Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Home From Florida

"And you too. Thanks," she told him. She waited patiently for her partner to look into her eyes.

"For what?" he asked her.

"For trusting me."

It was a simple, honest answer. For trusting me. He studied her sincere eyes that held a promise to him. A promise of honesty. No more games.

"Wanna get out of here? Go talk?" he said, careful to not sound too hopeful.

She nodded in response to the expected question. "Yeah," she half whispered.

Sharing one last lingering gaze among the hustle in front of her brother's home, Elliot mimicked Olivia's nod and headed to the sedan. A familiar sense of calm washed over him, for this time he knew she would follow.

***

The car ride had been quiet aside from the crackling of their police radio. Olivia silently hoped to hear Dispatch report a scene en route back to Manhattan and wondered if her partner was wishing for the same thing. Then she caught herself. No more games. That was their deal, sealed with a single look back in the front lawn of Simon Marsden's upstate home.

Remembering their pact, Olivia turned towards Elliot. She studied his profile as he concentrated on the road. She knew he knew she was watching him, and even though he didn't acknowledge it, the tension in the car decreased.

"Where should we go?" she asked him.

She expected a shrug, or an "I don't know" but was pleasantly surprised.

"The park. It's cold but we can manage," he said definitively. Elliot decided on the location a couple of exits back along I-94. One of their places would only add pressure, the house was not the appropriate place, and the bar was out of the question. There would be no alcohol this time.

"Okay," Olivia answered.

***

They circled half of the field where the 1-6 barbeque was held the summer before. Their hands were stuffed in their pockets and their chins were tucked downwards, allowing them to study the paved tar. Clearing his throat, Elliot decided it was time to broach a subject both were hesitant to discuss.

"I know why you never came to me during the whole Marsden thing," he said, now surveying the trees bordering the field. Olivia remained silent and allowed Elliot to finish. "I get it. And I also get how it really got to you. This was really personal, if you let me in it would get…complicated right?" he paused. "Wasn't a formal SVU case, and after what happened between us the other night, it would allow me to get too close, and you aren't sure—we aren't sure—if we can handle that." He stopped again. "I get it."

Once he was done, Olivia slowly came to a stop by a bench which sat between the trees and path, facing the field. Without sitting she turned to her partner, the "posterboy for rage," her supposed closest friend who lately has been a stranger. As she looked at him gazing anywhere but into her eyes she realized the damage they've caused by gradually pushing each other away. Keeping it as professional as possible, transforming their relationship into a standard, platonic, business colleague. It wasn't going well for them, perhaps that's why "the other night" happened.

"We aren't sure because we haven't talked about it," Olivia said, finally taking a seat on the bench.

Elliot turned towards her, giving her a once-over glance, trying to decipher her attitude. Rubbing the front of his face he began to seat himself next to her. "That's why we're here isn't it?" he asked, finally looking into her eyes.

"Do you regret it?" she bluntly asked him. She cursed herself for sounding so desperate and needy for closure. Without giving him a chance to answer she continued. "Clearly it was a drunken night Elliot. It happened, we can't change it. You know that, I know that. And so far, it hasn't gotten in the way at work and I don't intend for that to change." She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

Slouching against the back of the bench, Elliot clasped his hands in his lap. "You're right."

As a few seconds of silence passed, Olivia couldn't take it any longer. "We slept together Elliot. Come on, help me out here. Talk to me."

With a frustrated look in her direction he reminded himself that this was his idea. No more games. Time to go for broke.

"We've had rough cases before, have gone out and had drinks before and we never ended up going back to your place for sex." He stopped speaking suddenly, disappointed with how he started.

"The only thing I regret Liv is that we were drunk the first time we were together."

There. He said it. He went for broke.

Olivia slightly gasped at his admission, surprised he allowed himself to be in such a vulnerable position. With sadness in her eyes she whispered, "The first time?"

Sighing loudly he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Yes. It's not how I ever pictured it with you," he quietly replied, his hoarse voice blending with the breeze. He turned his head to briefly look behind him at her. He sat up and crossed his arms, in an attempt to calm his nerves.

"Me neither," came Olivia's admission. She captured his eyes with his, sharing another moment with him.

Without breaking eye contact, Elliot stood and held out a hand to her. She gracefully took it and stood facing him, their fingers now limply laced together.

"Wha—What do we want? What can we handle?" asked Elliot.

She tried to break eye contact. She tried to look anywhere else. But his blue eyes softly demanded her attention. "I don't know. Should we see where it goes? Make sure we don't ruin what we have? No title, no pressure?"

"You're saying we need to get our close friendship back first?"

Olivia nodded.

"Okay. Good. That sounds good." Elliot smiled tightly, still nervous. "Let's go get you warm Miss Benson; coffee okay? My treat."

"Do I get to go to Starbucks?" she joked.

"You want me to splurge on you? I thought we were taking this slow?" Elliot laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

The two detectives continued along the path, circling the rest of the field on their way to the car and the new, near future.