
"I can't promise I'll be a nun…"
"Olivia," He said hoarsely, he was serious.
"Like I said, I never liked the idea of a woman waiting around for a man," She replied, "I'm single for another five hundred and forty four days."
"I guess I'm not in the greatest position to negotiate," He pulled her to the door, so that he could make an exit.
"You're not," She replied defiantly.
His only response was that he smirked – the way that made her feel like a little school girl. He knew it too, which only made him smile as he leaned in and pecked her softly, like it was commonplace. So perfect, so little, his fingertips running sexily down the side of her neck.
"I love you," He whispered, "Good Night, Livy-Answer your phone."
She closed the door right as he left, and her cell phone went off in her pocket.
"Abby?" She answered.
"It's a doozy, you better get in here."
"Send Huck? I'm gonna need a ride…"
"Consider him on his way."