"You know it's true Liv," he continues. "And I'm sorry I broke your trust, but each of us needed to figure out our lives without the influence of the other."

"Who are you to have decided that for me?" She asks, turning and advancing on him abruptly. "Do you have any idea what you put me through?

She slaps him and calls it a favor. It could've been a right hook or that infamous elbow of hers. After rethinking it she feels he's due more, taking another swing. He catches her forearm in mid strike. When she tries with the left he repeats the same.

"Don't you touch me," he seethes, holding both arms in his hands.

"Really?" She asks with sarcasm. "I thought you wanted my hands on you," she taunts.

He stands with his chest heaving, blue eyes that have darkened to a near black fixated on the ire of her browns.

"Don't," he says through clenched teeth.

"So…you don't want me anymore Elliot," she continues, mocking him. "I no longer…tempt you?"

She sees his eyes dart down to her lips for the tiniest of seconds but she knows she has him none the less.

"Now who's the coward?"

Elliot can no longer take her ridiculing. He accepts her challenge by pulling her against him, crashing his lips against hers. She resists at first, pulling back initially, but he chases. The kiss is frenzied, animalistic.

He releases her when he realizes she's not trying to get away, but instead trying to get closer. The second he does, Olivia's arms are around his neck, removing the distance between them and kissing him back deeply, passionately.

After opening her mouth to him she doesn't know whether it's his tequila she tastes or her own. He moves his lips from her mouth to her neck, grazing the skin with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue.

She feels his hands roaming her back, feeling for the clasp.

"Side," she instructs him.

He pulls back momentarily, looking into her eyes. When he locates the zipper, he moves it down slowly, appreciating each inch of flesh revealed as he goes. But she doesn't want the wait, she wants the urgency. A slow pace gives her time to think and that's the last thing she wants to do.

She rips his shirt open and the buttons fly out all over the floor. Her lips are on his again shortly thereafter, reminding him of their previous pace. Olivia untucks his tank from his pants, smoothing it up his body before he decides to yank it up and off himself.

"I want you," he manages in between kisses.

"No shit," she says, loosening his belt.

Olivia steps out of her shoes, as he walks her backwards with his mouth still attached to her throat. First they hit a fern, knocking the plant over but it doesn't stop them. Then they hit the wall with the back of her head, causing one of the framed shots of the city to hit the floor and break.

"Sorry," he says.

Olivia doesn't give a damn, doesn't stop. She kisses him again, delving into his mouth and biting his bottom lip.

"Ow," he says, pausing to look at her.

"Now we're even," she tells him.

He grabs a fistful of her hair, slightly tugging her head to sink his teeth on her neck before soothing it with his tongue. She would protest if it hadn't turned her on even more.

Elliot ditches his shoes and pants as they continue down the hall. He all but rips the dress from her body along the way. They pause again when they reach his bedroom as he reaches for the clasp of her bra. Olivia tosses it aside as he moves his hands down her back and over her ass before grasping the back of her thighs.

Her legs are wrapped around his waist as he carries her to the bed. She's deposited, unceremoniously so, on the top of the covers as he climbs over her, landing between her thighs.

Olivia's allowing him to kiss her slowly as she moves her hands down his sides, sliding them into his black boxer briefs so she can push them down his legs. He quickly kicks them off before realigning himself with her.

Elliot kisses his way from her mouth to her collar bone before going lower, pausing to lick between her breasts. He moves to his right, capturing one toffee colored bud into his mouth, suckling it as she begins to moan.

He scrapes his teeth over it causing her to hiss before repeatedly circling it with his warm tongue. Reflexively she drags her fingernails across his back causing the same reaction.

Two can play this game. The verbal altercations their capable of seems to have taken on a life of its own in this new form.

While his mouth is busy, his left hand wonders beneath the waist of the black lace thong she chose for the night. When he moves pass the small patch of curls, she brings her right leg up further, bending it at the knee to encourage him.

He parts her, rubbing his rough fingers against the most intimate of folds. Minutes later he's covering her mouth again, swallowing the gasp of her first orgasm. They are skin to skin, as he waits for her to come back to herself.

"Do you miss me?" He asks.

"Stop talking," she tells him, pulling him down for another kiss.

She knows Elliot, knows he doesn't appreciate her not answering him. To hell with him, now he knows how it feels. But he can be vindictive too so he takes advantage of their positions and states of dress, rubbing his length against her damp panties.

She hates when she's not the one doing the teasing.

Olivia flips them so that she's now on top. She rubs hardened nipples against what little hair he has on his chest causing him to groan. But the sweet friction is turning her on just as much so she employs a different tactic, moving her hand lower to wrap around him.

Elliot allows her to stroke him for all of two seconds before ripping away her panties.

"Son of a bitch," she says. "That was La Perla you ass."

"And you owe me a shirt," he responds before flipping them again. "Now we're even," he adds, mocking her.

He parts her legs wider, kneeling in front of her. Elliot teases her for a moment before languidly slipping inside. When she grabs her thighs to pull her closer, he inevitably sinks deeper, finding the perfect spot.

She's never been a screamer but the urge to do so has never hit her as hard as it is at the moment and unfortunately for her, he knows it. He leans over her, planting his hands on either side of her head before dipping into her mouth.

Elliot punishes that site, over and over again with each thrust. A minute later, she can't help but be vocal about what he's doing to her. Her moans, and screams only spur him on and he quickens the pace.

For all her challenging and goading, she's the one that's lost her composure and doesn't feel the least bit regretful about it. She feels it building, her orgasm, and it will not be a weak one.

A short time later it hits full force, causing her to arch her back off the bed and spasm beneath him. Elliot takes the opportunity to slow down while she doesn't have the energy to change his mind.

"I miss you," he whispers near her ear.

He takes his time now, sweetly kissing her shoulder, each eyelid, then tip of her nose. When he returns to her lips it's no longer frenzied. He parts them tenderly with his own before sliding his tongue alongside hers.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters as he sweetly sweeps her hair behind her ear.

She's still pissed at him and hates this gentle side, this refusal to just…screw each other's brains out without feeling the attachment. There were times when she'd say the most hateful things to him and he'd simply walk away or ignore it without firing back.

That's the part of him she's experiencing right now. His pace is leisurely, caressing the soft skin of her cheek while taking in the satisfied expression on her face. There's no way she'll be able to look at him the same after this, nor he her.

Elliot reaches for her hands and intertwines their fingers as she rides out her third orgasm, while he's finding his first. It renders her speechless as he collapses to the side of her and he pulls Olivia to him, torsos touching.

His forehead is against hers while both their eyes are closed. From an outsider's point of view, the places where Elliot starts and she ends is undistinguishable. They are a bundle of arms and legs, twisted up in one another. Olivia can feel the edges of slumber incessantly tugging at her mind.

She's falling asleep with the sensation of his fingertips up and down her spine and his breaths whispering against her lips.

"Be angry with me Liv, just don't hate me," he tells her. "I couldn't take that."

It's the last thing she remembers before slipping into darkness.

Her only saving grace is that they didn't exchange numbers or addresses. So the only way he could find her is if Munch told him where she's moved to. And though he's a nosey little beanpole, he wouldn't just…

Three rhythmic knocks sound at the door.

Son of a bitch.

She hopes it's anyone other than who she knows it is. Let it be a little girl selling Girl Scout cookies, she thinks. Let it be Munch trying to apologize for forcing Elliot back into her life or hell, maybe even a Jehovah's Witness asking if she's heard the "good news".

The knocking repeats, harder this time.

Olivia exhales roughly before deciding that he'd likely kick the door in if she tried to pretend she wasn't home. She opens it to find a very brawny, pissed off looking man standing on the other side of her threshold. If clothes really reflect a person's mood, then the fact that he's dressed in black jeans, boots, and leather jacket can't be good.

"How the hell do you know where I live?"

"The same way I knew where you'd be last night," he replies. "Munch."

She wonders if she can plead temporary insanity if she drove to his loft and strangled him with her bare hands.

"You gonna invite me in?"

Olivia turns to resume her post on the sofa and he follows her inside. She curls up in one corner, pulling her knees against her chest. Grabbing the remote, she turns the volume down on a home renovation show.

"You forgot these," he says, digging into his pocket.

Elliot pulls out the sapphire and diamond earrings she realized she was missing once she'd made it to her apartment. Since there was no way in hell she was going back to his place to get them, she'd counted them as a loss. They were a gift from a past relationship anyway.

"I found them in my sheets," he adds, laying them on her coffee table. "They look kind of pricey so I thought you might want 'em back."

"Thanks."

"So," he starts, stuffing his hands in his front pockets. "Is sneaking out of bed the morning after a habit of yours or-

"Screw you Elliot," she says getting up from the sofa.

"You've already done that," he retorts.

"Get the hell out," she fumes. "We're done and you're not getting another five minutes," she adds as he follows her to the door.

When Olivia opens it, he shuts it again, caging her between it and his body. Elliot leans in so close she can feel the words that come out of his mouth.

"I think we both know our "talking" took a lot longer than that," he rasps. "So no, we're not done. Not until you can tell me why you couldn't be bothered to stick around this morning."

She's not threatened by Elliot. There are no PTSD flashbacks from Lewis entering her mind and she knows he'd never physically hurt her. Besides which, she has some self-defense moves she hadn't possessed since last she saw him. And fortunately for him, Olivia doesn't see the need to employ any of them where he's concerned.

"You need to leave," she tries, avoiding his challenge.

"No," he says. "You owe me an explanation."

She pushes him away so hard he nearly hits the opposite wall.

"Well give me about three years and I'll come up with one," she smarts off, walking into the kitchen. "I promise you it'll be better than yours."

"That was the truth!" He yells, following behind as she starts a pot of coffee.

She doesn't really want any, she just needs something to do and a reason to create distance from Elliot. He's beginning to get to her.

"Lower your voice," she orders. "I have neighbors you know."

"You weren't worried about my neighbors last night," he quips but lowers his voice. "First it was the screaming match and then it was…moaning and more screaming," he says, closing in on her in the small space. "But in a good way."

"Look, we both had fun," she acknowledges. "Consider it closure and leave it at that," she suggests.

"Why'd you leave this morning Liv?" He rasps, less than a foot away. "Just tell me…please."

Olivia doesn't want to, doesn't want to feel what she's feeling, and hates how one night with him has stirred up so much emotion. And despite how long it's taken, he finally told her the truth. Maybe she should try the same.

"Because," she begins. "Old habits are hard to break and I still don't…I don't like to ask anyone for anything, they have a tendency to disappoint me."

She pointedly stares at him after the comment but he stands and takes her scrutiny, knowing he deserves it.

"You're right," he admits. "And I can't apologize enough for making the decision to leave without telling you and especially for not saying goodbye," he continues. "You deserved better."

"I did…I do," she says, facing the counter and turning away from him.

"You do," he says, nearly whispering. "And you gotta know," he continues, placing a hand on her lower back. "It wasn't just sex…not for me."

It's too much and it's been too long.

"Why last night?" She asks, ignoring his comment. "Why at all?"

"Why what?"

"Why choose New Year's Eve three years later to try and explain yourself?" She asks, turning to face him again and effectively dropping his hand from her back. "You got exactly what you wanted," she tells him. "We've figured out our lives without the other's influence."

"I didn't-

"You didn't what, Elliot," she interrupts. "Realize it would take so long to get your shit together?'

He leans back against the counter, resting his hands next to him.

"No," he responds, surprising her. "I didn't. But I finally have, and it took a year after the divorce to figure out what I wanted and two months to convince John to help me."

Good old Munch. They're going to have a very long conversation about all of this. And she may even let him keep some teeth afterwards.

"Help you what?" She asks, mimicking his position at the counter.

"Apologize," he says. "And find out what chance I had to uncomplicate things between us," he adds, turning his head to gauge her reaction.

Olivia rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She's really starting to hate that word. Complicated.

"What do you want from me Elliot?"

"I want you not to hate me," he tells her.

"Fine," she says, walking past him. "I don't hate you, now you can go."

She's halfway across the living room when she feels his hand on her arm, turning her to face him.

"What do you want?" Elliot asks. "Because I miss you Liv," he asserts. "I've never been so…connected to a person, not even Kathy and I need that back in my life," he tells her. "I need you back in my life."

Olivia's eyes grow wide at his bold confession but she quickly recovers. She's not used to this honest and open version of her former partner. There are no assumptions, no having to draw her own conclusions.

He picks up the hands she has dangling at her sides, taking them in his, caressing his thumbs over her knuckles before stepping closer. He's quiet for a few seconds, just staring at their hands before continuing.

"I'm done disappointing you," he says, nearly whispering. "You don't have to be afraid to ask me for anything," he proposes.

Olivia looks back in forth between his eyes and can't come up with a response. When she looks down and away, he takes that to mean that she wants nothing from him. He places a chaste kiss against her forehead, releases her hands and takes a step back.

"I uh," he begins, rubbing his forehead. "I'll just go then," he says, walking past her towards the door.

Before he can get there, it's Olivia who stops him. She tugs him towards her, taking his face in her palms. There's a split second pause before she's kissing him. It's not as aggressive as it was last night because there's less anger. But, it's just as passionate.

When he opens his mouth to speak, she caresses the roof of it with her tongue and he groans in response. Olivia moves her hands from his face to his shoulders, smoothing his jacket down and onto the floor.

His hands are all over her then, finding their way beneath the over-sized sweatshirt to the soft skin of her back. It's a pleasant surprise for him that Olivia decided to forgo a bra after her morning shower.

Thirty minutes later they're naked on her sofa, covered by her throw blanket. She's lying on his chest between his legs, caressing the skin of his stomach, while Elliot has a hand threaded through her short locks.

"I told you old habits were hard to break," she says, breaking the silence. "So this is me…trying to do that," she tells him.

"Well it is a new year," he points out. "There's no better time to break a habit than today," he suggests. "Ask me Liv…whatever you want."

"Okay."

Silence reigns in the apartment, save for the low volume on the television, now playing some house flipping show.

"Two things," Olivia says after a few minutes, interrupting the quiet. "First, never use the word 'complicated' again when you're talking about us."

"Wait, there's an us?" He asks, hopefully.

"Focus Elliot," she tells him.

"Right," he says. "And second?"

Olivia raises up then, planting her arms on either side of him as she lowers her mouth to his.

"This time," she whispers against his lips. "Just…stay."

"For as long as you want me," he says, closing the distance and kissing her again.

Olivia and Elliot ring in the New Year and a new start together, having closed the door and what was, so they can enjoy what is yet to come.

Munch is apparently, a lot wiser than he seems.