I do not own Law and Order or any of its characters. I am considering bringing this story up to the current episode of Organized Crime and its implications for next week if there is interest.

He calls out, "Liv.."

He's leaning against his SUV waiting for me in the parking lot.

Of course he would be. He would just show up here without calling me back first.

I don't even feign surprise as I walk towards him and he heads in my direction.

I answer, "Elliot, I called you back last night. Did you get my message?"

He replies, "I did… I just didn't want to do this over the phone."

Funny since he's the one that called me nonstop last night.

I go over what he said, "Okay. Tell me. What's going on? Sacha Lenksi was in the window watching?"

"He saw her. He her getting into the car."

"Elliot it doesn't prove that she was the target."

"Liv, he knew it was her. He saw her get into the car. And I don't know why. It makes no sense. Why would anyone want to kill Kathy?"

"Elliot, whatever evidence you have Elliot it's not your case. You have to give it to intel."

"I just feel Moenning is shining me. I don't even know where they are with the case."

I remind him, "You're not supposed to."

"You have connections over there. Just reach out to them."

I can't believe he's asking me this especially after what happened last time

I sigh, "I can't. You have no idea how many people are telling me to stay away from this to stay away from you."

The Chief …. Carisi… Bell … let alone my own logic. I've already risked my rank and badge for him in such a short amount of time… I can't be reckless. Now, it's not just me to think of anymore. Noah. I won't be able to give him a future if I'm jobless.

"Who's telling you that?" I see the anger, the protectiveness, and the possessiveness in his eyes. His defensiveness over whatever "this" is we have right now. I'm taken aback for a moment.

"Who's telling you that?" He asks again.

I remain silent. After all I have the right against self-incrimination.

I change the subject, "Did you hear anything we said last night?"

He says, "I don't want to talk about last night."

Ugh. I thought that's exactly what we were supposed to be doing here.

I plead, trying to reason with him, "Elliot, you have to take care of yourself. I'm begging you to slow this all down. Go home. Eat something. Get some rest. Elliot, you have to do this for yourself. For your kids."

For me, I think to myself. To voice it would be "selfish" on my part. I don't need to complicate things anymore for him either. To bring him "down" further under the dark waves he's fighting. The circles under his eyes prove he has not been sleeping.

My heart aches to see him this way. As if it hadn't been a decade, thousands of miles, and continents between us. I don't know how it is he's drawn me in so far already. The moth to his blue, burning, and bright flame. It makes me wonder if I ever really left his pull at all.

He says, "I hear you."

I sigh with relief, "Good."

Before he walks away completely, he asks, "Are we good?"

I reply sincerely, "I hope so."

Deep down I actually do want things to be "good" and to get better between us. I can only hope for the best. It will take work on both of our parts, but for now it seems we have a truce and are in this together for the long haul.