Here we go for the first time for the last time. Enjoy! :)

you're the color of the sky
reflected in each store-front window pane
you're the whispering and the sighing
of my tires in the rain
you're the hidden cost and the thing that's lost
in everything I do
yeah and i'll never stop looking for you
in the sunlight and the shadows
and the faces on the avenue
Jackson Browne, "Sky Blue and Black"

It was Thursday, and Olivia had managed to go the whole week without crying. It hadn't been easy, especially since Tara seemed on the verge of tears nearly every time they talked, and Olivia and Juice…didn't talk, really. They just sat together, quietly, usually with her pressed against him and his fingers tangled in her hair. Sometimes they kissed. Sometimes they touched each other, hands and mouths exploring skin like their impending separation had instilled a new sense of wonder and need to know.

When they did speak it was never about the future. It was I love you and are you hungry? and don't forget your umbrella it's raining. Neither of them wanted to waste a single moment together worrying about what it would be like when they were apart. That didn't matter. Only now. Only here.

Gemma had offered to give them both some time off before she had to leave, but neither accepted. Olivia wanted to work up until the last day, to enjoy Teller-Morrow and the guys and the job itself. She had no idea if she'd be able to find a decent garage in West Virginia, a work environment where she felt safe like at TM. It was a man's field, after all, and there were very few places a woman could work on cars and not be the object of ogling at the most innocuous and downright harassment at the more insidious.

Juice had work directly after school, so once the last bell went he kissed her goodbye and took off. They never said goodbye these days, either.

At her locker she loaded her backpack, and as she turned around some guy she barely even recognized wandered by.

"Kill anyone today, Gable? Or are you fuckin' 'em all instead?"

"I'm sorry?" she said.

"You heard me. Whore."

"She might've heard you, but I didn't." Opie appeared seemingly from nowhere, and she wondered how someone so big managed to move so quietly. "You wanna repeat it?"

She held up a hand. "It's okay, Ope." She smiled at the guy and took a step closer. "I haven't killed anyone today, actually, but it's early. As for fucking—well. You did call me a whore, so how much?"

He blinked, nonplussed. "Huh?"

"I prefer to think of myself as a high-class call girl, so don't lowball me."

"Wha…?"

"Get outta here, dipshit," Opie said.

"Fuck you, man," he snarled. "You and that dumb slut."

Opie reached out and shoved the kid against the lockers almost casually. "You're on lacrosse, right?" He didn't wait for him to answer. "You got two choices: either apologize and get lost, or I beat your face in and you get cut for fighting."

"You'd get suspended!"

Opie gave a laconic shrug. "Don't give a fuck."

His panicked gaze darted from Opie to Olivia and back again. "Jesus. I'm sorry. Okay? Let me go, asshole."

"You believe him, Oll? I kinda don't believe him."

"Let him go, Ope. He's not worth it."

Opie scowled at her, but he pushed the guy down the hall and turned away. "I hear you messin' with her again, I won't be so nice about it."

"You even know who that was?" Olivia said as the guy scampered away.

"Nah. You?"

"Nope. How'd you know he was on lacrosse?"

"Wild guess." He took her book bag from her. "Come on; lemme walk you to your car."

She fell in step beside him, automatically lengthening her strides while he shortened his so that they could walk comfortably side by side. She'd parked close to the building, so it didn't take them long to get there.

Opie grunted. "Your dad gave you the Cougar back?"

"He's feeling guilty about the move, plus the truck is getting less and less reliable. I think he's gonna sell it before we go and we'll buy something when we get out there." She unlocked the door and tossed her bag inside while he slumped against the car and crossed his arms.

"Where's Donna been?" she said. "I haven't seen her all week."

He scowled and scuffed his boot against the asphalt. "Her parents flipped about—the TJ thing. They were never super thrilled with us dating anyway, then—"

"When one of your best friends turned out to be a murderer…" She trailed off with a wince. "Shit, man, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he said. "I think I can wear 'em down again. It's just gonna take some time."

"I guess it'll help when I leave."

"You got a date yet?"

"Why? You that eager for it?"

"Oll, come on."

Her mouth quirked at his affronted tone. "We're out June fifth; the big move is the eighth."

"Wow," he said. "He's not fuckin' around."

"The company is moving us, paying for everything and giving us temporary housing and even selling our house here, so…we're basically on their timetable."

"They must really want him."

"He's good at his job," she said. "I think the president of his union called in a few favors, too. Because of the raw deal Dad was getting."

Opie made a low noise of agreement. A silence fell between them, and she shut the door to lean next to him. "Ollie, listen…"

She cast him a look and waited.

"I don't—it's not that I'm glad you're leaving; don't think that. But I—I think maybe it's a good thing."

Her brow furrowed in a frown. "Why?" she said.

He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "Assholes like that guy in there, for one. They're not gonna stop, and I won't always be there."

"I can take care of myself," she said, lifting her chin.

"I know you can." He tugged on a lock of her hair, something he used to do all the time but hadn't since they broke up. "But you shouldn't have to. You should just be able to go to school and do your thing and not be harassed about it. Your dad, you know, he's a good guy. He's not doin' this just to piss you off or keep you and Juice apart or anything."

"I know," she said. Her voice was quiet and, he thought, said. "He's doing what he thinks is best. All the rest of it's just collateral damage."

"You'll be okay, though. You always are."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"I just mean—you're tough. I know you love Juice a lot, and that's hard. And you're gonna miss Tara, and like TM and stuff, but you know how to deal."

"Hhmm," she said. "You know, Juice and Tara and TM aren't the only things I'll miss."

"Yeah?" he said. "Jax too?"

She poked him. "You, you idiot. I'm gonna miss you."

He buried his hands in his pockets and dropped his chin. "How long you think it'll take you to get over that?"

"I don't know," she said. "A week? Maybe two."

He laughed and pulled her close in a one-armed hug. "God love ya, Ollie Gable, because fuck knows nobody else's up to it."

"Please. You're gonna cry yourself to sleep every night after I'm gone."

His expression turned serious before he grinned again. "Maybe not every night."

"Ope." She reached up to touch his face, a bare brush of her fingers. "You'll take care of Juice, won't you? You and Jax? Don't let him patch in. He's not—he shouldn't have that life."

"And Jax and me should?"

"You two were born to it. You can handle it. Juice'll let himself get caught up and before he knows it he'll be in over his head and—" She waved a hand. "Don't sponsor him. Promise me."

"Oll, if he wants to prospect and the guys agree—"

"Opie."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, okay. I promise I won't sponsor him." His shoulders rose and fell. "Won't matter anyway. He's college-bound, and you two'll hook up again and you'll be poppin' out babies in no time."

She made a face. "I don't really think I'm the popping out babies type. I've got to change the face of the art world, remember?"

"That's right," he said. "Hey, you do a show within a hundred miles of Charming I promise I'll come."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"For real promise, or just bullshit promise?"

"For real promise, geez. Who the fuck you think you're talkin' to?"

"You're a good guy, Winston. Don't let Jackson Teller fuck you up."

He made a noncommittal sort of noise. "Jax ain't so bad."

"No, he's not," she said. "But there's a difference between not so bad and…well. You."

His face screwed up in a thoughtful grimace. "You ever worry you got too much faith in me?"

"Nope," she said. "Not in the least." She stretched up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. "I've gotta get home. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Oll," he said. He reached around her to open the door and held it as she got in. She started the engine and waved, then pulled out of the lot. He stood for a while, watching the car until it turned down the block.

There was no way she'd be gone forever. Charming wasn't the kind of place you just left. It stuck with you, and nowhere else felt like home after. In a little over two weeks she'd leave, and maybe she wouldn't look back for a while—but she would eventually.

Everyone always did.

Olivia was sprawled across her bed studying for her history final when the phone rang. She checked the clock and grinned; it had to be Juice.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey, babe. You got time to talk?"

"I'm sorry. Who is this?"

"Very funny," he said.

She fell back against the pillows with a laugh. "How was work?"

"Boring." She heard the crinkle of what sounded like a potato chip bag in the background, then the squeak of bedsprings. At some point he'd talked his mom into letting him get a line put in his room, and apparently he was using that one now.

"I should've stopped by," she said. "We could've gone to the taco truck during your break."

"That woulda been awesome. Maybe Monday?"

"Sure," she said. "It's a date."

A brief silence fell. She wound the cord around her finger. "Juicy?"

"Hhmm?" he said around a mouthful of chips.

"What are you wearing?"

He laughed, choking a little, and took a sip of his drink. "Uh, just my shorts. Ready for bed."

"Mmmm," she said. She closed her eyes to picture it.

"What's on your mind?" he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

"Oh. Nothing much. I just thought, maybe, we could practice."

"Practice? Practice what?"

"Ummm…" She wiggled a little, settling herself more comfortably. "We'll be apart a long time, and we'll have to rely on things like IM and email…and the phone."

"Olivia Jameson Gable, are you propositioning me for phone sex?"

"You sound shocked."

"Nope," he said. "I've had your number for a while."

"My number? What's that mean?"

He barked out a quick laugh. "You're a bad, bad girl, Olivia."

"What?" she said, feigning innocence. "Me? You're the one who called your girlfriend while wearing nothing but your underwear! And while in bed."

"Um, so, in the interest of full disclosure…at some point in the last two minutes I seem to've lost my underwear."

She giggled. "In the interest of full disclosure, I was never wearing any."

He drew in a breath. "What are you wearing then?"

"Just a t-shirt. Actually, just your t-shirt. The one you left over here last week."

The squeak of springs again as he shifted and brushed he heel of his hand over his erection. "You think maybe you could do me a favor?"

"Sure," she said.

His voice was low and just a little rough when he spoke again. "Play with your nipples for me, Livvie? Through the shirt."

"You mean like…pinch them?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Tug on them a little?"

His head fell back and he closed his eyes. "Like that, baby. Are they gettin' all hard?"

"You know they are," she said, a quiet whisper. "Just like when you play with them."

"Wish I were doin' that right now."

"Mmmm, me too." She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "What about you, love? Are you gettin' all hard?"

"Been hard," he said. "Basically since you asked me what I was wearing."

"Now which one of us is bad?"

"Still you." He ran his palm up the shaft without wrapping his fingers around it.

"So whatcha gonna do about it, Ortiz? Spank me?"

He squeezed his cock as a sort of reflex, not even meaning to, and the noise he made was strangled and high. "Livvie, goddamn, you can't just say shit like that."

Her hand drifted down to rest on her thigh. She could feel the wetness between her legs, but she didn't want to do anything about it. Not yet. "You like that idea, baby? You like the thought of me on my hands and knees, my ass in the air, while you—"

"Baby, God, I can't—" He drew in a long, unsteady breath and let it out slow. "I'm gonna make a mess any second if you keep talkin' like that, and I have a feeling you're not quite ready for that."

She stroked a fingertip across her clit and couldn't suppress a gasp.

"What was that?" he said.

"Um. Just. You know."

"Uh huh," he said. He stretched out and gave his cock a long stroke. "Use two fingers, babe. Flick your clit just a little."

"What are—mmmm that's good—what are you doing?"

"Jerkin' off to the sound of my girlfriend makin' herself come."

"Fuck," she whispered.

"Slide those fingers inside you, Livvie. Bury 'em in that slick wet cunt just the way you like."

"Juicy!" she moaned, her voice breathy and soft.

"That's good," he rasped. "Fuck that's so good. Love those sexy little noises you make. Love fingerin' your hot little pussy. You all wet for me, baby?"

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, Juicy, so wet."

"I wish I had this cock in you right now. I'm so fuckin' hard for you. Wanna make you scream, Livvie."

She was whimpering and moaning, and she turned her head to muffle her voice in the pillow. "Juice, oh God, yes, yes, yes!" she said, and he could just make out the words.

"That's it, just like that, God I love makin' you come!" He stroked harder, faster, and he just managed to grab a handful tissue before his balls went tight and he was coming everywhere. "Livvie!" he groaned.

She bucked her hips and pressed her fingers deep, curling them against her G-spot while her palm ground against her clit, and at the sound of his lust-wrecked voice chanting her name the orgasm sizzled through her. Her teeth dug into her lower lip and she rode it out with soft little pants and gasps until finally she fell onto the pillows in a sweating, boneless heap.

"Well," he said, sounding ragged and breathless.

"Did you make a mess, baby?" she said with a drunken giggle.

"Nearly. Almost didn't get the tissues in time."

"Oops."

"Uh huh. You sound real sorry."

She stretched, arching her back and lifting her arms above her head, and at the noise she made he growled. "Bet you're not sorry about that, either."

"Nope," she said. "Not at all. Mmmm, Juicy, that was fun."

"Damn straight," he said. He got up to toss the tissues then crawled back into bed, curled up around his extra pillow. "I love you, Olivia."

"I love you too, Juan Carlos."

It got quiet again, and she felt such an impossible sadness… "Juice—"

"I know," he murmured. "We'll be okay, Liv."

"You promise?"

"Yeah, babe. I promise."

She smiled. "You want your shirt back?"

"Nah," he said. "You keep it. You can wear it in West Virginia and think about me."

"Okay," she said. "That sounds like a plan."

And then suddenly it was moving day.

Exams had flown by, then the end of the year parties (most of which Olivia skipped for obvious reasons), and just like that it was June eighth. It had been a frenzy of packing, with Tara helping out and even Gemma popping in at one point, but most of their stuff was going to be packed by professional movers (hired by the company in West Virginia) and basically all they needed was whatever they were hauling with them to have right away.

Olivia and Juice had had a long goodbye the night before, and he'd said he wasn't going to come by this morning. She'd already had too many goodbyes: they'd all gotten together the last day of school, and she hadn't seen Jax since then. Opie, once, when she stopped by TM to bid farewell to everyone there, and Tara of course as much as they possibly could.

But now it was all said and done, the U-Haul packed, and it was time to go. She couldn't help but cast long glances down the street, hoping maybe he'd show up at the last minute…but no. They'd made a deal.

"Pumpkin?" her dad said. "You ready?"

She brushed her hand over her face and summoned a smile. "Sure, Daddy." Her mouth twisted a little. "Are you really sure the Cougar's gonna be okay on that trailer?"

"Ollie, gimme a break. This isn't my first cross-country road trip."

"Oh that's right," she said, teasing him a little. "You're an old hand at this."

"Yep. Trust your dad."

"I trust you. It's everybody else on the road I worry about."

He rolled his eyes and squeezed her shoulder. "Get in the truck, Ollie. It's gonna be a long day if you worry about every driver on the road."

"Can we stop and get doughnuts?"

"I already said we could."

She grinned and reached for the door handle, but a sound stopped her.

James frowned and peered down the street. "I thought you said Juice wasn't coming."

"He wasn't," she said, her voice a bare gasp.

The bike appeared around the corner, and she was already running toward it. He stopped halfway down the block and jumped off, barely getting the kickstand down before the whole thing tipped. She threw herself at him and he caught her with an oomph.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay away I had to see you I'm sorry."

"No, no, no, I'm glad you're here. I'm so glad you're here." Her arms were around his neck and her legs around his waist and they were kissing like it was the only thing keeping them alive.

James turned his back and pretended to mess with something on the truck, but Olivia had forgotten he was there and Juice hadn't noticed him at all. They were both crying, blinded by their tears, and Juice kissed hers from her cheeks and whispered her name over and over.

"I love you," she said. "I love you so much, Juicy."

"I love you too, Liv. I'm never gonna let you go, baby. I promise. No matter what."

"I know," she said. "I know, Juan Carlos. You're mine and I'm yours and that's never gonna change."

His hold loosened reluctantly, and she slid down to land on her feet. "You've gotta go," he said.

"Yeah."

He cupped her cheek in his hand and studied her like he was trying to memorize every line and freckle. As if he didn't already know them all. "I know you won't be able to call from your hotel or wherever, so call me as soon as you get there. Okay? I just need to know you're all right."

"I will." She couldn't take her eyes off him, couldn't bear to look away, and the thought of being so far away from him was like a physical ache.

"Olivia," her dad said, softly. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. We've got to hit the road."

"I know, Daddy," she said. "I'm coming."

"I love you," Juice murmured one last time. He kissed her, soft and sweet, and she smiled.

"I love you too. I'll talk to you in a few days."

Words were suddenly beyond him, so he just nodded and stepped back. She turned away slowly, like she was walking through molasses, and as she climbed up into the truck her eyes were trained on his figure standing there in the middle of the street.

It took all of Juice's self control not to climb on his bike and take off after them. They could still run away, could still just take off, his mom would be fine she seemed to be doing really well on the chemo…

Except of course he couldn't. Olivia had been right about that. He stared after the U-Haul and scraped both hands back through his hair. He talked a good game—they both did—but he had no idea if he'd ever see her again.

What a joke. The love of his life walked out of it when he was sixteen years old.

Back in the truck, James reached along the bench seat to take Olivia's hand in his. "You're gonna be okay, pumpkin. I promise."

She sniffled and cast him a brief smile. "Of course I will, Daddy." They drove past Juice, carefully steering around his bike, and she watched him until they turned the corner and he was gone. She fell back against the seat with a long, steady breath.

"I always am," she said, and there was a hardness and finality in her tone that echoed in the truck's small cabin.

Fin. 1/25/15

Welp. Sorry this one took a while to get out, but look! We made it! There will be a sequel, I promise, but like I keep saying it might be ao3 exclusive. You can follow my tumblr at stupidscalptattoos for more info and updates as they happen!

Thanks for reading, loves, and for all your kind words. :)