A/N: For sure thought that this would be a three parter, but why not have some fun?

"How about I cook the steak you bought."

Olivia nods. "And I'll remake your bed."

"Leave it. It's fine. I…" Elliot's eyes skim over her one more time before he leans over to kiss her lips softly. "I don't regret that. I've wanted that for a while. Please don't freak out." He's begging her and Olivia looks up at him with innocent eyes.

"Why would I do that?" Olivia asks without thinking. And just like that, the crazy woman in her head begins yelling on a bullhorn: The man you love, have loved for years and years and years, who has just lost his wife, who is still dealing with devastating grief and betrayal, just went down on you. That is why. This same man has left you. Ten years without a word and now all of a sudden you are falling victim to his charm once again. You stopped living because of him, for him, because of everything he meant—

"I'm just saying, don't make this something it's not."

Her eyes close and she tries to continue breathing normally, tries to shut the screaming in her mind off. "It's a little weird," Olivia admits. "Going from never speaking to whatever this is…" Olivia mumbles, looking down at her bare legs.

"It's not weird. Just different. Growth is uncomfortable," he says softly. When her eyes widen, he laughs and kisses her one last time. "I'll go start cooking." He then leaves her to dress in private, and the second the door closes behind him is when the panic really starts.

"Oh my God," she groans. She said she wouldn't freak out and it was a blatant lie. A portion of her had started spiraling again the moment her orgasm settled. A different type of spiraling, but spiraling no less.

This hadn't been the plan.

How did checking on him end with her becoming completely undone by him?

When her jeans are back on and her belt is buckled she escapes to the bathroom to look at herself. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is disheveled. She looks for a comb or brush and she laughs to herself because he doesn't have either of those things. The bathroom is bare and basic. Just one hand towel hanging from a hook, soap, and a cup with one toothbrush. When she opens the medicine cabinet she finds nothing and maybe that's a good thing. Any brush or comb would have to belong to Kathy, right?

Oh, Kathy.

Guilt is a terrible feeling. Even though it's familiar, it stings even worse now that he's just gone down on her. She's probably the only other woman to ever feel him that way and her eyes roll. At herself. At the incessant feeling that even though she hasn't, she still feels like she's done something wrong. It's why she's spent all this time running from him after he'd told her he loves her. She didn't want to deal with this.

She closes the medicine cabinet and she lowers her eyes, not even wanting to look at herself. The sheets he had cuffed onto the sofa are dry so she busies herself with gathering them and then tossing his white clothes into the dryer. She is unable to even look at him so when she drops the handheld laundry basket onto the table, she makes sure her back is turned toward him.

She should say something. Surely she can't just walk back into the shared space and not utter a word?

"El?"

"Hmm?"

"Do not cook the hell out of my steak." She chances a glance at him and he's calm as ever, smiling, moving about the kitchen like he's an entirely different man from hours ago. This isn't right.

"If you want it bloody, just say that," he says with a shake of his head.

"Medium," she tells him as she folds the sheets. She feels like she'll crawl out of her skin. Or like it'll fall off of her standing skeleton. He'd fallen into domesticity so easily with her and maybe it's because he's used to this. Maybe in Italy, he cooked steaks while Kathy folded his laundry, and maybe, she's just a replacement Kathy.

Fuck. She has to go.

"I don't eat my steak well done anymore. Just so you know."

She forces a chuckle. "That's surprising."

"Medium well," he says over his shoulder as he turns his attention back to the stove. She wonders if it's the first time he's cooked for anyone since Kathy and it drives her insane how his wife keeps infiltrating her thoughts. Will it always be this way? When they finally have sex, will the image of Kathy be perched right there on the bed with him and her?

She needs a distraction.

"Can we listen to some music? Watch TV?"

"Sure." He brushes past her purposefully and she forces a smile at his obvious flirting. He turns the TV on and behind her she hears the jingle to Everybody Loves Raymond.

"Thought you didn't like it."

"I don't." On his way back to the kitchen he stops behind her, places his hand on her hip, and kisses the back of her head. "It makes me think of you."

"Oh." The smile on her face lifts even higher solely for his benefit and now she feels like an asshole.

He is unbelievably happy and she is slowly dying.

—

"How is it?"

"More well than medium, but it's good."

"Next time you'll cook."

"Next time?"

"There will be a next time, no?"

"Uh," Olivia feels her eyes scattering around the table. "Sure."

"You are such a mom, you know that?"

Her eyes lift to his. "What does that mean?"

"You cleaned my entire apartment," he says, motioning to the completely reorganized home around them.

"On my day off, no less. I'm tired now."

"You're not tired because you cleaned my house. You're tired because you're a senior citizen."

Olivia points her steak knife at him with a smirk is fitted on her lips. "I am not a senior citizen. Say it again and I will break your jaw." He laughs and she feels herself calming down, settling into her seat across from him. They're just having dinner like hundreds of times before and this is something she feels familiar with.

"You wouldn't," Elliot says confidently, his shoulders still bouncing with laughter.

"Not if you mind your mouth, I won't," she promises.

"I thought you liked my mouth. At least an hour ago, you did."

"I—" she chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Shut up, Elliot."

They both turn back to their meals and eat in silence. But her left hand is fisted in her lap and she is fighting nausea as she eats. She doesn't want to be here any longer. Not because the experience between them had been bad, no. It was exceptional. He is exceptional. But is she supposed to be his girlfriend now that he knows what she tastes like? No. She knows in her gut that they are not ready for this. The years of space between them have given her the wherewithal to rely on her brain and her logic when it comes to him. Her heart and body will steer her wrong every time.

When Elliot finishes his dinner, he refills his wine glass and does the same for her. He clears his throat and Olivia silently refuses to look at him, and for some reason, he doesn't pick up on her uneasy disposition.

"What happens now, Liv?"

It's the worst thing he could've asked. He could've asked her about her most embarassing moment, or her deepest darkest secret, and she'd have been more inclined to answer. She flinches nervously, her foot accidentally knocking against his and he pushes his chair backward. He reaches down and he grabs her bare foot, placing it between his legs. He begins massaging it and she forces herself to not pull away. Who has given him the right to rub her feet? They're not together, this isn't their routine.

"What happens now?" he repeats.

"I can't tell the future, Elliot," she rushes out. She pushes her plate aside and her fingers thread into her hair. She should do this now. She should tell him that they have made a mistake. "We've got a lot going on-"

Next to him, her phone rings in her purse and she juts her chin out, pointing toward it. He wordlessly passes her bag to her and when her eyes see who's calling her, her face falls.

"Work?"

"No."

"The boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Olivia says definitively. "This is deja vu," she mumbles to herself. She's gone from ignoring Elliot, to ignoring Edgar.

Elliot looks pensive as he strokes at his beard and if she wasn't in the middle of deteriorating, it would be sexy. "Are you going to tell him?"

Her fingers are jittery as she stuffs her phone back into her bag. "Why would I go and do that?"

He chuckles and his hands return to her foot. "You in love with this guy?"

"No," she answers. "He's great but no, he's not my boyfriend, Elliot. I'm not a cheater. I wouldn't ever do that to anyone."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"If he's not your boyfriend..." he shrugs like it wouldn't matter either way. "That's got nothing to do with us."

"Ok."

His hands drift higher, pressing firmly into her calf and she shudders. "El, I have to go."

"Can I take you to dinner one day?"

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"I'm busy." She forces a smile and finally, she sees the recognition on his face. He sees how uncomfortable she is and his hands pause.

"Liv?"

"I'm just busy, Elliot. I've already got my day planned. Lots of work, lots of Noah." And when did she become a bad liar? She doesn't even sound convincing as she lies through her teeth.

"You let me know when and I'll make myself available."

"Okay." She nods. "Don't leave your t-shirts in the dryer, El. Fold them tonight. And I bought plug-ins to make it smell pretty in here." Olivia pulls her foot out of his grasp and she stands to her feet. "I really do have to go," she says.

"Well, thank you."

She is around the table with her things gathered in her arms in a heartbeat. "Don't get up. Thanks for dinner. And for the…" she pauses. Thank you for the cunnilingus? Do people say that? "Bye!"

—

Whatever it is that you're supposed to do after the man you love goes down on you for the first time… whatever the protocol is, Olivia does not abide by it. When she finally leaves his home, she almost runs to her car, dashing away like a madwoman.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She mumbles over and over, push-starting her car and going above the speed limit to get home. "Fuck."

Her phone rings again. It's Edgar. Why is he so interested in speaking with her right in the middle of her meltdown? Fuck! As her phone stops ringing and he goes to voicemail for what could be the third time, she feels more guilt multiply in her body. Edgar doesn't deserve to be ignored, but she is smart enough to know that he is fighting a losing battle for her heart. In fact, he's lost already and Elliot has taken his rightful place and no, this can't be.

Not in the year 2021. She isn't who she was a decade ago. This cannot be happening. Again.

She'll call Edgar back tonight because he's perfect and he hasn't hurt her and their conversations are easy. God couldn't have given her a better distraction. As amazing as he is, it has nothing to do with him. He could be her knight and shining armor, a literal Disney Prince and it still wouldn't matter. She knows this and God, it has to stop.

Fuck.

She won't make the same mistakes she's already made with Elliot. She can't. Not when she has a child. Not when her child looks to her for guidance. She can't go sacrificing herself for Elliot at his whim. Just because he's finally able to act on his urges, it means nothing to her. She cannot be this woman for him. The one who'll readily put off her own happiness for his.

God. "So stupid," Olivia murmurs. She'd been so caught up. Her morals had taken a backseat the second his mouth touched her. She'd melted for him. Literally. And she'd been so willing to take it even further and it's her only saving grace that he turned her down. Because if they had sex? All of the logic in her head would've gone flying out of her ears. If kissing him was magic and his mouth between her legs was unbelievable, the sex had to be ethereal. Just like I love you. Sex would've completely wiped her out of all of her common sense and she might've gone home that very night to pack her and Noah up to move in with him.

She thanks God for small miracles.

—

"Hey, Liv, it's me. Just checking to see if you made it home safe-"

The message has been deleted.

"Olivia, you're doing it again. Answering my texts with one word answers, not taking my calls—"

The message has been deleted.

"Hi. I knew you'd freak out. You don't need to do this, Liv—"

The message has been deleted.

"I know where you work."

The message has been deleted.

—

After several requests for dinner and one threat to show up at the 1-6, Olivia agrees to go out on a date with Elliot. Dinner between friends, she'd clarified for him. She decides to drive herself there and she arrives fifteen minutes late on purpose. A power play, she tells herself.

Elliot doesn't notice or care that she's late. When she is escorted to their table, he stands to greet her with a kiss on the mouth, but she turns her head and he catches her cheek. When he pulls away from her, his eyes are silently questioning her, but she doesn't give him an explanation. "Hi," she says softly, sitting across from him. She is still dressed in her work attire, another clue for him that this isn't a date.

"You've been ignoring me again." He's dressed casually. His hair is combed neatly backward, his eyes look brighter than she's seen them look in some time and that's great, but her focus is on his beard. The lines of it are straight and groomed and she has a flashback of him hovering over her with her arousal dripping from it. She has to bite back the moan and squeeze her legs and focus on not fucking this up with her need for him.

"Not ignoring you. We speak. Just not about what you want to speak about." It'd only been three days, but he's not buying it. She watches silently as he tries to read her, his blue eyes narrowing at her, assessing her.

"I left you four messages before you called me back," he says. "Did I do something wrong?" He sounds genuinely concerned and she's reminded that he does love her. Elliot loves her, but she knows that he will hurt her. Especially now. It is only a matter of time.

"So we're going to start right off the bat? Not going to ease into this?" Elliot shakes his head no. "Oh, ok. Just asking," she says softly, her eyes scanning around the restaurant. "Can I order a drink first? Can we make that happen?"

"Olivia, I just think our relationship—"

"We do not have a relationship," Olivia says softly, firmly, somehow lovingly. "We just… did a thing. You… you did a thing. To me." She's not an awkward person, but she finds herself fumbling as she speaks.

"I don't understand."

"Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss," she repeats from a few nights ago, "even if that kiss is… there," she pauses to widen her eyes. "There meaning vagina," she whispers and Elliot lets out a laugh.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" he says. She is thankful that at the very least the air between them is light and even though he is annoyed with her, he's smiling. "You wanted to have sex. Would you be reacting this way if we had?"

"But we didn't," Olivia provides with a smirk. "Thanks to you. You were thinking enough for the both of us."

"Shocking, isn't it?" he cracks.

"Very."

"This is about Edgar," he states, his eyes widening slightly.

"That has very little to do with him. It has way more to do with you." And our history.

"So you choose him over me?" He sounds like a child. A full-grown, muscular, bearded child.

"Yes," Olivia answers emphatically. She almost wants to cuff her hands around her mouth and yell it. YES, I CHOOSE HIM.

Elliot's eyebrows climb up on his forehead. "I can't believe you're saying that."

"Believe it, Elliot."

"Can I ask why?"

"Are you kidding?" Olivia chuckles. Does he not remember everything they've been through? Even if they erased the history of ten years ago and were only working with the trauma of the last few months, it still wouldn't be a good idea. "To be perfectly honest, I shouldn't have let you touch me. You're… fragile."

"Fragile." Elliot nods. "This is about Kathy?"

"This is about us."

"Explain."

"Elliot," she starts. She looks at the bare table before them. They haven't even ordered drinks. They didn't even have water yet, and they were this engrossed in the conversation already. "You've hurt me before. Edgar hasn't. It is as simple as that. You need time and I won't sacrifice myself for you."

"I'm not asking you to," he argues.

"You're not asking me to, no. But will I do it? Without question." Olivia reaches out between them and she offers her hands to him. His fingers loop through hers and the contact feels good. "Edgar is awesome. He's kind—"

Elliot snatches his hands away and Olivia laughs. "You don't even like him," he grumbles.

"How could you know that?"

"You wouldn't have let me," his eyes drop to her lap and then shoot up to her eyes, "if you were that invested in your relationship with him."

"He's not my boyfriend, El. I've told you that."

"You bringing him to Fin's wedding?"

"Yes, actually. I am."

"No."

"Are you telling me that I cannot bring a date to a wedding you weren't even invited to a few months ago?" Olivia asks, laughter dripping from her voice. "I'll have Fin rescind your invitation tomorrow. Don't play with me."

"Fin would never."

"Try me," Olivia says with a smile. "I promise you his loyalty lies with me. You're still such a cocky son of a bitch to even think otherwise-"

Elliot cuts her off with his own laughter. "You think this is a game, Liv. And it's not."

"I never said this was a game. I'm saying that whatever happened in your apartment doesn't change this. A kiss, wherever it is, doesn't have to mean the beginning of a relationship. Friends accidentally fall into this all the time. It's normal. It's ordinary for things to get misconstrued," Olivia explains.

"This," he gestures between them, "isn't ordinary."

"I never said it was."

He reaches for her hands this time and she obliges quickly. "Tell me, Liv," he starts, his eyes connecting with hers. "Do you love me?"

He's not playing fair. "You know that I do," she answers, dropping her eyes to their hands. His thumbs gently run over her knuckles and she starts to second guess the intimate contact.

"So you'll love me? And date another man? And you're okay with that?"

"You were." Olivia keeps her eyes downcast because even she knows that it's a cheapshot. "Look, the way that I love you is different. It's complex. But it's also not something I will be forced into because you decided after ten years that I'm important again. I don't care how many times you've apologized, El. I don't see my feelings on this changing. At least not now. For now, we can be friends."

"We are friends," he agrees.

She nods. "We are friends."

"Friends answer their phone," he reminds her softly.

"I'll do my best."

For some reason, he is still not convinced. "Is this because we didn't have sex? Because I wanted to, Liv. I just thought that we should take it slow."

"And I agree with that. I know you're angry with Kathy and I won't presume to know all of your feelings about your wife, but I know enough to know that you're hurting. I know our history. History tells me that you need to spiral for a bit and find healing on your own. You're not easiest man to love when you're at your worst. I've tried to love you through things before and in the end, I'm the one in pain. I won't do it again."

"So instead you choose to move forward with someone else?" His eyes are giving her puppy dog and she fights like hell to remain steadfast.

Olivia sighs. He's so beautiful. So complex, so broken. She wants to walk around the table and fit herself in his lap and pull him into her bosom. He has to know deep in his heart that she'd never choose anyone over him, not really. Not when it'll really count. But for right now, in this moment, yes. She's not even choosing Edgar over Elliot. She's choosing herself over Elliot.

She just wants him to give her space, so she decides to fall back onto an old trick. She'll just piss him off and then he won't want to be around her. "The fact that you cannot process this, the idea that I could choose someone over you, shows me that I am making the correct decision here. I have a history of giving you things you don't deserve from me."

It works. His hands drop hers and his entire body shifts. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Did you think I couldn't date that last year of our partnership or do you think after a while I just chose not to?" It isn't exactly a lie, but she knows for sure she'd made her own decisions during their partnership. Never once had he forced her into a decision, he'd just existed and that had been enough for her.

"I never asked you to do that, Liv." He crosses his arms over his chest and she tries to assess if in three days you could actually gain more muscle. He looks good. So, so good. Good enough that she has the errant idea to shift the entire conversation and suggest they go back to his house.

"That's my point. You didn't have to. I waited for you. Far longer than I ever should've."

"If I knew you reciprocated—"

"You knew," she says harshly. "And it's why you left. It's why you told me you love me in front of your entire god damn family, Elliot."

"We're still talking about that?"

"Yes. Because you're unhinged and you have no boundaries. You never have. It won't work for me this time."

"Listen, I'm sorry for tracking your phone."

She scoffs. "This is the first time you've ever apologized sincerely for that."

"You were ignoring me—"

"I have that right," Olivia says simply. "Look, what we've shared has been great—"

"You can shove it, Liv," he says laughing. "I've heard you give the speech before. Never thought I'd be on this end of it."

"How's therapy?"

"You are so good at manipulating a conversation," he says, shaking his head. "It's good."

"When is that last time you went?"

"Today. The therapist didn't prepare me for this. He didn't prepare me for rejection. I want to flip the table." They both laugh, but she knows that there is a layer of truth behind his words.

"I'm not rejecting you. I'm just not… I'm not available at the moment."

"You're available. Just not to me."

"Okay," she whispers, nodding her head. "If that makes you feel better. Then sure." It feels good. The decision she's made. The way she's stuck to her guns, the way she hasn't given in. "Now, where is the damn waitress?"

—

"I'm walking you to your car," Elliot grumbles. He's lost so much tonight that she doesn't even bother telling him how she can defend herself. She allows him to escort her, allows him to press his hand to her back and when they get to the curb, he grabs her bicep, pulling her into him. Her hands instinctively go to his chest, bracing herself.

"Don't kiss me," Olivia says quickly. Her eyes dance from his mouth to his eyes and she can see his movements already. His head is slightly tilting to the side and the adrenaline soars, but her mind. Her logic is driving tonight. Not her hormones, not the love she's always had for him. Just before his lips collide with hers, her fingertips stop him. Her fingers are mashed against his soft lips and she laughs at the shock on his face. "Next time you do that after I've asked you not to, I will hurt you."

His grin is cheeky and playful. It registers that though she's spent the entire dinner telling him that they won't be a thing moving forward, he doesn't believe her. Not one bit. "I can't kiss you?"

"You've never been able to kiss me before, Elliot. Why ruin a good thing?" She steps off of the curb and she's in her car before he has the chance to respond. She laughs again, at the pure and utter disbelief displayed on his face. It hadn't been her intent to start up a game of cat and mouse with him and now all of a sudden, the impending chase feels thrilling.

It's 8 PM when she is walking into her home. Noah is splayed out on the floor and Edgar is sitting on the couch. Neither man looks at her when she enters and she rolls her eyes. Basketball.

Edgar and Noah watch basketball together now and they both want very little to do with her when it's on. "Hi," Olivia says, from behind the couch. Her hands fit themselves onto Edgar's large shoulders and she leans over and delivers a soft kiss to his cheek.

"How'd it go?"

Edgar doesn't know what has happened between her and Elliot. Just that their relationship is complicated and sometimes needy. He isn't the jealous type and the freedom she feels with him may be the reason she has fallen so helplessly into this thing with him. "Elliot is Elliot," she answers. Because what else could she say?

"As long as you're okay." Edgar turns to look at her and he smiles. "First night alone with just me and the kid. I think it went great," he says softly.

"Don't get used to it," Olivia says. He'd promised Noah he'd watch the Knicks game with him before she'd planned dinner with Elliot. She hadn't known. He had asked to just come over and give Lucy the night off. A boys night. Sports, pizza and yelling at the television. They'd been seeing each other for some time and Noah loved hanging out with him, so she uncharacteristically caved. She allowed the perfect guy, who had the approval of everybody in her life, to take one giant leap tonight. She'd trusted him with her son.

"Why can't I?"

"Because then he'll get used to you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Olivia smiles. No. No, it wouldn't be a bad thing at all.

In her back pocket, her phone chirps. It's a text message from Elliot.

MESSAGES

Stabler

you'll let me kiss you again. & when you do, I'll make you eat every word you said to me at dinner tonight. Good night, Olivia.

Well, shit.