AN: Hey guys, thanks so much for your patience and support during this story! I re-read it recently in it's entirety and man there were a lot of plot holes throughout, not to mention general tone inconsistencies (aka is this a rom com or a horror movie?) who would know?! *side eyes* I blame all those post surgery painkillers I was on which skewed and sparked off Olivia's wild panic attacks/drug binges lol, so yeah, it's very up and down and all over the place but you've all been very forgiving with your kind comments, so thank you! I went back and fixed a few things up but it's def not my favourite fic to say the least but in saying all this, holy crap, shout out to Lyricara for leaving me 999 reviews on what I consider to be my shoddiest piece to date! Shooketh, not worthy, but very, very appreciative.
Hope you guys enjoy where I pick this up as I try to get us back on track. X
She doesn't wake up at first light like her body is used to, instead she comes to the blinding awareness that it's closer to midday. The digital clock blinks back at her with judgement as she runs a hand over her face. She still feels groggy and out of sorts from the plethora of drugs she had taken last night so she knows she will be slow to move today.
She turns absently looking over her shoulder to find empty space behind her, a bout of relief fills her chest when she realises she's alone.
She needs a minute.
Her muscles are a dull ache and she thinks she has just enough energy to drag herself out of bed, shower and maybe even brush her teeth if she's lucky.
Anything beyond that, she's not so sure.
She moves upward, her head spinning and when the sheet falls down to her lap she realises she's still bikini clad.
Jesus, that was a dangerous mix, sleeping next to her partner in this.
Poor guy.
She looks around for a shirt to slip on and when all she can find is one of his oversized grey t-shirts she pulls it over her head, messing up her bed hair in the process.
The musk of his scent hits her immediately, the shirt needs a wash but she likes it. A lot. In fact she is getting used to it – his smell, his presence - in her bed, in her house, it was all consuming.
She doesn't want it to go.
She had even recalled waking up last night to feel him up against her body, his hand resting just above the seam of her bikini bottoms at her hip, skin on skin. She had attempted to move, to readjust herself but he had tugged her back against him unwilling to let her go.
Even in his unconscious, he was possessive.
She had wanted him last night and even through the haze of those drugs she was turned on at the thought of sleeping with her partner.
She still is.
That much was evident but the context of their situation coupled with the risks at stake was causing her to wall him out, to take this slower than they probably needed to. But most of all, beneath the surface of this arrangement she couldn't shake the aching thought that he would have to return to the city eventually, even if she couldn't.
This was her new normal.
But she had to remind herself that it wasn't his.
Like Elliot had said - even if Thompson was caught, this still wouldn't be over.
It was only a matter of time before Elliot would go and would she really survive the post intimacy if he just left?
That thought, and only that, was what was truly holding her back.
She made her way into the bathroom clicking the door closed behind her and turning on the faucet. She starts to brush her teeth taking in her tired features, making note of the mess the lake had made to her hair, trying to remember the last time she showered when a knock on the bathroom door behind her caused her to jump in surprise.
She's got a mouthful of foam threatening to spill from her lips so she spits it into the sink so she can respond.
"Yeah." Her words echo in the sink.
Silence.
Nothing.
She hears nothing.
Now she's questioning if she had heard it to begin with.
"El?" She repeats, turning her ear towards the door.
Nothing..
"When you're done," she hears him finally call out through the wood. "Can you come out here please?"
Something was up.
That much was obvious.
She can hear it in his tentative tone and her heartbeat was already starting to ratchet into overdrive at the possibilities.
She runs her toothbrush under the spray, patting her mouth dry with the hand towel as she considers the options. Her first thought was that something she had said or done last night was out of line and he was going to call her on it. The exact details of the night prior were still hazy for her but she does remember the flirting.
And the touching.
The way she had boldly run her hands across his chest, not to mention the way she'd unabashedly slid his hand across her ass.
Jesus.
Drugs.
It was the drugs..
Her second thought was one she didn't even want to entertain and she will not allow herself to think about - Thompson, particularly after just spending an entire day coming back down from those dark debilitating anxiety ridden thoughts.
She just prayed it was the former.
She prayed they were still safe.
She emerges from the bathroom, surprised he wasn't waiting for her outside the door given the urgency in his voice and when she makes her way into the living room she finds him on the couch with his head buried in his phone.
"Everything okay?" She approaches warily, a small bout of concern building in her chest when she takes in his stance.
He looks up at her but he does a double take, his eyes unable to help but fall down her exposed thighs, that's when she realises she's only wearing his t-shirt.
"Agent Greene will be here in a few minutes." He tells her before his eyes return to his phone. "So you better ah.. put something on."
But her heart is already racing - for an agent to visit there is definitely something up. She hadn't seen Greene since the first week she'd moved in and they'd only spoken a handful of times on the phone since.
Was this about the phone call he'd received yesterday?
She folds her arms protectively across her chest, a plethora of theories flooding her mind.
She's been made.
Elliot's being reassigned.
She has to be relocated.
They caught Thompson.
"Do we know why he's coming here?"
"Liv." Elliot looks up once more, his eyes pressing her state of undress. "He'll be here any minute."
She steps a little closer to where he is seated.
"First tell me why he's coming."
He stands up to meet her face to face.
"Someone in town was asking for you." His eyes move slowly between hers as she registers the information. "Yesterday," he lets out and the shoe drops. "They've held him overnight for questioning and Greene wants to see you today.. ask you some questions."
He is close now, close enough that she can see the concern he's desperately trying to mask from her and has done so for a day now.
So that was the phone call he'd received yesterday..
He is close enough that she feels an overwhelming need to create some physical distance between them so she can digest what he has just said her. She takes a step back, the concept hitting her sideways, assumptions starting to brim but she talks herself down from each one, trying not to let the internal panic build. But what she's mostly stuck on was the fact he'd kept this information to himself despite everything that went down yesterday.
She realises in that moment that they were right back to square one.
Civilian versus Detective.
"Okay." She presses her lips together trying to stifle her impending anger. "They say who? A name? A description?" She tries to meet him on his level and switch this back into their old dynamic.
Detective versus Detective.
"No." He says simply, not giving anything away.
She looks at him then as if she's not entirely satisfied with that answer and she wants to scoff.
There must be more - he must know more than that, surely he is holding something back and she knows it's all right there on his bloody phone.
"Olivia," his eyes flit down to his shirt. "Get. Dressed," he practically hisses.
Her eyes flicker with heat.
"Who did he ask for?" She doesn't back down and he is moments from opening his mouth when she continues.
"Laura or Olivia?" She explains. "Which name?"
She knows it's a strange question to ask, but it's a valid one.
He gives her an odd look and the silence builds between them, practically swelling with trepidation.
"Why," he cocks his head to the side. "Someone know you're out here Liv?"
Her expression remains neutral and she watches his jaw twitch, she knows they've just entered a stalemate, neither of them willing to back down so they both just stare unmoving.
The knock rattles them and he curses under his breath, scrubbing a hand down his face before he moves his body in front of her, blocking her from view.
"Get dressed," he rasps down at her. "I'll get the door."
Given the cabin exterior was bordered with glass, she actually listens.
TBC
