AN: Hope you're all having a glorious week!

This is for J&L for the constant harassment.

And a shoutout to Aly for obvious reasons.


He's perched on her kitchen stool twisting the ends off a snap pea.

Her head is bowed as she cuts up vegetables, soft sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board filling his ears as distant melodic lyrics flow through the early 90's stereo system.

"I'm back to the velvet underground, back to the floor that I love."

In another lifetime this could be a date, a relationship, an evening alone with a beautiful woman.

But whatever this was right now – it feels very different.

He looks up at her a few times realising that there is an island counter top between them but it might as well be a football field. They've barely spoken two words since they returned from town and he can see things have shifted for her.

All that gazing, touching, joking around in town all seemingly causing her to clam up, harden - to shut down and he can tell having him in the intimate confines of her home is the cause. It was evident in the way she clutched the steering wheel on their drive back, her fingers flexing uneasily as reality started to dawn on her.

"Her face says freedom, with a little fear."

And he can sense it now in her stance, something is bothering her and it seems the only thing he can pin it on is his presence.

"I'm sorry Liv," he whispers, realising the carefree woman from that morning had all but dissipated.

She looks up at him, not at all surprised by his apology but still feigning confusion.

"For what?" She asks slowly, taking a small sip of her wine.

The wine he knows she pulled out because she was uncomfortable.

"She was just a wish and her memory is all that is left for you now."

He waits a few beats as poignant fragments of Fleetwood Mac continue to swirl around them.

"For being here," he says simply, his attention moving down to the snap pea in his fingers before he gently tears off the end. "I know this isn't ideal.. this - me, being here.. any of it really. I'm sorry to have put you in this position."

He looks up at her once more and she's staring at him with a look he can't read.

"I have no fear, I have only love."

"It's just…" she stumbles on her words, her eyes moving down to the counter as if the answer she was searching for was inscribed on it. "It is what it is El. I mean you've got just as much say in this as I do right?" She rubs her temple with the heel of her hand as not to get food on her face. "I just think it's.. strange for Cragen to suggest that this is some sort of solution. I mean do we even know how long...we're…you're.." her words trail off and he looks up at her.

"Trying to get rid of me already Liv?" He gives her a weak smile.

"No.. " she shakes her head, her expression jumbled as she tries to backtrack. "I'm just struggling to understand it." She explains. "I need facts okay.. about Thompson, Cragen – the plan, the story. I need to know what we're up against so I can make sense of it, because right now it's not making any ..and I can't just sit here cutting up vegetables, talking about bowling and ex husbands like nothing is wrong."

"Okay," he responds quietly, not realising the extent of her frustration on the matter. "What do you want to know?"

"Thompson, the plan.. who is involved here? Is he operating alone? Are we just sitting ducks? Do you even have an escape plan?" She rattles off. "And I mean are you and Kathy even…"

He looks up at her then and she stops mid sentence, her wine meeting the counter with a light clink as she realises they've moved into touchy territory.

She must be reading something in his expression because it appears something has dawned on her.

He tears the end of a pea off in waiting.

"Does she even know that you're here?" She waits a few beats. "Because if she does El, I mean it's strange right .. you staying here?" She gives him a look. "It's weird."

He drops the pea in his hand onto the plate and stares at her.

"Yeah Liv, it's weird."

She looks surprised that he's agreeing with her but not offering anything more.

"So she's just okay with you staying here.. away from the kids.. away from her.."

He scrubs a hand over his face, a little taken aback that it's his home life she's focusing on, not Thompson.

His chest starts to rise and fall a little faster, feeling that somehow admitting this to her is going to make him look like a failure in her eyes.

"We're legally separated Liv." He explains to the plate instead of her face.

He hears the knife still against the chopping board.

It feels like minutes before she speaks.

"Okay…" she whispers finally. "When did..when-"

"After the shooting." He looks up at her then and her eyes fill with surprise.

"Look," he shakes his head dismissively. "It doesn't matter Liv, it all started well before that, you know that as well as I do." He pauses a few beats to gauge her reaction. "But when Thompson hit, I guess it all just came crashing down.. she couldn't do it anymore.. I couldn't do it.." He gives her a look that's borderline apologetic. "And after you left, I guess I was a nightmare to live with... to work with.. all of it."

She is deathly silent.

Her knife stilling against the board as she watches him.

He knows exactly how it sounds.

He's basically admitting that nearly losing her had ruptured his relationship with his wife for good, not to mention effected his work life.

"Lightening strikes, maybe once, maybe twice.. "

His eyes move slowly in between hers, holding her eye contact until he says it.

"I guess in some way knowing you were out here ..was worse than not knowing about Oregon."

She lets out a breath, her expression unrecognisable.

He can tell he has really thrown her.

"Look," he clears his throat, trying to shake out the tension. "My personal life is… you don't need to worry about that Liv." He starts to sift through the pile of peas attempting to locate the unclipped one he dropped. "My number one priority right now is our safety out here okay, so lets just focus on that."

A few moments pass as she looks down at her partially cut vegetables.

"Maybe once, maybe twice."

He watches her knife start to cut into the full capsicum she's holding, the blade piercing through the bright green flesh causing a cheek to fall to the side.

She just looks at it rocking until it stills.

"So what about Thompson then?" She says quietly.

But he knows, he can't possibly throw the details of Thompson onto her too.

"Look.. I'll.. I'll tell you about him Liv," he gives her a look of assurance. "I promise, but can we just park it for tonight? It's been a long day, I haven't slept in 24 hours.." His words trail off.

She stares at him before she drops the knife with a clank.

"Fine," she mutters grasping a tin of tomato paste, seemingly done with the chopping for now. "Whatever you want."

He watches her struggle with the ring pull, her damp hands causing it to slip beneath her capture.

He stands up, moving around the counter to help her.

"Here I can-"

"I got it." She turns away from him but she must have pulled too violently because a whole gush of red liquid spills down the front of her blue shirt.

"Jesus." She lets out suddenly, slamming it down on the counter, speckles of sauce flicking up and splattering against her face, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

He watches her, taken aback by her outburst, slowly scooping the dish cloth off the counter before he hands it to her.

She takes it, looking away somewhat embarrassed, wiping the side of her face where it had splashed.

He considers making light of the situation but he can tell she's on edge, unsettled, completely thrown by all of this so he just allows her to navigate the redundant stain on her shirt.

She tosses the cloth down on the counter suddenly.

"See this is why I don't cook," she rasps.

He resists the urge to make a joke to ease the tension but something tells him to keep it contained.

"Liv," he whispers. "How bout I take over?" He picks the can up off the counter gently. "You go change.. shower if you like - I can finish up here."

He waits a few beats before he pulls the ring pull completely off the can, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

She turns around and she faces him suddenly.

"There isn't going to be enough sauce for the spaghetti." She mutters. "I'm wearing it."

He scratches his cheek, unable to help the smile tugging on his lips this time, the humour of the situation too much to conceal.

"Liv," He says honestly. "I could just as easily have cereal tonight. I don't care."

She stares at him for a few beats before she motions towards his cheek.

"You've.. you've got some too." She hands him the soiled towel and he wipes the side of his face she's indicating until it's clean.

They both just look at each other.

"And it all comes down to you.. you know that it does..."

The timely lyrics make his chest pulse with nerves and they both feel something in that moment that is undeniable.

She steps backwards suddenly, her hip bumping the counter before she corrects her stance.

"Okay I'm.. I'm gonna shower then," she explains quietly, barely meeting his eyes.

He nods, watching as she turns towards the bedroom, the lyrics trickling through his ears solidifying everything he already knows.

It all comes down to her.

TBC


AN: Song Credit: Gypsy, Fleetwood Mac.