At the reception that followed the christening, Fitz couldn’t help but be aware of Olivia wherever she was in the room. Outwardly she might seem normal to others,  making small talk and smiling at all the right places, but his senses couldn’t help but recognize the mask she wore over her feelings, just as much as he felt the one that covered his own. 

To keep his own mask firmly in place, Fitz poured himself another scotch as he watched her. He couldn’t stop watching her; even while he damned her silently over and over again.  If anyone noted the number of drinks he’d had since the celebration had begun, they’d at least had the good sense not to mention it. Not even Cyrus - the king of me, he’d once called him - hadn’t quite dared.

Not that the alcohol helped as much as he’d hoped it would. Complete oblivion was beyond him, but at least over the last few months it had fulfilled its promise to at least dull the pain enough that he could function.

He could hear her voice, if not her words as the others around her made small talk and she tried her best to respond; he could hear the catch in her voice that no one else seemed able to hear that told him that she was not her usual self. His words to her at Verna’s funeral had done their job. 

Good, a tiny voice whispered somewhere deep inside him. Let her hurt like he was hurting.

Cyrus, James and Ella took center stage for a moment while James made his speech about family - about love - words that caused his insides to knot up painfully even while he managed a brief smile. 

Again he looked at Olivia, saw her face still, with a smile on her face that couldn’t quite reach her eyes. She must have felt his eyes on her, because suddenly her gaze flicked in his direction for just a second. It was enough - she could see the darkness in them and Fitz felt a savage satisfaction surge through him as she quickly looked away. 

It wasn’t long after that that Fitz sensed her leaving. She tried to slip away from the celebration without being noticed, but he felt her presence leave the room without having to look for at her.  

He refused to think about what he was doing or why he was doing it; Fitz gulped down the last of his drink and followed her. He didn’t know why he was going after her, didn’t know what it was he wanted to say to her, didn’t even know what he was going to do to her until his hand was closing over her arm and he was jerking her into an electrical conduit room. 

The door slammed behind  them, leaving them in silence and the dim glow of conduits and circuits.

Before she could speak - before  he allowed himself to think - Fitz moved forward, taking her face between his hands before crushing her lips beneath his own. He could feel her resisting, but that only fueled the sharp and sudden need that flooded through him. There was no gentleness in him and a soft whimper escaped her just before Fitz kissed her again. Hate and pain, want and desire collided as his mouth descended once more upon hers. Unknowing, his hands dropped to draw her nearer.

Even as he felt Olivia tremble under the onslaught of his touch, she managed to slip one hand between them and push him half a step backwards. He didn’t see the other hand coming up until she slapped him hard enough to jerk his head back.

Fitz stared at her; seeing the hurt and confusion flood across her perfect features. Seeing it but refusing himself the same release. He was shattered inside - the foundation of everything he was and had thought he could  be and been fractured beneath his feet - and it was all because of her. 

He could see her pain; at one time it would have ripped his heart from his chest. But he had no heart - not any more. She had destroyed it. 

She had destroyed everything they’d had. 

How long they stood there staring at one another was a moment stolen from infinity that he would never be able to measure afterwards. It could have the space between one breath and the next; it could have been a lifetime. Within it all that existed was her eyes, luminous with emotion while the sound of her breathing - her short, sharp gasps - was the only sound filling the space between them.

As angry and hurt as she might be, there was no denying everything else she felt at his touch. That too, was reflected in her eyes. If the same was in his own, he refused to admit to it. 

Fitz stood unmoving as he watched the hurt and then the confusion in her eyes drain from her face.  Eyes fixed upon his, her body made a gesture of what - helplessness? -  but then in the next moment she was moving towards him, pressing herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. Now it was her lips pressing against his, kissing him back with enough force to send a surge of passion through them both with an all consuming fire. 

Thought left him then, reason left them both. Now there was only passion. Unthinking, unreasoning passion that burnt all sense of right and wrong, hurt and betrayal into ashes, into nothingness. 

All that mattered was the here and now. 

Now meant that Olivia was in his arms, her mouth - soft and as warm as he remembered - yearning - loving - opening to accept him, her arms reaching up to pull him closer.

Now meant the soft touch of her slender fingertips as they caressed his face; rediscovering the strong curve of his jaw, the crisp hair at his temples.

Now meant he could pull her closer and accept the gift of her kisses, like hidden treasure, they held a sweetness that he could never ever explain to or experience with anyone else. 

His flesh - if nothing else - was greedy for her. That’s the lie he told himself as Fitz found his mouth tracing the line of her arm as she pulled him closer. A silent gasp escaped him as her mouth found the line of his jaw and then the curves of his ear. Fitz felt her body arch hard against him as he lost himself in the scent of her.  

But he wanted, demanded more.  His mouth sought out the  tender flesh of her throat but was hampered by the style of the dress she wore; the high scoop of her dress denied him what he craved, the feel of her body

Again, action took the place of thinking; Fitz heard himself growl softly as he wrenched her around so that her back was to him, taking a moment to press his body hard against hers before his fingers fumbled at her zipper, dragging it down roughly. He would not be satisfied until some part of her was naked to his touch. As her flesh was bared to his heated gaze, Fitz groaned again as he allowed his mouth to swoop down, biting softly at her in that sweet juncture where her neck met her back. 

He pleased him to hear her helpless gasp; in response Fitz felt himself harden even more as he felt her fingers reaching behind to free him, to cup him boldly in her hands. 

Next thing he knew, he was freeing her from the scrap of silk between her thighs and with a soundless cry - with pleasure that was almost pain - he was plunging himself deep inside her.

Fitz felt himself go nearly mindless after being away from her for so long. In spite of all of his rage and all his hurt, all that mattered in the here and now was the scent of her rising up to drown his senses, the silkiness of her skin beneath his lips. 

He just wanted to bury himself in her, find what he had lost - what had once been his refuge from all his pain. Just for a few stolen moments, he wanted, needed to escape from the rawness of his pain.

They both found something, a remembrance of love and passion amidist the ruins of what had been once upon a time.

//**//

She  was unable to look at him as she stepped back into the hallway. Fitz followed, neither one of them speaking. Whatever had been in him earlier had burned itself out. 

He refused to look her in the eye as he walked past.

“I made a mistake.” Her words stopped him in his tracks when he would have kept on going.

He paused, still unwilling, unable, to look her in the eye. “We both did; it won’t happen again.” Against his will, his eyes came up to touch briefly with her own. If he let her, Olivia would break his heart all over again and he couldn’t allow that to happen. 

She made a soft, wordless sound of pain. “I- I meant Defiance.”

Good, she was going to make it easy for him. With that word between them, he could ward his heart against her all over again. Fitz turned and stepped closer to her. 

“That wasn’t a mistake - that was betrayal. We are done.” He told himself to ignore the jolt of pain that made her body jerk in response.  

Her eyes had dropped from his but not before he saw the numbed disbelief in them. 

Something else that was him and not him all at once spoke the words before he realized what he was going to say. It wanted her pain. 

“I may not be able to control my erections around you, but that does not mean that I want you.” He drove the knife home, slowly speaking his next words to make sure she heard them clearly. 

“We. Are. Done.”

Just as he turned away, Cyrus appeared down the hall, calling him back to his duties.

It was Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, President of the United States who walked away from her and never looked back. 

A bitter laugh welled up from inside of him. If he were still alive, his father would be proud.