Olivia sat at the table in the small Chinese restaurant, surrounded by a rapidly-thinning lunch crowd. The silence at her own table became more noticeable as the ones around it emptied. The reason for the lack of conversation sat across from her. Andy, staring sullenly into his plate, was making it incredibly hard for her to enjoy her lunch. She lifted another forkful of Lo Mein to her mouth; he continued stabbing at his chicken.
She made another attempt to draw him out. "You know it's already dead right?"
He grunted in response. It didn't surprise her; he'd said more to the waitress than he had to her since sitting down. She chewed thoughtfully, wondering where his fit of intense brooding had come from. He'd seemed fine all day, even after some awkward moments on their drive to Brooklyn and back and their brief clash on the sidewalk. She'd thought they could at least have a nice meal together away from everyone else at the precinct, some time to sort things out that wouldn't involve anything too emotional, but would still allow them to discuss...Her thoughts trailed off. The kind of talk she wanted to have at this point probably didn't exist.
"I'm sorry?" she ventured instead, not sure why she even needed to apologize to him but hoping it would segue into an actual conversation. "Did I say something to piss you off?"
He grunted again.
She raised her eyebrow, starting to get frustrated, knowing he wasn't even listening. "So I'm thinking about buying a camel and becoming a nomad."
She didn't even get a grunt this time. Understanding the difference between the time for talk and the time for action, she uncrossed her legs and kicked him as hard as she could under the table.
"Jesus!" He dropped his fork and looked at her, eyes wide. "What the hell was that for?"
"You weren't paying attention," she answered, concentrating on keeping her expression impassive. The few people who had looked up from their meals when Andy had shouted were losing interest. She kept her voice quiet and even. "I've been having a one-sided conversation since we sat down."
"We're on our lunch break. I don't wanna hear about the case right now."
"I didn't say anything about it."
"Oh." His face assumed a blank look. "So what were you saying then?"
"Are you okay?"
He answered too quickly. "Fine. Just trying to eat my lunch."
"You're mad at me."
"I am not."
She was momentarily tempted to yell, 'Are too!' and see if they could have a three-year olds' argument to fill the silence for a few minutes. Instead, she maintained her calm tone, saying, "You're mad at me because we're not moving faster."
He faltered for a moment before pointing to her plate. "You've eaten just as much as I have, and it's not like we're on a schedule." He picked up his fork and resumed eating.
"Whatever, Andy." She stood, dropping her napkin next to her plate as she turned toward the bathroom. In the back of her mind, she realized that it would be the third time in as many days she was using the ladies' room as a refuge. The fact that this particular bathroom was dim, darkly decorated and located at the end of a narrow hallway made it feel even more like a place into which she could disappear for a few minutes.
The room was empty and silent, and Olivia was thankful for it. She needed a few minutes alone before going back to the table. The previous night, she'd thought that kissing him would relieve some of the tension by giving him the certainty that she was willing to try again. It had worked for her. She was now fairly sure she was making the right decision and felt like a weight had been lifted. Between them, however, the tension was worse than ever. Maybe that meant that getting back together was really the wrong decision. The disordered mix of emotion, instinct and reason was rapidly reducing her trust in her ability to make any decision.
After washing her hands, she took a moment to run her fingers through her hair, buying more time to hide. A similarly occupied redhead standing next to her abruptly asked, "So what'd he do?"
"Excuse me?" Olivia felt as disconcerted by the question as by the woman's unnoticed entrance.
"Your boyfriend. I saw you kick him under the table. It made me laugh a little."
Olivia was taken aback by the woman's presumption. "He's not my boyfriend."
"Oh." She nodded in an understanding way. "Breakup time. Well, you might wanna practice your 'it's not you, it's me' speech, because he's waiting for you in the hallway." The redhead ducked into a stall before Olivia could reply.
Andy was, in fact, leaning against the wall in the narrow hallway. As Olivia tried to squeeze past him, he put his arm up, blocking her. "Don't do that again."
She turned and stared at him incredulously. He sounded annoyed, and something akin to anger flashed in his eyes as she looked at him. Refusing to believe what she'd just heard, she tried to make light of it. "You're taking away my bathroom privileges?"
"I'm serious. Even though we're technically working as partners, I'm still responsible for your safety while we're on duty, and I can't make sure you're safe if you go stalking off."
She sighed, trying to laugh off his intensity. "Aren't you being a little over-dramatic?"
"There's a service entrance in this hallway. Someone could have gotten to you before I could do anything. I'm not gonna let anything…personal…stop me from doing my job."
"Well, sorry to make your job so difficult," she said bitterly, shoving his arm out of her way and walking back to the table. No longer hungry, she slipped her arms into her coat. She wasn't sure if her sudden anger had been roused by Andy's insistent over-protectiveness or his implication that she was letting the problems with their relationship – or more accurately, lack of relationship – have an effect on her professionalism.
She refused to look at him as he dropped the money for the bill on the table and followed her out of the restaurant. Her feet mechanically led her toward his car, parked on a nearly empty side street. She heard his voice beside her as they walked. "In case you haven't noticed, you've been out of my sight for a grand total of five minutes since this case started. When we weren't in the precinct or One PP, I mean. I may take risks, but I'm good at my job and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anything happen to you on my watch."
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said through clenched teeth. Somehow, the perception that she was a damsel in distress hurt as much coming from Andy as it did coming from Elliot. Not that she was planning to tell anyone, but she'd been half-expecting Paige to come after her since she'd heard about his prison break. She was even looking forward to it, with nervousness tempered by the grim determination to end the case.
Olivia stopped as she felt Andy pull her arm back. "You don't always have to do it all on your own." She felt her anger start to dissipate, replaced by a strange fluttery sensation, as he spoke, holding her eyes with his. "Or you shouldn't always have to."
She was prevented from answering by the necessity of answering her phone. "Benson."
"Ah, Detective, it's Petersen at the print lab."
She stiffened slightly, remembering the memo that had come with their last print report. "Right. You've got something for us?"
"No. Tony Manfreidi's prints didn't match anything connected to your case, not that you could have expected them to, considering we only have identified prints to work with in this case."
"Well…thanks anyway."
"If it makes you feel better, his prints do match a set connected to a string of car thefts in Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx. I called the lead detectives already. Good luck with your case." Petersen hung up before Olivia could say anything.
She turned back to Andy. "We don't have to go to the print lab. They've got nothing for us. But Manfreidi got himself linked to some felonies."
"I just knew he was a winner. So if they could just tell us what they found over the phone, why'd we hang around here?"
"We didn't know they weren't going to find something. And we're still waiting on the DNA. We usually have to go to the lab before they give us their results."
"Why? Your ME get upset when she can't do her knowledgeable lab-coat routine?"
"No, they just like to show us stuff, impress us with their superior technology." She looked carefully at him, wondering why he wasn't at least smiling at her weak joke. "You're tuning me out again."
"I'm not. Should we just wait in the car?" He moved to open the door for her. She blocked him with her body. "Liv, this isn't gonna get us anywhere."
She was surprised by the amount frustration she was harboring. It seemed to come from nowhere, bursting out of her. "So…what? You're going to keep pretending nothing's going on until I jump into your arms and tell you I love you?"
His eyebrows shot up as if he were considering the possibility. "I wouldn't complain if you did."
She ignored his comment, unable to stop saying things she hadn't even been aware she was thinking. "Every time I give you something you want you act like it's enough. Then you turn around and want more. I thought I could set limits on this, but it's not working and now we're both getting confused and frustrated and I don't know how to fix it."
"Why does something have to be fixed?" he asked.
"I don't know. But something does." She wished she'd taken the time to think through what she wanted to say before she'd gotten into it. Not having a clear argument made her feel like a blithering idiot.
Andy seemed just as anxious as she felt. "I didn't ask you to kiss me."
"Didn't you?" She hoped her voice sounded more challenging than coy.
"No. I asked you for a straight answer."
"What if there isn't one?"
He didn't answer, but stepped closer to her, pinning her against the side of his car. The next thing Olivia knew was that they were kissing and it felt incredible. She wasn't sure how much time passed, but she was sure of the straight answer he just given her.
He pulled back first but stayed close. She could feel his breath on her cheek as his face hovered near hers. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for something to happen. His hands dropped from he hips as he eventually stepped back. Her emotions moved from disappointed to frustrated to angry with herself. As she opened her eyes, she found that she had no idea what to do next.
Her body decided for her. Almost before she knew what she was doing, Olivia felt her hand come up. The harsh, flat sound of the slap echoed against the tall buildings. They stood, frozen, his face turned to the side, her palm parallel to the ground. "Oh, God, Andy. I'm so sorry."
He exhaled slowly as he turned his face back to her. The skin of his left cheek held the slightest hint of red.
"I didn't mean to…" She felt lost, confused and utterly out of control. Straight answer? How could there be a straight answer when she didn't even really understand the question? The only thing she could really be sure of was a new appreciation of the phrase 'emotional roller-coaster.'
"No, no. I should've expected it." His casual tone hid something angry, wounded. "Everything's always on your terms. I don't see why this is any different."
"What?" She was almost begging, wanting him to explain what was happening.
"When we broke up? You decided that. When we broke up again? You. Lack of anything three months ago? You. Talking? You. Kissing? You. You always decide everything for us and I just go along with it because I love you and I do what you tell me. I've given you what you want and you've walked all over me."
"Andy…" She couldn't come up with anything to say. She wanted to be angry over his accusations, but even more, she wanted to run. So she did. "Maybe we should just forget about this. Us."
"Fine. Whatever." She didn't notice her cell phone ringing until Andy plucked it from her belt a moment later and answered it. "Eckerson…bathroom…Nothing useful…We're waiting on the DNA…Probably an hour or so…Okay, Captain." He snapped the phone shut and clipped it back in place.
They stood staring at each other in the alley for an interminable interval. The cold wind served as a sudden reminder that they'd been standing outside in the New York winter for the length of two phone calls, a kiss and an assault on a federal officer. He broke the eye contact as he moved toward the driver's side door. She was relieved that the part of her mind that told her things were probably for the best was strong enough to overcome the part that was screaming for her to jump into his arms and never let go. It had been winning out for almost ten years.
