Notes:

That whole two-part thing was obviously just a joke of my imagination. It has now moved into a three part thanks to season premieres and twitter spiraling. Let's see how this rolls… All errors are mine. If you want, find me on twitter CathQuintin. I lurk more than anything. Mature rating for smut.

Dick Wolf's toys, my playground.

A special thanks to all for keeping me motivated, and to all those who take the time to comment, encourage and read.

How he got her safely into the bedroom and laid her gently down on the bed was beyond Elliot's comprehension. All he knew in that moment, all he could focus on, was the precious gift he had been given. Her eyes spoke volumes, even if she wouldn't reciprocate the words he wanted to hear. It was trust after all, the ultimate in trust, for her to allow him to have her like this, to accept him like this. He wanted to move, flip the lights, watch all the nuances, but part of him was more afraid that if they had time to think, then all the time between them would come rushing back in, filling them with doubts. He stood, fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, keeping eye contact, because even though there were small doubts starting to creep into his brain, he was not strong enough to walk away from her like this.

Olivia held his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt. In all the time she had known him, she had rarely allowed herself to imagine the two of them making love. Dreamed about it, yes, but never awake and aware had she allowed it. In the beginning she had tried to picture him as a mentor, someone to learn from and joke with. Then they had become friends so quickly, that he had turned into a confidant. Later, she had placed him in the role of big brother, someone to watch out for her. Finally, she had agreed upon friend, partner, a combination of all the others. Everything had to be in these neat little boxes, because he was beyond her reach, and her own personal moral code would not allow her to poach on a married man, a father struggling to do right by his wife and kids. The dreams had started when she realized she loved him. Again, she wouldn't allow them to see the light of day, but at night, when it was just her and her pillow, at night she let them fly, buried herself in them and prayed when she woke hot and sweaty and horny as hell, that her eyes would close and pick up right back where she left off. Because in the dreams, there was no right or wrong, no wife and family, just Elliot and Olivia and there it was okay to allow her psyche, her very wants and needs to exist freely. And if, during the night she woke and could not recapture sleep, if she closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine his hands were moving on her instead of her own, then at least she could pretend it was a reverie of repose. Then he left, and the dreamscape was the only place she could find him. There she held him fiercely, but he would dissipate with the touch of the sun, and she had to wander in a reality without his presence. After Lewis, she had tried to let Elliot go. His presence in that place was no longer erotic or comforting, just a memory of what she had never had, a warped chimera of what had once been her heart. In time, she had gotten used to his absence, the most people get used to the loss of any loved one. One day follows the next, and other things dominate time and space, and suddenly the realization hits that a day went by and the thought of the lost one didn't linger, and then another and another, until it is almost its own comfort. It doesn't make the loss any less, just acceptable. Just as a sound, or a smell, or a piece music can bring the grief back full force. On the good days, she took the win and smiled, and on the bad, she imagined him under a sea of stars and told herself that it okay to take that loss and turn it over, and hide, for just a little while in sleep.

She broke his gaze as she watched him undress, following the line of button as they came undone. He was magic and mystery in the moonlight, and despite the depth of the conversation, the kisses, and the way he had held her, he reminded her so much of her dream lover. She wanted to close her eyes, but was afraid if she did, and reopened them, he would be gone. Mentally she shook her head. He was back, and he had invaded her world with the force of a comet. Her mind reeled from the impact; her whole existence once more thrown off its celestial track. And yet, she felt more solid than she had in years. She still trusted him on that most existential level. He had her back, she knew this. Knew he would kill for her, die for her, but would he live for her? Could she trust him to catch her trajectory, stay in it with her? That was what she had been trying to say, to explain to him. She was afraid that he would continue to crash into her poor heart, trample her with his previous careless affection. She took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts down, raising herself from the bed, moving to him, to help him slide the shirt away. She was here and he was here, and she was determined that this was her ambit and her choice. It would hurt no less to let him go then for him to walk away, again. He already owned this part of her, and she obviously meant something to him, and she needed to know.

Feathering her fingers along her collar bone, she took another moment just to take him in.

He caught her hands, holding them to his chest. "If you touch me right now, I am not sure I'll have the control to love you the way I want." Releasing her, his fingers tunneled into her hair, palms resting against her cheeks. "You deserved to be loved and treasured. Let me do this for you, and for me."

Biting her lip, she brought her hands up to cup his wrists. "I've never been much of a passive participant." Her brow raised a little in challenge.

A grin flashed across his lips. "I'm not expecting passivity, Liv. I want you fully engaged. I'm just asking you to allow that lovemaking." He released her face and moved to the opening of her jacket, pushing it off her shoulders. Dropping her arms, she let it slide off. "Why do you hide yourself in those bulky things? I miss the blouses and sweaters that used to show off your curves."

As he started on the buttons of her blouse, she surrounded his wrists again. She waited until he paused, meeting her eyes. "My curves are a little softer than they used to be…"

"Thank God." He interrupted, dropping a quick peck to her mouth.

She chuckled. "Time hasn't been as kind to me as it has to you, El." Her hands slid up his arms, tracing the strength of his arms to the shoulder and back down again. "I worked with a personal trainer, but I haven't been as dedicated as you." Another smile flitted across her face as she repeated her actions. It lasted only a second and then something serious flashed in her eyes. "There are things we need talk about, things that happened while you were gone. But I don't want them here, there isn't time now for them." Her gaze dipped down to his mouth, and back up again. "I have scars, El. Some of them are bad. I'm not hiding, or ashamed, I just want you to know so it can just be us here and now."

Something burned in his gut at the look in her eyes, at the fact that whatever was hidden by her clothing was something she thought would bother him. It told him by her gaze and her words that it was something that would because he knew her, and she knew him better than anyone else. He also heard the unspoken words, the ones telling him that he had to let go of his catholic guilt because there was no room for ghosts between them. He nodded, gently drawing her close, his mouth whispering across her lips. "You and me, Liv. Just you and me."

Clothes disappeared in a rush of eager hands and whispered words and tender kisses. Light filtered in through the bedroom window, cast the room in silver and shadows. He guided her back to the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp, wanting to see every inch of her.

"El…" Her voice held a breathless tone he had never heard from her. The very seductiveness of it radiated down his spine, straight to his groin. He turned back to her, giving her his full attention.

"Don't please, let me keep you in moonlight." Her eyes traveled over him, taking in all the places she wanted to touch, travel with her tongue. "I've dreamed of you so many times this way, that I don't think my mind could handle any other reality right now."

His brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded, stepping back toward her, taking the hand she held up to him as he knelt on the bed. He kissed it tenderly, as he lay beside her.

The moon cast her body in an ethereal glow, and for just a moment, he wondered if he too were trapped in dreams. Even though he still held her hand, he reached out, his touch firmer than he intended, testing to see if she were real. His breath slid out on a sigh as he met the warmth of her flesh. His fingers glided over the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the ripple of rib, the slope of her breast, the crest of a dusky nipple. He lingered there, circling the taut tip, smiling as it tightened further, a rush of goosebumps rippling across the surface.

"El…" The huskiness of her voice captured him again, the novelty of it making him want to hear it over and over. The thought occurred to him to see if he could make it echo and break on his name. He shifted to grip her breast, molding around it, lifting slightly as his mouth came down encasing the nipple. He was tempted to draw in more of her, he wanted to engulf her, consume her, but he kept himself under control. There was time to learn and experiment, but he didn't want to overwhelm and possibly hurt her. His first goal however was a success. As he nipped at the tip of her, her breath caught, and his name rasped out in her husky cadence. He repeated himself with her other breast, and as he drew back, he noted a tattoo of tiny flowers dancing around the curve of it.

"El…" She called again. He lifted his head to meet her gaze, allowing his thumb to take over the play on her nipple. "I know you want to make love with me, but we've had twenty years of foreplay." Her hand came up, stroking his cheek, riffling through his beard. "I don't think I can stand anymore teasing. Please, just… please." Her hand continued its foray, along the line of his neck, the hollow of it, across his chest to rest against his heart. She rose up, using her mouth to map that same path, cheek to chest. "Next time or even the next but be with me now. I need you."

He cupped the back of her head, drawing her in for another kiss. "And I need you." He rolled over her, tucking her under him, covering her from breast to hip, his thighs settling between hers, the length of him trapped between their bellies. "Am I too heavy?"

"No." She closed her eyes, absorbing the weight of him. Straight missionary had never been one of her favorites, she often felt stifled, breathing restricted. He was a solid mass of muscle against her, but while every part of them touched, he held himself in such a way that his weight wasn't completely on her. Once again, he managed to make her feel delicate and feminine, a perfect counterpoint to his masculinity and strength. She canted her hips, rotating her pelvis against his, marveling at his groan that radiated through them both.

"Olivia… be still."

She undulated beneath him again. "No." She whispered.

He dropped his head, face burrowing in that spot between her neck and shoulder that he favored. He lapped at the pulse point there, nibbling along the cord. "Just let me…"

"No." She leaned in, duplicating his actions, nipping his shoulder.

His body jerked in response, and he drew back a bit.

She took instant advantage of the miniscule space he had given her, snaking her hand between them, grasping him firmly, her thumb tracing over the moistened tip of him. Wiggling, she tried to maneuver him where she wanted, only to have him groan low in his throat and drop his weight more firmly against her. "O-liv-i-a." He ground out. "Enough. Too much more of this and I am afraid I will hurt you."

She stilled, her eyes moving back and locking with his. "I'm already hurting, El. I have been so empty for so long, an ache that has hovered over me for years. I don't want to tease right now. I need you to fill me up, to force this emptiness out, to shore up those things that are broken inside of both of us. Please El?"

And just like that, she broke him and rebuilt him. All the things she was asking for were really all the things he wanted. It wasn't just about foreplay and lovemaking. It was about wanting and needing and trusting and loving, building and growing and finding until all the little parts were entwined into something bigger. She defined him in ways he never understood or knew he needed. In the beginning, he hadn't wanted the little tendrils of her to blend with him, he had been married, with a family, and yet she had not been invasive, taking over wildly. Instead, she had crept in, a fragile vine, slowly working its way into his heart. He realized now that she had not taken over or pushed anyone out but had worked in tandem with the garden already planted, supporting the foundations there, trying to keep it all growing strong. "I… understand."

He shifted once more, this time allowing her to guide him to her core. The heat of her amazed him. Catching her hand, he drew it back up and to his shoulder. His hands curled back under her, cupping her shoulder blades. He had barely touched her, done nothing really to ready her, and yet her body was telling him he was more than welcome. His eyes locked with hers as he flexed his hips, coating himself in her moisture. Once, twice, and as her lips parted to object, he butted against her core once more, slowly pushing forward. He held her gaze, watching her eyes, the subtle arching of her throat, the flash of teeth as they bit into her lip. She was tight, so very tight, that he could feel her pulse in the flutters around him. He continued to push forward until he was seated to the hilt. He held himself there, giving them both time to adjust. He could not quantify the sound she made, but it touched a chord in him, and he broke her gaze to capture her lips. His eyes closed, and he drew back only to glide back in, reminiscent of the rocking he had done earlier, slow, and steady and comforting. "Yes."

Once more, his very deliberate tenderness made her feel precious and loved. While she savored the gentle, she could feel the edges of desire curling in her. She wanted him to speed up, push harder and deeper. She didn't want to float any longer, she wanted to fly. "More," she whispered. Surging up to meet him, she spoke again, confidence filling her words. "More El. I want more."

His eyes locked with hers, and he shifted again, drawing his knees up and under her thighs. His hand smoothed to her hips as he levered himself up, pulling her higher up his thighs. He widened his stance, opening her more fully to him. As his thumbs glided over her pelvic bone, he noticed an odd texture to her skin, but he didn't linger. He goal was the glistening flesh in front of him. He stilled, allowing his fingers to tease through her damp curls, pressing his thumbs to the place they were joined. She moaned, and he rocked into her, savoring that added pressure with each stroke.

This too wasn't enough, and she clenched her thighs, tightening her inner muscles. "More."

He let out a low chuckle. "Demanding little thing, aren't you?"

"Ell-i-ot!" She tried to arch into him, but he moved again, this time circling her clit with his clever fingers. "More!"

"Aye, Captain!" He teased back, and then he was holding her hips once more as he levered into her, each stroke increasing in pace until they were both gasping and soaring. He drew her up, clasping her to him as he continued to move. He wanted all of her, as much as he could hold with him. His body began to tighten, and he reached between them once more, pressing, circling. Her arms curled tightly around his neck her breath sobbing against his throat. As her body stiffened, his continued to stroke into her, allowing the spasms of her body to draw him over the edge as well.

As they sat there, curled around one another, he brushed sweat soaked hair from her face. "I love you." He whispered against her brow. A soft smile creased his lips as she nodded. He knew, had known for a very long time. He wanted the words, needed them, but not right now. He was content to read them in her eyes, and the gift of her body. He might be going undercover without her, but now he knew for certain he had something to come home for.

Long after he fell asleep, Olivia watched over him. She could send him away now, knowing he would come back to her. She didn't like it, she certainly didn't want it, but she understood it. They were both guardians, destined to protect. Their jobs would pull them away from one another, but she understood now that they did in fact share the same orbit. They were caught in each other's gravitational pull, and they would always find their way back together. She passed a gentle caress across his brow, leaning in to place a tender kiss there as well. Her voice was soft, and happy as she spoke. "I love you, too." It might be the only way she could say it aloud, but for now, for this moment, it was enough.