She opened her eyes only to close them again right away, blinking at the brightness. Her first sensation was being hot, uncomfortably so, and covered in sweat, old make-up and other things. She felt disgusting. So her first instinct was to push the sheet aside, except that of course, she was naked underneath. Naked because…oh no. She opened her eyes again, trying to get them to adjust to the unfamiliarly bright room. They hadn't bothered to close the blinds last night, and the sun was glaring onto the bed despite the early hour –a quick glance at his alarm confirmed that it was only 6:13am- and the forecast of morning storms she recalled. It was supposed to become a humid, oppressive July Tuesday but right now, the only thing that felt oppressive was the heated sheet on her bare legs. She rubbed at her eyes, discovering the delightful smear of old mascara on her fingertips, and was about to quietly sneak out of bed when she heard a mumbled "Morning" coming from the human sprawled out next to her who was clearly hogging the larger part of the bed.

"Morning." She needed to get out of here, take a quick shower at home and get to work.

He opened his eyes and turned onto his side, watching her as she sat up, pulling the sheet up to her armpits, with a serious expression on his face. She got the nagging suspicion that he wasn't only just waking up by coincidence. "Hey."

She attempted a smile, unpleasantly self-conscious of what she must look like. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I did. You?"

"Me too."

"So last night…" He sat up as well, because this was clearly not a lying down conversation, running his hand down his face. "Was that a mistake?"

It was the verbalisation of her own thoughts, but the blunt question hit home nonetheless. She would have been good with ignoring it for a little while and acting nonchalant. But clearly, he wasn't feeling any dewy summer morning romance here, either. And he was supposed to be the one who was more certain. Things were different now, not that different to yesterday, but different to all those years ago. This wasn't the kind of morning where you woke up with a new lover, feeling excited, hopeful and wanted. This was the kind when you wanted a shower.

"We're consenting adults and neither of us was intoxicated" she reasoned. "It happens."

"It happens."

She hadn't meant it to sound quite so "shit happens". Her statement was supposed to signify that this didn't have to mean drama, that neither of them would have to move to a different city. "It wasn't bad."

It hadn't been and-then-we-both-came-at-the-same-time-and-cried-tears-of-joy-amazing, either, but it had been intense for sure, and different than she remembered (and she remembered). Neither of them had had the restraint for long foreplay, but there had been zones involved that she hadn't even considered a turn-on, wrists and the back of her knee and an avoidance of certain painful areas, so it had been…unusual in the least, if not exactly soft and fluffy. It was the thrill of the memory of something, the rediscovery of bodies once known but altered over the years, that led to a certain impatience, to needing to get to the point.

"That's an understatement" he said drily.

"It was…clearly what we wanted." She smoothed out the covers between them.

"You did want to, right?" He looked worried there for a moment, as if he had forgotten to make her sign a consent form.

"Um, yeah. I just wish it hadn't happened because you…lost your shield."

"No, no, it wasn't like that, it wasn't…" He chewed on his lip. "I mean it was, and it wasn't. But it wasn't about that, not for me, anyway." He was telling the truth, and also not telling it. She had seen it in his dark face last night, with all traces of sweetness washed away. Now, he looked at her dubiously, as if trying to decipher what she was thinking. "If you-"

"God no, Brian. I didn't have pity sex with you when you got shot, you think I'd do it over a temporary demotion?" She outranked him now. That shouldn't matter, it shouldn't be an issue, but she couldn't get his words out of her head. In some crazy way, it was.

For the first time, a smile slid across his face, hesitant as it was, trying not to find the humour in the situation yet clearly stuck with it. "Damn, and here I thought this wounded officer thing could help me score."

She laughed involuntarily. This whole scenario was so messed up. Her brain was messed up. This could all be so easy if they were different people.

"Hey, if I go take a quick shower, will you disappear on me and never come back?" His question was only half a joke.

She leaned over and brushed back his equally messy hair. "No way. I wouldn't do that."

She arrived at work slightly late in spite of herself, although it was a trade-off between being late and being presentable. Naturally, this was the one morning that Munch had apparently decided to stand next to her desk like a creep, waiting for her report on yesterday's witness interviews with a mood like a regular ray of sunshine, because if he didn't have these reports right this second, the world would fall to pieces. She had never thought of John Munch as a Type A personality. She was reconsidering that. Nick jumped in with a chivalrous attempt at saving her ass, claiming he had asked her to hold off on submitting the report because he wanted to check something. This earned him a suspicious look from her and a weary "thank you, Stabler 2.0" from the Sergeant, who walked off muttering something about insubordinate children.

The two of them were left standing beside their desks, exchanging a knowing, annoyed glance about Munch, a moment together that made her soften towards her partner. "Thanks, Nick, but that wasn't necessary."

"Hey, it's my good deed for the day."

She smiled at him in a way that was supposed to let him know that they were cool, that she had his back in return. Things had been good between them up until the escort case, up until the world had been turned upside down with mistrust and intrigue. They had returned to some sort of routine after that, but it hadn't been the same ever since. It wasn't that they argued, it was that they didn't argue. Their interactions were marked by a polite professionalism, and she found herself hesitating before calling him out on something she disagreed with, waiting just that second longer to share her theories with him. She hated it. By now, their working relationship was like a joint that had stiffened, bandaged in formality and professional courtesy. Obviously, that was something they never acknowledged openly, since they never actually got around to talking about it and now it was too late to make a start.

"Earth to Liv? You okay?"

"Yeah." She sat down, typing her log-in details into the computer, but Nick was still standing beside her desk.

"So I'm not gonna ask you why you're late."

"Good. Don't."

"It's your private business." His words were laden with meaning.

"It has nothing to do with the job. About once every five years, I'm late. No big mystery there." She picked up a pile of papers. Technically, they were supposed to be as paperless an office as possible, but she found it far easier to organize the pieces if she had actual pieces to hold in hand.

"Okay. Good to know."

Then why was she still sensing his towering presence as she tried to immerse herself in her papers? "Did you need something?"

"Liv, what I'm trying to say is: It doesn't matter, okay, your business is your business. I respect that. There's not going to be…gossip or anything."

"Ha. That sure sounds like this place." She couldn't prove it, but she was pretty sure that the men's room was a local hub for information exchange.

He clenched his teeth. "Look, just because of this Haden thing-"

She held up her hand. "Okay, no need to go into that again." If there was one thing she did not want to talk about right now, it was David. Things were complicated enough without throwing her ex-boyfriend-ex-ADA-slash-possibly-ex-corrupt-ADA into it.

"I'd like it if we could move past that and stop being so…guarded around each other."

Guarded. The word was a surprisingly good fit. You weren't supposed to feel exposed around your partner, like he might use something against you any minute. She sighed, deciding to go for honesty. Well, partial honesty. "I liked it better when it wasn't like that, too."

"Okay, so let's stop."

It was sweet, and rational, and very Nick. "It's gonna take time. Trust me, I've done this a few times."

"With Stabler?"

That earned him another glare. She wasn't sure what exactly Nick knew –probably a lot, thanks to the men's room- but he had enough sense not to bring up that name.

"Right, none of my business. But we're good, right?"

She made her lips curl into a smile. "We're good. No deep, dark secrets here, I promise."

[So I got my ass kicked for being late this morning. Thanks for that.] It was a quick, a very quick corridor lunch break, but she couldn't leave it alone. The memories kept flooding back to her at moments when it was really inappropriate, bordering on perverse to be thinking about it, and sometimes, they felt dirty and gross, and other times addictive. She could feel his fingers on her thigh and "shit, you're beautiful" and…stop. This was so not the time, and if Nick caught her grinning at her phone like an idiot, he would so know.

It took Brian a moment to respond, and she wondered if he sometimes typed, then deleted and retyped his messages as she did. [I'm not sorry…]

[Don't get used to it. Gotta be a role model for the rookies.]

[Amaro kicked your ass? No surprises there. Asshole.]

[Amaro saved my ass.]

[Hey, you didn't tell him, did you?]

[Yeah, because that would go so well… We don't exactly make friendship bracelets and exchange info on our sex lives.]

[Good. Don't think I want his gun pulled on me a second time.] At least they were on the same page about one thing.

[You doing okay?]

[Yeah. I still don't have my gun back, so no need to worry.]

This time, it took her a minute to respond. [You need to stop with the non-funny gun text jokes.]

[Sorry. Gotta go study How not to get a courthouse blown up 101.]