SCANDAL: Impossible. Close. (Olivia/Fitz)
Title: Impossible. Close.
Fandom: Scandal
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters/plot, nor am I making any amount of money from this.
Summary: Their first 'one minute'.
Rating: T
Pairings: Olivia/Fitz
Words: 250~
"Good morning."
Olivia looks up and, no. Not now, but damned if she can't stop herself from responding.
"Good morning, Governor Grant."
Her voice is measured and nearly peppy, all of the things she's not with him standing there, impossible and close. She has to move, and she swears she gives it her best shot because she's across the room as fast as she can without running and it still doesn't work because now she's outside the room, hallway as deserted as it's ever been and he's there.
She can't run a second time.
"I'm married."
She knows and says so.
"I'm running for president."
She knows that too, with all the hours she's been logging to turn him into a president.
"I can't-"
"I don't want you to." She lies and it sounds like a lie but she won't give in without at least trying. He's talking again and all she can do is follow his lips and try to keep her mind, try to remind herself that he's married, he's running for president, he can't.
"Just-" his breath catches and the sound of his voice is killing her, "Stand here with me."
Impossible.
"For one minute."
Close.
She looses the breath she's been holding, wets her lips with her tongue, and tightens the hold she has on the papers filled with poll numbers and memos and strategies because she has to hold on to something if she can't even hold her breath, much less hold her ground against this.
"One minute."
Notes: Damn it, I ship them.
Fandom: Scandal
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters/plot, nor am I making any amount of money from this.
Summary: Their first 'one minute'.
Rating: T
Pairings: Olivia/Fitz
Words: 250~
"Good morning."
Olivia looks up and, no. Not now, but damned if she can't stop herself from responding.
"Good morning, Governor Grant."
Her voice is measured and nearly peppy, all of the things she's not with him standing there, impossible and close. She has to move, and she swears she gives it her best shot because she's across the room as fast as she can without running and it still doesn't work because now she's outside the room, hallway as deserted as it's ever been and he's there.
She can't run a second time.
"I'm married."
She knows and says so.
"I'm running for president."
She knows that too, with all the hours she's been logging to turn him into a president.
"I can't-"
"I don't want you to." She lies and it sounds like a lie but she won't give in without at least trying. He's talking again and all she can do is follow his lips and try to keep her mind, try to remind herself that he's married, he's running for president, he can't.
"Just-" his breath catches and the sound of his voice is killing her, "Stand here with me."
Impossible.
"For one minute."
Close.
She looses the breath she's been holding, wets her lips with her tongue, and tightens the hold she has on the papers filled with poll numbers and memos and strategies because she has to hold on to something if she can't even hold her breath, much less hold her ground against this.
"One minute."
Notes: Damn it, I ship them.