DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are mine. Unfortunately. Sigh.

A/N: Okay, here are all of the chapters of this story, re-done and re-posted. Thanks again everyone for sticking with me! Hopefully I've figured this one out! :)


Elliot watched his partner stride into the house confidently. Her sexy walk always drove him crazy, he couldn't help but watch her. Coming or going, it didn't matter. She looked good.

She looked even better setting a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. "Black, two sugars," she said, walking around to her desk.

"You're a Godsend," he muttered, peeling off the top of the to-go cup and inhaling the warm, earthy scent of the coffee from the deli around the corner. It was so much better than the sludge Munch had made an hour ago.

"I know," she flashed a sexy half-smile at him and sat down, opening her drawer and throwing her keys inside. Olivia wasn't one to carry a purse. "We got anything?" she asked him once she was settled in.

"Not a thing," Elliot informed her.

Olivia sighed. She hated slow days. "Looks like a good time for paperwork." She opened a file that had lain long dormant on her desk.

They worked across one another in silence for an hour or so. Olivia finally stood and stretched.

"Where you going?" Elliot asked her as she started to make her way from the room.

She turned halfway and cocked her hips. Another thing that drove him crazy. "I just remembered, I think I left a sweatshirt up in the crib the other night, when we pulled that all-nighter. I'm just going to see if it's still up there." She smiled at Elliot and made her way up the stairs.

After a few minutes, Elliot made his way up the stairs to check on her, to see if she needed any help finding her sweatshirt. He opened the door and called her name softly into the darkness of the crib. "Liv?" He shut the door behind him and looked around. "Liv?"

Finally, she was there, covering his mouth with hers, running her fingertips along his neck, pulling him even closer. He breathed in her heady scent and moved his lips against hers, running his tongue along her bottom lip. His hands found his way to her hips and he ran his thumbs along the skin he found just under the hemline of her shirt.

She broke the kiss. "I thought you'd never get here," she whispered, reaching behind him and clicking the lock on the door. It was one of the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard.

Her eyes locked onto his and she smiled. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and thanking God for making her, his beautiful partner.

"Elliot," she whispered, running her fingers down his cheeks. He opened his eyes and found her again in the darkness. She leaned forward and kissed him again, opening her mouth and finding his tongue with her own.

He ran his hands down her hips and over her ass, hooking them under her thighs and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her long legs around his waist and he moved them to their chosen spot, a bed that didn't squeak and had molded to their bodies.

Elliot thought back to a case they'd caught several weeks ago. Olivia had a rough go of it and had come up either to catch a few moments of sleep or to cry. Elliot still didn't know which. He found her there, on their bed, and smiled softly to himself. It was in that moment that he realized it was more than sex, it always had been.

He loved her.

Now, in the moments following their tryst, they lay there, catching their breaths and wiping the sheen of sweat off their brows. Olivia turned her head to look at him at the same moment he turned his head to look at her. They grinned at each other and Elliot brought his hand up to brush a piece of hair from her face, touching her softly, intimately, sweetly. His hand rested there and she brought her own hand up to meet him, turning her face slightly to kiss his palm.

He saw her eyes register something, felt her fingers move over the fourth finger on his left hand. Shit. She'd felt his wedding ring. He always made sure to take it off before they were together. It was his way of letting her know that he preferred her; that to him, his marriage didn't exist; that he wanted her; that she wasn't just a quick fuck. Olivia was the real woman in his life, the one who knew him best. The wedding ring was something he wore out of obligation; his wife had mothered his five children and he had a responsibility to them. He and Kathy were done.

With this new development between he and Olivia, Elliot had started to meet with a lawyer to draw up papers to legally divorce Kathy, but those terribly important documents weren't ready yet and he had to bide his time.

Olivia suddenly sat up quicker than he'd thought it was possible for someone to move and began replacing the clothing his nimble fingers had removed just moments before. She was avoiding him. She was angry.

"Olivia," he said softly. "Liv, please."

"I suggest you get dressed, Detective." Shit. She only called him "detective" when she was really pissed.

He began pulling on his dress pants and shirt, fumbling with each button.

She pulled a sweatshirt from under the bed; she'd obviously planted it there to have a reason to come up here with him. "Found my sweatshirt. Thanks for the help." She started to make her way out of the room.

"Olivia," he said firmly, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him.

"Get your hands off me." She had fire in her eyes and Elliot immediately dropped his grip. "Don't touch me," she spat at him.

"Olivia, please, let me explain…"

"Explain what, Detective?" Olivia said. "Explain what? That your frigid wife doesn't give you any at home and I'm a nice warm body?"

Elliot kept his anger in check. "You know that's not true," he spoke, his voice pleading.

"Do I?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do I? I mean, really, Elliot, what the fuck are we doing here?"

"We're… we're…" Elliot searched for the words but couldn't find any to accurately express what exactly Olivia was to him.

"That's what I thought," she hissed. She turned to go again.

"Liv, wait," he reached for her again.

She didn't even turn this time, but called over her shoulder, "I'm done waiting." And with that, the door slammed behind her.

"Fuck," Elliot muttered, dropping down on the bed. It was still warm, it still held her shape. He ran his hand across it, pretending it was her. He always felt more empty when she wasn't by his side. And now she was beyond angry with him. How had he managed to fuck things up so badly… before they even really got started?

Olivia barely spoke to Elliot the rest of the day. No cases came in, so it was a silent, awkward afternoon. And soon, it was time to go. Olivia closed her latest case file, stood up and turned off her desk lamp. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and started to make her way out of the room.

Elliot jumped up before she could go. "Olivia," he said, practically chasing her down the hall. "Olivia, please. Can't we talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about, El?" She wouldn't look at him and pressed the button to call the elevator.

"Please," he pleaded with her. "Let me take you to dinner."

"What are we, dating now?" Olivia finally looked at him, her eyes angry, her voice biting. "No, thanks." The elevator dinged and the doors opened. She boarded it and just before the doors closed, she spoke the words that betrayed her hurt the most.

"Go home to your wife."

Elliot buried his face in his hands and fought the urge to scream. He walked back to his desk, gathered his things and left.

As he drove home, he thought about Olivia. Of course. He thought about their first time together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it reality, it was just a few short weeks.

It was a hard case, Olivia's life had been in danger. A perp held her hostage, a gun to her temple. Olivia wept openly as Elliot, firearm aimed at the perp's head, fought to maintain his composure. He was terrified.

"Elliot," Olivia had called to him. "We promised we wouldn't do this. Take the God damn shot."

Elliot had faltered and Olivia had seen he wouldn't do it. She'd taken matters into her own hands, lifting one of her booted legs into the man's genitals. Hard. While he was distracted, she went for the gun. It went off, grazing her side. She hit the ground like a ton of bricks and Elliot had his shot. He took it before he could think. The perp went down and uniforms closed in.

Elliot went right for Olivia. "Liv!" he'd cried out to her. "Liv, oh God, Liv." He gathered her in his arms and laid her back against in chest. The bullet had grazed her high along her ribcage and as she lifted her shirt to inspect her wound, Elliot had caught a glimpse of the lace lingerie she was wearing. He reached his fingers down to touch her skin and she gasped. Afraid he'd hurt her, he moved his hand away. But as she looked at him, he saw the love in her eyes, the relief, the desire. He touched her again.

"Elliot," she had whispered. And in that moment, they knew things were different.

She'd gone home after being inspected at the hospital. And an hour later, Elliot was knocking on her door. Olivia had opened the door for him, but neither of them had spoken a word.

It was Elliot who had stepped forward and touched his lips to hers. Elliot had made the first move.

It was all his fault.

Olivia had gone along willingly these last several weeks. Elliot suspected that she'd loved him just as long as he had loved her. Therefore, she was willing to not ask questions about his marriage. They'd spent many an evening in her bed, sharing their bodies, sharing languid kisses and pillow talk. It was never strange, but perfect. Every time.

And now he'd fucked it up. By reminding Olivia that he was still married and by not discussing his plans with her sooner. He'd made her into The Other Woman, when in fact, she was the only woman.

Elliot sighed and continued the long drive to Queens. He decided that perhaps he should give her some space. She was a strong, independent woman. He had no right to presume she even wanted to see him. He felt certain that distance from him was what she wanted.

Elliot determined from that moment on to give her everything she wanted.