A/N: Oops, here's another one! This scene happens a few days after the last scene of episode 1x01 of L&O: OC, "What Happens in Puglia".

Thanks a lot for the feedback on the previous sketch. Please let me know your thoughts on this one too!

LOCKED OUT

He stands a good three minutes just outside the closed door, feeling like a perpetrator as he peeks at the light that seeps through the slit underneath: she's home.

It still feels like he has no right, but nothing that keeps him apart from her when they're living in the same city again feels right.

Just when she had started considering allowing him back into her life, he'd blown it.

Again.

He stops short of knocking — it could scare her. It's 8PM; she's probably not expecting any visitors, especially visitors knocking with urgency. Instead, he takes a deep breath and rings the bell.

He can't hear or see it, but it's almost as if he can feel her breath hitching.

The door swings slowly on its hinges to reveal Olivia, shock poorly concealed on her face, casual clothes, her hair up in a messy ponytail. "What are you doing here?"

Elliot swallows, struggling to keep his hands behind his back. "Is this a bad time?"

"Mommy, who is it?" the boy runs toward them and stands behind Olivia, whose protective arm reaches for him. "That's your friend from the park," he recognizes.

Elliot sighs, looking down for a moment. When he'd seen them running off on the snow that day, he'd wanted so badly to be a part of it, but she had made it clear she didn't want to introduce them to each other.

She has her own family now, and it has nothing to do with him.

Olivia nods reluctantly, and she seems to be debating whether to confirm or deny her son's assumption. "Yes, it is…" she finally says, pointing hesitantly at Elliot. "Honey, this is Elliot."

Elliot notices how she doesn't qualify; it's not my friend, Elliot, or anything personal like that. Just this is Elliot. It's only fair. He knows.

"I'm Noah," the boy says, looking timidly thrilled, offering his hand for a handshake after clearing it with his mom with a questioning look.

Elliot gives her his own questioning look before shaking the boy's hand with a smile. Her authorization is a small movement that resembles a resigned shrug. "It's very nice to meet you, Noah."

When their hands disconnect, Olivia turns her whole body in the boy's direction and bows down a little to level with him. "Honey, why don't you go brush your teeth and wait for me in your bedroom? I'll be right there to tuck you in."

Noah shoots Elliot a quick look, as though asking for help. Someday, Elliot muses, he'll be able to tell the boy that he's never been able to change his mother's mind about anything once it's been made up.

"But I don't wanna go to bed yet," the boy whines.

Olivia tilts her head with a hint of a smile while her voice remains firm. "It's time and you know that. Go on."

Elliot watches her as she waits for the boy to completely disappear into the back of the apartment before turning to him again, and for a moment, the joy of watching her being a mother almost makes him forget the circumstances of their current encounter.

But her stern look reminds him. She leans her arm against the door, a clear barrier between him and her home. Her life.

He clears his throat, puts his hands behind his back again. He wants to look as harmless and respectful as possible. "I'm sorry," he starts. "I didn't mean to intrude. I noticed that day that you didn't introduce me to him, I didn't mean to impose."

Olivia's lips turn upwards in a bitter smile. "Yeah, I'm just not sure if it's a good idea for him to get close to you. I wouldn't want him to get attached in case…"

Her stare is pointed as her voice trails off, and Elliot knows exactly what she means.

"In case I leave again," he finishes with a sigh, and he knows he deserves that, but it doesn't cushion the blow. "I wouldn't do that," he states, aiming for the depths of brown in her eyes. "I wouldn't be here if I even considered the possibility of leaving again."

Her eyes will not accept the pleas in his: they're closed doors, locked both ways — they don't transpire any clues either as she squints them. "Why are you here?"

Elliot wonders how she's been able to learn how to hide her emotions from him so well, reminding himself he gave her ten years of practice.

"I felt bad about the other night," he answers truthfully. "You came to talk to me and I…"

"You blew me off," she says, her voice a monotone, and as much as he hates to see her in pain, the numbness in her demeanor pierces through his chest.

"I was busy with something," he explains while chastising himself for being such a selfish son of a bitch who would rather see tears in her eyes than this new ability to devoid herself of any feelings.

"I know," she says, casually crossing her arms. "You think I didn't notice something was up? That look in your eyes, the dark circles under them, your agitation? You said you were fine, but you weren't fine at all. You lied to me."

He knows he did, and he doesn't want to do it again. "I was on a case," he half-reveals.

Olivia smiles with the evident triumph of being able to read him better than he can read her right now. "Not just any case… It had to do with Kathy's murder, didn't it?"

"Liv…" he pleads. That's not what he came here to discuss tonight.

The faintest flash of anger bleeds through an invisible crack in her otherwise fortress of a stare. "You know what? I don't care. I almost followed you that night, too, begged you to let me help you…"

"I didn't want to put you in danger," he protests.

She's whispering to herself as she shakes her head. "After everything… I'm so stupid."

"I can't lose you, too," he raises his voice a little, causing her eyes to dart back to his, wide and glistening against the emotionlessness.

"I wouldn't have cared," she smiles, the glint in her eyes turning into very well-contained moist. "I would've put myself in danger without a second thought. My sitter was here, I'd asked her to stay longer so I could go see you… And then I realized that I was doing it all over again. Dropping everything for you, like I did for twelve years."

Her words sting in his eyes, and they blink repeatedly as they evade her face. "Olivia…" he breathes.

"It was good that you blew me off," she goes on. "I should be thanking you. You know, I read that letter, and for a minute, it almost felt like…" Her pause has his glance drifting back toward her face tentatively. "But the way you walked away from me that night was just the reminder that I needed that at any second you could just leave again."

"I deserve that," he says hoarsely, setting his jaw, his hands turning into fists on his sides. "I know I do. But you can't punish me forever."

That word gets to her: Olivia closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her voice is a little softer after that. "Look, I don't want to punish you. I know how much pain you're already in, and I'm really sorry about that. I just… We haven't been in each other's lives for ten years."

She's speaking very matter-of-factly, but her façade falters a little when she's about to take it a step further — it's the calm before the sucker punch. "Honestly, maybe there's no reason to change that," comes out in a whisper.

Elliot nods slowly while his insides shatter. What can he say to that? Does he even have the right to speak? But as they both drown in silence, her eyes scream. As hurt as she is, it's when his heart breaks that hers follows.

He can't stand to watch that happening, so he prepares to leave. "I just came here to tell you…" he hesitates. "I just wanted you to know I meant every word in that letter. I still do."

"I know," she counters, a bit exasperated, a tear going rogue on its way down her cheek. "Kinda makes it worse," she smiles with sadness, and Elliot almost misses not being able to see her pain.

A tear jumps out of his eye before he can gain control over them. His voice strains as he tries to keep it steady. "I just want you to know that I wouldn't leave you again. I know how much I hurt you the first time."

Olivia watches him, both arms on the door, as though she's barricading.

"And also because I'm a selfish bastard," he continues. "I walked away once, and it almost killed me."

She's no longer fighting her tears now. "But then you were happy," she smiles in the most heartbreaking way, alluding to their conversation at the hospital, right after Kathy's death.

We were happy, he'd thought out loud, and he realizes now that she misunderstood; she'd thought he'd been referring to easy, effortless happiness.

"Yeah, eventually," he smiles, because she doesn't know how wrong she is. "Once we were enough miles and years away from you."

When she initial shock wears off, Olivia shakes her head: she's offended by the implication, by the admission he's making all these years later, when it's no longer relevant, when she's already rebuilt her life, shaped it around a reality where he didn't exist, where he doesn't fit now.

He gets it.

"I'm gonna go," he promises, raising both open hands defensively. "But I just need you to know… I've been thinking a lot about how I could've been in that car."

"Elliot," she warns, gathering enough hurt and anger to pour out with her voice.

"But I wasn't," he insists, determined to get the words out. "I'm still here. And you're here."

Olivia sighs audibly. "What are you saying?"

He pulls in enough air to fill his chest with courage. "I'm saying I want to be in your life," he explains. "I'm saying I need you in mine."

Her smile is full of resentment. "Elliot, don't…"

"But I get it," he nods with an understanding smile. "I have to earn it. I want to. I'm going to," he states with confidence, then turns to leave. "Goodnight."