{This story is unfinished but you are welcome to read it and enjoy}
"Two dominants don't work together," I told him sternly, looking at him with uneasy eyes that disagreed with my authoritative tone. A warm sensation I wasn't quite sure I would get...
"What the hell, Fitz?" My heart lethargically began to wither back down to its usual pace, and I ensured that I placed the safety lock onto the gun once more before I lowered it at my side. Despite knowing that I was speaking with the President of the United States, I refused to step aside and allow one of the most powerful men in the world into my abode. As far as Olivia had informed me, she wasn't expecting him, and with all of the less than flattering stories my friend had told me about the way he'd been treating her as of late, he was definitely not on my good side. "You don't roll up to people's houses at midnight, especially with-," I held my tongue in a futile effort to maintain the intel about Sudan and the Soviet Union (Russia) under wraps, "The point is, I could have shot you!" His jaw bunched in vexation whilst his eyes still wandered past me and into my condo trying to scout out Olivia with those greenish glazed blue eyes of his. An eye roll of epic proportions escaped me. "She's upstairs, and you're not going to see her until you tell me why you're here," I stated lamely, aware that using Liv as a negotiating coin would get the response I sought.
"I need to talk to her," he demanded, leaning toward me with a beet red face due to his apparent aggravation. I chuckled maliciously and rested an arm on the door frame that kept him from entering my space.
"You came to New York at midnight with the Secret Service Detail just to 'talk' to her? You can't do that over the phone? What the fuck is up, Fitz? I'm not going to ask you again." He dodged my icy glare and sighed loosely before leaning in even closer to me so that the following words we exchanged would only be heard by the two of us. When I finally lured in his eye contact with a beckoning snap, I could dissect the essence of sympathy in his orbs, making my gut clench into a ball at the pit of my stomach. Not many have the gall to empathize with me for they know that empathy can often times be a sign of someone looking down on you and your life. I would've been damned if I let anyone ever look down on me.
"Leo called." He needn't say more. I graciously stepped off toward the side and granted him access to my home, shutting the door when the two Secret Service agents opted to stand outside on either side of my doorframe. Olivia was standing at the top of the stairs, awaiting my return, and fuming when she saw her... boyfriend, fiancé, ex, lover, hell it was always hard to tell what the two were, they were so on-again-off-again.
"Fitz." Some hypnotizing stare ignited between the two of them as if they had telepathic powers that allowed them to converse without saying a word. Quite frankly, it made me feel awkward and third wheel-esque in my own condo.
"Olivia." She eventually descended the steps and stood in front of him with shoulders pressed downward and back and her chin hoisted ever so slightly.
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He, on the other hand, hadn't moved a muscle at the nearness of her. The sight reminded me faintly of a face-off between a black panther and a lion- Liv was the black panther of course, and Fitz was the lion. Black panthers work swiftly, stealthily, and quickly. They're unpredictable because they never lay all of their cards on the table, and they never strike their opponent until their opponent strikes them first. Lions are one trick ponies. They roar, they exert their power, and they pounce before they even think out their strategies. But, if a lion strikes successfully, it can be fatal. All I had to do was wait for Fitz to provoke Olivia.
