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She arrived at the hotel 20 minutes later, and let herself into the room. She dropped her purse, kissed Olivia on the forehead and headed straight into the bathroom, turning on the jets on the showerhead and putting the water on as hot as she could stand it.

After a few minutes, Alex heard the door open, and Olivia flipped on the overhead light.

"Off, please," Alex said. Olivia could tell from her voice, even over the noise of the shower, that she was tired, and had been crying.

"Okay, sorry," she answered, and flipped the switch again, plunging the little room back into darkness. She could feel the heat rolling out of the shower. "Can I get in?"

"Sure, whatever you want," Alex said. That wasn't like her. She was normally eager to have Olivia soapy and wet, anytime she could get her that way, but if she was shaving her legs or deep-conditioning her hair, she'd definitely let Olivia know she should wait.

Olivia slid the curtain back and climbed in, finding Alex facing the steady, battering streams of near-scalding water, letting them hit her forehead while her hands covered her face. She wanted to touch her back, her shoulder, just provide a bit of reassurance, but hesitated.

"You were right," Alex finally said. "Maybe this was the worst idea I've ever had."

"Did it go that badly with Danielle?" Olivia asked.

And suddenly Alex had turned, and brought their mouths together forcefully, before she pulled her head back and looked at Olivia, eyed her almost angrily and said, in a harsh whisper, "Don't. Don't say that name, don't ask, just...don't."

She kissed Olivia again, and her hands were everywhere, touching, grabbing, rubbing, pinching, twisting. She couldn't keep her mouth away from Olivia's, but couldn't keep it on there, either. She was frenetic, all over the place, and Olivia couldn't keep up. Part of her thought of stopping this, not sure what was going on, but she'd felt this way herself, more than a few times. You needed everything, and nothing, and just to be fucked and forget everything for a little while. If Alex needed that, needed to use her to wake up from this nightmare, she could deal with that.

They fucked, fast and hard, in the shower, Olivia coming quickly and loudly, before Alex shut off the water with a hard slap of her hand and pulled Olivia out and toward the bedroom. They didn't towel off, didn't stop long enough to do anything but yank the bedspread off the bed entirely. The room was dark, and cold, and Olivia felt goosebumps come up on her own wet skin, as well as Alex's. The blonde's hot kisses and her frantic tongue, as it traced the veins in Olivia's neck, were a delirious counterpoint to the shiver she felt from the air in the room.

Olivia loved hotel rooms, loved having sex in them—it felt a little sterile, and anonymous, under the best of circumstances. Even with someone you loved, and knew, sex in a hotel room was like sex with a stranger sometimes, and you could pretend to be someone else. All those white sheets and dark curtains, it was like shutting the world out and stripping everything back to bare bones. Tonight, this was the best place they could be, and Olivia gave herself over to whatever Alex wanted.

She'd made love to Alex Cabot a number of times, and in number of ways, but even their first encounter, in a hotel room in New York eight years ago, hadn't been anything like this. She had never met Sarah Clarke, but she had some idea that's who was fucking her now, frantic and rough. Alex was deliberate and intense in her lovemaking, could make Olivia come in one position then another without it ever seeming like she broke her focus, stroke Olivia's folds with her tongue for long minutes, use her fingers inside of Olivia for what felt like hours, teasing and coaxing. But this person on her now was all over the place, skimming the surface, never alighting anywhere for more than a few seconds.

Finally, Olivia flipped Alex to the bed, and hovered over her.

"You can't get enough tonight, can you?"

"No, I can't," Alex admitted, breathless. "So why are we talking?"

"I don't know," Olivia admitted. And she turned her body above Alex's, putting her mouth on Alex's clit, stroking her tongue, quick and rough, through the delicious heat there, while lowering her own wet pussy to Alex's face, and moaning into Alex the moment she felt that tongue snake its way up the slick skin between her legs. Liv normally wasn't a big fan of this position, She didn't like the yin-yang, didn't like being so distracted while she gave, or received, such pleasure, didn't even like the number 69 and the snickers that came with it. But tonight, it was just the thing.

They hungrily consumed each other, and finally came, Olivia just a moment after Alex, before they collapsed onto the bed. After a minute, Olivia turned back around, bringing her head to Alex's, and looked into her blue eyes. She could see something familiar there again, and was relieved, but said nothing. Sleep would do wonders, she thought.

The next morning, they woke up, and Alex was herself again, but seemed a bit embarrassed by her behavior the night before.

"Good morning, honey," Olivia said. "Ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

"I'm sorry, Liv," Alex said.

"Sorry for what?" Olivia asked. "Are you staying here, leaving me to head home alone?"

"No," Alex said quickly. "Hell, no. Just, for last night. I was...I don't know. Not myself, that's for damn sure."

"It's fine, Alex, really," Olivia reassured her with a kiss. "Whoever you were was—different, for sure—but I understand. And it's not like I wasn't along for the ride, you know."

"I just..."

"Stop," Olivia commanded. "Stop, and get up and get dressed and let's get the hell out of here."

They checked out of the hotel, grabbed breakfast at an IHOP to avoid the morning rush hour, and Olivia offered to drive. She felt like she wanted to put as much distance between them and Baltimore and Sarah Clarke as quickly as possible. After a few minutes of driving, she took a route Alex hadn't expected, and headed toward I-83 north, rather than toward the New Jersey Turnpike.

"Where you headed, babe?" Alex asked.

"Home," Olivia replied.

"But home is that way," Alex said, pointing vaguely off to the northeast.

"I'm taking Alex Cabot home," she said, meaningfully. Alex took a moment, Liv could see her looking at a map in her head, when she finally smiled.

"Are we going to East Amherst?" Alex asked.

"Yes," Olivia confirmed. "I saw Sarah Clarke's home, and now I want to see Alex Cabot's home. You with me?"

"I thought you had to be back at work tomorrow."

"No, deceit by omission, I admit. I took the week off, wanted to take you somewhere to get away after you did what you had to do in Baltimore," Olivia explained. " I couldn't decide where—thought about the beach, or the mountains, maybe. Then, I thought, maybe we have one more pilgrimage to make."

Her eyes were on the road, and it took her a minute to realize that Alex was crying.

"Sweetie, if you don't want me to..." Olivia began.

"No, it's...perfect." Alex just sat for a minute, overwhelmed with the thought Olivia had put into this. "It's absolutely perfect."

They arrived in East Amherst late in the afternoon, checked into a bed and breakfast, and took a quick spin around town, ending their drive at Alex's childhood home. Olivia had found out who owned it now, and by chance the guy was a cop. She'd called him a few days earlier, and he was happy to let Alex in to look around. None of the sadness of her journey to Sarah Clarke's house was on display. She was happy, showing Olivia around the house, her room, and then, after thanking the homeowners profusely, taking her on a long walk around the neighborhood.

They had a late dinner, and returned to the B&B. As they lay in bed, holding hands, each of them reliving the past few days, Alex was quiet. Finally, she got up, lit a candle, turned off the bedside lamp, and climbed into bed again, carefully laying her naked body atop Olivia's, feeling tiny charges of electricity all along her frame. She kissed Olivia, first gently, then more urgently.

"Make love to me, Liv," she asked, a pleading note in her voice. "Please."

"Oh, sweetheart," Olivia breathed out the words, floated them to her on a a cloud of air, barely any weight or heft to them. And she did make love to her, and brought her back from wherever she'd been, and called her Alex. Again, and again, and again. "I love you, Alex."

After a few days upstate, a visit to Niagara Falls, and a trip to Canada, Alex looked at Olivia one morning over breakfast.

"Now, I want to go home," she said. "Really home. With you." And they packed the car and drove.