Elliot woke with a start. It was four in the morning. He had been dreaming, but he couldn't quite remember what about. The images were fading quickly. He wasn't going to get back to sleep. He lay back and began to analyze the last few days. He wasn't puzzled by his re-activated sex drive; Olivia was gorgeous, but he didn't really know why she had been upset by Cindy-Ann, and he was very unsure of why he had felt so utterly guilty and concerned for her when he had seen the hurt in her face. They were just good friends, right? Perhaps not.

Olivia woke up at six and decided to have a shower. She tiptoed upstairs in a bra and underwear, thinking it would be really embarassing and awkward if she woke Elliot. She stepped into the bathroom quietly, and froze on the spot. Elliot was just stepping out of the shower, a towel around his waist, beads of water glistening on his skin.

"I didn't think. . .you'd. . ." She began, willing her eyes to stay on his, which roved over her body once, then returned to stare at her face. Her breath caught at what she saw in his eyes, in the way they stayed on hers as he took her face in his hands, as his mouth covered hers. The taste was hot and ready. Something screamed inside her, "This is not a good idea!"

She trembled, maybe in protest, maybe in fear. He wouldn't accept it.

His hands moved through her short hair, over her bare shoulders as the kiss roughened, and he pushed her back on the rug, covering her. The cold tiles dug into her shoulders.

Panic raced inside her, competing with desire that had sprung up, fast and feral. She pushed at his shoulders as if to hold him off, even as she arched up to grind her hips against his.

"I can't give you what you want," she whispered.

How could she not feel it? He took his mouth on a journey of her face while she quivered under him. His lips brushed hers, teasing, tasting.

"Then take what you want. Let me touch you, Olivia." He skimmed his hand up her ribs, felt the reaction as his fingers closed lightly over her breast.

He lowered his mouth to her jaw and heard her moan. Her taste, along the soft, vulnerable spot where he could feel her pulse, flooded into him.

He said her name.

Her fingers dragged over the back of his head to bring his mouth back to hers. To pull him under with her.

Olivia felt a rush of delight and a raw edge of desire as their mouths warred, knew the reckless greed as he tore her bra away and cupped her breasts with his hands.

Firm and possesive, his body pressed down on her and she yielded. To him, and to herself.

He felt the change, not just in the giving of her body. Surrender came sweet and unpredicted.

He knew at that moment that she was the woman he'd fallen headlong in love with. His hands slowed, gentled, inciting more trembles with a kind of lazy deliberation that made her head spin. He began a slow, savouring journey.

Pleasure shimmered over her skin, warmed and sensitized it. With a moan of approval, she stripped away his towel and reveled in the slide of flesh against flesh, the comfortims beat of his heart against hers.

"More." She heard her own breathless demand and arched back to offer. "Take more."

The line of her throat drew his lips over and down. Her breath caught and let go as he closed his mouth over her breast.

Need leaped in his stomach. His mouth grew more urgent. Every demand was answered, a moan, a movement, a murmur.

He teased her swollen nipple with his teeth and she moaned loudly. Still sucking and kissing, Elliot slid her panties down her legs. He bent his head down between her thighs and began to explore her with his tongue, making her reel. She choked out his name, fighting against a panicked excitement that threatened to swallow her whole. Elliot reached into the cupboard for a condom, hastily unwrapping it with trembling hands. Olivia sat up langorously.

"Here, let me do that for you," she said, taking it from him. She slid it over him slowly as she rubbed with her fingers. Elliot put one hand under her shoulder and guided her back down. Her open lips were begging to be kissed, so he did, right before he slid into her with long strides.

"It's you," he said hoarsely, "It's always been you." Soon his urgent need overtook him and he quickened and deepened. Olivia came first, gasping his name before collapsing into shudders. Elliot followed soon after. He got up in an after-sex haze and threw the condom away. When he lay back down beside Olivia, he saw that her face was streaked with shiny tears.

"Hey. What is it?" He asked softly. She turned her head away from him.

"Nothing. It's just. . .that was. . ." She couldn't finish.

"Amazing."

"Wonderful." Elliot was insanely relieved. He had thought he had hurt her. He took one hand and tenderly wiped her tears away.

"Elliot," she began.

"Shhh. Not now," he interrupted with a hand to her lips. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He asked.

"Not much."

"Me neither. What do you say we catch up?" He suggested. She nodded. She stood up and pulled a towel around herself. She began to walk downstairs, but Elliot grabbed her arm and tried to lead her to his room. She yanked free with a choking, "No." Elliot watched her retreat down the stairs, clutching the towel around her, his mind filled with warring thoughts.

Olivia threw on her clothes in a haze of tears. She needed to get out, to clear her head, to make sense of what had just happened. She pulled on her coat and went into the frost-covered backyard. Huddling on a frozen plastic lawnchair, she silently cursed herself. Nothing was certain anymore, except that she was crazy of Elliot, and she had just screwed him on his bathroom floor. How could she have been so stupid? And why did it happen? Was it just the irresistible sexual pull of two half-naked, heterosexual people? She needed to know. She needed to have answers. "It's always been you." What the Hell did that mean?

When Elliot woke up, Olivia was sitting on the foot of his bed.

"What's going on?" She asked. Elliot sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm not entirely sure." He pulled himself out of bed and sat beside her. His t-shirt and boxers contrasted with the formality of her work clothes.

"I didn't think it was appropriate for me to sleep in your bed," she said by way of explaining her earlier behaviour. He had to take a minute.

"Do you actually believe this is just about sex?" She shrugged.

"I don't object to sex, I just think we might have made a mistake. We should straighten this out before it goes any further. I don't want to hurt you."

"It didn't feel like a mistake."

"I don't want to hurt you, Elliot." Some of the emotions filling her seeped into her voice.

"Olivia, you've been inside me for over three years. When I look three years into the future, you're still there. You're still there when I look six years into the future. And nine years. And twelve years. Why are you trying to shake me off?"

"I don't come from the kind of people you come from. My mother was a victim, my father a rapist. That's what's inside me."

"So everyone who comes from a difficult background isn't capable of love?"

"This isn't a debate, Elliot. I'm telling you I don't want to be involved with you like this." Elliot reached up, touched her face, then framed it in his hands.

"Look at me, Liv. I'm so completely in love with you." He hadn't conciously realized it until he said it, but now he had, he knew it was true. A messy mix of happiness and fear clogged Olivia's throat.

"I don't want you to be."

"I know. It scares you. Tell me just one thing." He cruised into a kiss. "Is what you're feeling just a few sparks?"

It was warmth she felt, a steady stream of it, and an aching longing that coursed through her body.

"No," she whispered.

"Good answer. Let me love you." He pulled her backward onto the bed, confusing her senses with his hands.

He was patient and thorough and sensitive and loving.

When he moved inside her, slow and smooth and deep, he saw the message he wanted in her eyes. "I love you, Olivia."

He closed his mouth over hers and drew in her ragged breaths as she confessed.

"I love you too."

**********

When the phone rang, Olivia rolled over to answer it.

"Hello?" She said, still lost in the warmth of afterglow and sleep.

"Olivia?"

"Fin? Oh, Shit! We totally lost track of time. Can you cover for us? Say that there was construction on the road and really bad traffic jams, okay? Thanks, I owe you one." She hung up, turning to Elliot. "We gotta hurry," she said. He groaned, pulling her into his arms for a kiss.

"Not yet," he whined.

"I know. I'd like to stay here, too," she said, pressing her lips to his again.

By the time they got to work, they were three hours late.

**********

Because Tuesday was so long, I have divided it into two parts. However, I haven't written Tuesday, part two, yet, so stay tuned.