When she'd reached the newspaper clipping mixed up in the pile of memories, she'd put a halt to her fruitful work and resumed her position on the couch, content to stare at the picture, the same way she had in the days following Bates' arrest. She'd looked at Elliot's face in the picture and realized it was the same expression he'd worn in the elevator two weeks ago as he'd tried to talk her into a ride home. Protective. Defensive. Possessive.

The same look he was using now as he remembered the photograph himself.

Stop looking at it, Olivia pleaded with Elliot within herself. Please stop thinking about it. I can think about it, but if I know that you do, too, I'll crumble inside. I won't be able to take it.

When he had seemingly read her mind and mercifully looked away from the picture, he then did something worse.

He looked at her

Or more importantly, he looked at her mouth as he licked his dry lips.

In a voice low and dangerous, he practically breathed the words, "I never knew you kept this."

Parting her lips to speak, she felt void of words. Taking a breath as though she'd found them, she looked anywhere but into his cobalt eyes—the eyes that knew her so well. The same eyes that pierced her soul and dared her to lie to him.

"I—it," swallowing in an attempt to regain some control of her voice, she narrowly shook her head. Finally settling for, "It was a long time ago. I'd forgotten I even had that until I started rifling through the other photographs." She knew it wasn't just a picture of them that was thickening the air in the room. It was also the time in their lives that the picture represented. The case with Daryl Bates had been the last case before they'd taken on Gitano. The Bates case had just been the prelude to the orchestra of emotions they'd been faced to self-admit because of Gitano's evil stand-off in the warehouse.

Darting her line of sight away from him, she spun towards the fridge. Opening the door, she made a play at being hostess.

"Thirsty? I don't know about you, but I could use a drink."

Elliot watched her stiffly bend towards the cold glass shelves, searching for a distraction. It mystified him how a woman still in so much pain and obviously rigid from bruising, could somehow maintain movement as graceful and fluid as she did. Even when she was not at her physical best, her body still moved swanlike and poised. Despite his better judgment, he also noticed the tight heart-shaped temptation her body created around her butt and thighs as she leaned down in her short NYPD shorts.

Clearing his throat, and his head, before she caught him staring, he answered her offer, "Um, I'm good, thanks. I, uh, I should actually get going."

Straightening his posture with resolve, he waited for her to look at him again before he said his goodbyes. Seeing her attempt to push her physical limits to reach deep into the fridge for what seemed to be one her last bottles of beer, she suddenly retracted with a gasp, her arm instinctively wrapping itself around her abdomen. The quick reaction to her pain caught her off-guard as she hit her head on the fridge, which caused her to neck to hunch down and her footwork began to lose balance. Elliot was there in an instant, catching her with his hands under her armpits.

"Whoa, there—I've gotcha, I've gotcha." Sensing that Olivia's healing upper body was still not ready to stand up fully, he helped her into a sitting position on the kitchen floor. Her face was flushed and she seemed short of breath. Keeping one arm around her shoulders, he used his free hand to rub the spot on the back of her head where it had made contact with the refrigerator.

"Does that feel better?" he asked, concerned as he felt her shudder. Tipping her face upward so he could see what she needed, he was surprised to find her laughing.

"Oh," she groaned as her laughter threatened to continue. "Laughing only makes it worse—oh…I've got to stop." Resting her head on the wall behind her, she closed her eyes and smiled.

"I'm such an idiot. This is so embarrassing."

"You're not an idiot, so don't be embarrassed. The only thing you're guilty of is trying to do too much too soon," he smiled as he chastised her, squeezing her shoulders. "At least you can laugh about it."

"Humph…" she scoffed at him. "If I don't laugh I'm afraid I'll just cry. It doesn't feel like it should be too soon. It's been weeks." He was amused at her sudden pouting. "I've been very tolerant, haven't I? I just want my life to go back to how it was."

Elliot smiled at her impatience. "Don't worry—things will be back to the way they were soon enough." Brushing a hair from her long eyelashes, the laughter in the air suddenly disappeared as he saw the serious expression return to her face.

"Will they? And just what exactly was 'the way things were'? I'm still trying to figure that out." Leave it to Olivia pull the trigger first. She always was faster at drawing her weapon. Maybe it was due to all the practice she'd had being on the defensive. An ugly necessity thrown at her from the day she was born.

"I'm tired of trying to figure it out, El. Tired of this weighing us down. Everything is just so…so fuzzy. I need black and white. I need clarity. Definition. It's time we either move forward without feeling guilty or make a clean break and never look back."

Looking into her mournful eyes, having his arm around her shoulders, his hand caressed her face. He hadn't been this close to her since he'd visited her at the hospital, confessing his demons to her as she slept.

"What are you saying, Olivia? That you want a new partner?"

"I didn't say that. Absolutely not, I don't want to be without you—I tried flying solo once and it didn't work out. I know that regardless of our relationship outside of work, I'm a better cop with you by my side. I just mean that I need to know what kind of partnership we're going to have. I can't walk this tightrope any longer." She sighed as she crossed her outstretched legs on the slate tile floor. It felt cool underneath her bare legs. She fiddled with the drawstring on her shorts waistband. She didn't trust herself to look at him, afraid of her unexpected courage. The last thing she'd anticipated doing tonight was initiating the one conversation they'd both worked so hard at avoiding for three years. "Don't you sometimes wish…well, that we knew where we stood?"

Elliot listened to her as best he could, but his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears it was a strain to process her words. He watched her twist her shorts drawstring round and round her finger. The white rope twisting and covering her skin until the only thing you could see was her fingernail and remaining hand. He felt like that rope might as well be around his lungs. He'd always wondered what he'd say when this discussion was finally here and now that he was face-to-face with it, any previous ideas he may have had, had flown the coop.

He gazed at her long, tan legs, stretched out further than it ought to be possible. He watched the toes on her right foot flex and point, subconsciously, he was sure. Her toes were painted some shade of red. Kathleen would call it "burgundy" or "wine", but to him the only way he could describe it was "lustful". Almost the same color he'd seen her put on her lips when she was touching up her makeup in the locker room. Powerless to remove his eyes from her legs, he was trying to remember if she'd had that same lipstick on when he'd come over tonight.

Realizing she was still waiting for an answer, he decided he needed an answer of his own. Tipping her chin so that he could steal a glance at her lips, he could see that although they were bare from the claret lipstick, they were still full and plump, even inviting. Her questioning eyes stole their own glance at his as she slowly wet her own with the tip of her tongue. His hand was in her hair then, holding her head in place.

Focused on his mouth and in no way noticing their faces getting closer, Olivia was surprised when she felt his soft lips brush against hers. She sucked in whatever air she could before pulling back a small space. At first she felt his hand apply gentle pressure in her hair, resisting her withdrawal.

But then Elliot saw it—written all over her face. No, she silently conversed. I will not be the other woman.

Releasing her with both hands, he began to get up. She stopped him by grasping both hands within her own.

"Wait, Elliot. We need to talk about this."

Standing anyway, he commented, "There's nothing to say. I think we both know that."

"Well, then let me say this." Standing by his side and grabbing his hands again, she was resolute. "I want to make it very clear that what I'm doing right now, I'm doing because I lo—" She squeeze his hands tighter, frustrated at her inability to say the words she so desperately wanted to say. But she couldn't. Not to a married man. Not to him. At least not until he'd said them first.

Continuing, she brought his hands to her heart and pressed them against her chest underneath her hands. Elliot could feel her warmth through the thin t-shirt. Seeking solace away from his eyes, she focused on the buttons of his shirt.

"I'm stopping this before it goes any further because I know that you love Kathy. Because I know you're an honorable man and my worst nightmare would to be someone's regret. Your regret." Dropping his hands, she again picked up the white drawstring. "It would destroy your family, Elliot. It would make you miserable and unhappy. I can't be the cause of your unhappiness and we would never survive if we founded our first moments together from disloyalty to your family."

Humbled by her honesty, knowing what it took from her to say those words, he only loved her all the more for her concern towards his family, towards Kathy, towards his honor.

Willing himself to respond in as honest a way with which she had honored him, he lifted her hand to his mouth as he placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"Liv, I…there's so much I want to say to you right now. Things that have been building for years, I think. But you're right. I could never disgrace my family. But most importantly, I could never dishonor you by offering less than you deserve. I'll never be good enough for you this way." She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with the raise of his hand. "Please don't. Let me go on or I'll never make it through this. I think if I reveal too much of how I feel, it will only make things worse. But please allow me this—it's important to me that you know something."

Looking up from the drawstring, he could see her eyes were full of unshed tears. "What?" She asked as she looked for a Kleenex. He could tell she was nervous about what he was going to say and was trying to run away, at least as far away as she could within her kitchen. Elliot grabbed the box from the counter and pulled a tissue through the plastic.

Wiping her tear as it trailed down her cheek, his voice became soft, almost reverent. "I talked to Father Bennion a lot a few weeks ago. He helped me realize something." Tenderly holding her wrists as she stood apprehensively in front of him, he took a large breath. "I love this baby. This little girl, this miracle. Babies are a gift from God and it's humbling to know that God is entrusting another one of His children into my care. But you need to know that if it weren't for this baby, I wouldn't—"

"NO." The firmness in her voice caught Elliot's attention. And if that wouldn't have, the determined motion in which she yanked her arms out of his grasp definitely would have. "No, Elliot. Don't say that. I can't hear you say that!"

Like a deer in the headlights, she began backing away from him, the tears coming faster now. She cursed him silently for breaking her like this.

"Liv," he was confused. He reached for her again, even stepped towards her, but she pushed her arms out in front of her, shielding him away as she increased the distance between them.

She could have moved on—accepted the detachment she'd needed to put between them as long as she could believe they never could have been. But to know there was a time he would have considered being hers; A time when he would have wanted to move on with her, and yet an unforeseeable cruel twist of fate had changed his mind, well, that was unbearable. That was what was going to break her.

It was killing him to see her like this—scared, fragile, and crying. He hadn't expected her to react this way. He knew, as well as she did, that she was right in stopping their kiss. That as much as they loved each other, they were not the kind of people that could be unfaithful to their morals. Unfaithful to themselves. He knew she knew that. But he'd wanted to reassure her that if it weren't for his obligations as a being someone's father again, things would be different.

"Please, Liv. Calm down. This isn't good for you."

"Get out, Elliot." Her voice was escalating now, higher in pitch and louder in tone. "I want you to leave. I need you to leave." She was begging now, and she knew it. She didn't care about her pride any longer. She didn't care that she sounded almost panicked. As if she had to be in the same room with him any longer she would suffocate or break into a million tiny pieces. Shattered and ruined.

"Look, I won't come any closer. Let's just sit down and talk about this."

"Quit talking to me like I'm one of your damn victims!"

"Olivia, I don't understand. Please don't make me leave you like this. Let me take care of you."

"You don't have a right to take care of me. Why can't you understand that? You don't have any obligation toward me like you do your family."

"I don't have a right?" Now he was getting upset. "You mean nine years together doesn't give me the right to look out for you?"

"That's exactly what I mean!" Fighting for air as she tried to relieve her aching ribs, she suddenly seemed wore down. Unable to dance around her apartment any longer in this argument. How could she make him comprehend?

Slumping on the couch, she sighed loudly and ran her fingers through her hair with dissatisfaction. In a voice much lower and resolved, she explained, "You see, Elliot, what you don't get is that although we've been together for nine years, it's been as a partnership. Coworkers."

"A coworker? That's all I am to you is a coworker?I see. Well, thanks for clearing that up for me." Grabbing his coat as he stepped towards the door, he stopped as she spoke.

"Of course you mean more to me than that. That's the problem. El, I'm at a point in my life, in our partnership, where I've either got to have you for my own or accept you as simply my partner and coworker. This tension between us has got to go away."

Knowing she was drawing a dangerous line that might push him away from her for good, she drew in a ragged breath. "It's killing me, just as I know it's killing you. And since we both know your family comes first—as well it should—then I've got to gain acceptance and move on. I deserve to move on and so do you."

He'd had terrible dreams about this day coming, but never truly thought that it would. That an ultimatum would be placed before them and he'd have to sacrifice both of their happiness for the sake of doing what was right.

Finally understanding what she was trying to say, and realizing why he should never had told her of his confessions to Father Bennion, Elliot simply nodded and said with his head looking downward, "Well, then, I guess we know where we stand now."

Opening the door, he didn't look back as he whispered through his exit, "I'll see ya around, Liv."