The unit has been stuck with another high-profile case. And as luck would have it, the two of them have been stuck together on it. He's been acting more than slightly aloof with her ever since she asked him that question the night of the stakeout, and though he hasn't been avoiding her completely, she wants to know why.

"You never did answer that question I asked you," she says to him as they leave the precinct to head to the medical examiner's office.

"I don't see why I should have to," he replies mildly. "I'm starting to think that questions like that should be off-limits."

"Why?" she asks. "That's half the fun…getting people to answer stuff they wouldn't normally."

"It just seems a little inappropriate," he says, but it's a feeble effort to get out of answering, and both of them know it. She pokes at him as she makes the turn that will take them to their destination.

"How is it inappropriate?" she asks. "It's just two detectives working the same unit trying to get to know each other."

"You'd do better to do this with your partner," he tells her, "He'd probably be a lot more willing to answer this." She makes a face.

"I doubt it," she says. "This is probably the last thing he'd want to be doing." He gives her a look of mock annoyance.

"So, you're only doing this to me because you think Elliot wouldn't want to answer all these questions? That's great, Liv."

She turns into the parking lot and shuts off the ignition, taking off her seatbelt before looking at him and shaking her head. "You have, haven't you?" she asks.

"I've what?" he asks in reply, feigning innocence, but she knows better, and she shakes her head, laughing.

"You've been in love with someone you couldn't have, that's what," she says. "Don't lie about it, either."

"Fine," he replies, "I won't. I have. And no, I won't tell you who it is, either." She shrugs, seemingly satisfied with the answer he's given.

"I don't want to know who it is," she says, with that air that tells him she's lying and that she really does want to know. "I just wanted to know whether or not you had."

"You know, I don't think I like this game anymore," he remarks. She eyes him as they walk inside and shakes her head.

"Don't tell me you're going to start being a baby about this," she warns, "Otherwise I'll just have to find someone else to do this to."

"I don't think Fin will take too well to this, either," he tells her. "It tends to make one feel as if they're being interrogated."

"Munch," she says, "If I were interrogating you, you'd know it…trust me. This is nothing."

"Nothing, she says," he mutters dryly as they walk into the morgue. "You're prying into my personal life and you call this nothing?"

"I'm hardly prying into your personal life," she tells him. "You have every right not to answer these questions, but you are."

"Yeah, well…" He trails off, mostly because he no longer has an argument, but also because Melinda has just come into view. She eyes them both for a moment before proceeding to give them the information that they've come for. As usual, it only takes a few minutes and then the two detectives are on their way again. Once outside, he looks at his watch.

"Liv?" he says, and she looks over at him absently, fishing through her pockets for the keys.

"What?" she asks in reply.

"You want to go and grab a coffee or something? I don't think anyone will miss us for a while." he says. She glances at her own watch and then offers up a faint smile as she looks at him.

"Sounds like a plan," she says, "Where were you thinking about going?" He shrugs, reaching out and tugging the keys from her grip.

"Hey," she says in protest, "I'm driving." He shakes his head, smirking.

"Not this time," he says. "Besides, I have someplace in mind, and I don't think you know where it is."

When they reach the car, he pulls the passenger side door open for her and waits until she gets in before closing it and walking over to the driver's side and getting in.

"No one's done that for me in a while," she remarks, and he looks at her as he turns the car on.

"What?" he asks. "Opened a door for you?" She nods, looking down as a faint blush crosses her face. He shakes his head again, chuckling softly.

"Well, you know, chivalry isn't completely dead yet," he says. "At least, I'd like to think it's not."

"You're just old," she teases. "You were probably raised to do stuff like that." He glances at her as they leave the parking lot, for some reason fighting the desire to laugh.

"You're right," he tells her, "I was, and I can't for the life of me see why it's managed to stick with me."

She laughs. "I think I like this side of you," she remarks, before she can stop herself. He looks at her as they come to a stoplight a ways from the parking lot.

"What side?" he asks.

"This one," she says. "You're not…you're not so cold, like you don't want anything to do with anyone."

"Is that really what you think of me?" he asks quietly, and once again she realizes that she's stuck her foot in her mouth.

"I didn't mean it like that," she says. "I just meant that it always seems like you'd rather be alone than with someone."

"Everyone has their moments like that, Liv," he says.

"Well, it feels like you have those moments more often than everyone else," she says. "It gets to the point where people are bound to start asking questions."

"Like you?" he asks in reply. She looks at him for a moment before reaching out and taking his free hand in her own.

"Yeah," she says softly, "Like me." Silence falls between them then, and suddenly, he feels awkward, as if they've somehow managed to cross the line of friendship without really doing anything. Her grip on his hand tightens when he tries to pull away and he looks at her.

"Do I have to remind you that you're in a relationship or can you remember that on your own?" he asks finally.

"Sarcasm will get you nowhere," she tells him. "I know I'm in a relationship, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"Yeah," he says absently, "It doesn't, does it?" She offers up another faint smile as she looks at him. He gets the feeling then that she can see right through him, and he isn't sure he wants her to.

"You have a favorite song?" he blurts after a few seconds of silence, and she shakes her head, laughing.

"Favorite song?" she asks. "Come on, Munch, is that the best you can come up with?"

"It's not even ten in the morning," he points out. "And not only that, but you and I were both up for most of last night trying to do our jobs."

"Good point," she says, covering her mouth as she yawns. "Are we anywhere near that place you were talking about?"

"Few more minutes," he tells her. "Now, are you going to answer me or what?" She wrinkles her nose as she thinks for a minute, going through all of the songs she knows and all the songs she's heard and trying to figure out which is her favorite. After a while, she decides to just blurt an answer.

"Unchained Melody." He stares at her for a few minutes since they've come to yet another stoplight, trying to determine whether or not she's serious. She stares back at him, somehow managing to hold his gaze, and after a while, he looks away.

"You're really serious about that, aren't you?" he asks.

"Yes," she says defensively, "I am. Do you have a problem with that?" He shakes his head.

"No," he says, "I don't. As a matter of fact, I actually like that song myself." She chuckles.

"Who'd have thought?" she asks. He rolls his eyes and pulls into yet another parking lot before looking at her again.

"What?" he says. "I'm not allowed to like love songs?" She lets go of his hand and pushes the car door open.

"I didn't say that," she says. "You're perfectly entitled to like whatever songs you want."

"Then why are you acting like it's so strange for me to like that song in particular?" he demands, following her out of the car. He glances at her over the roof before going on. "Is it just because you like that song?"

"Maybe," she says vaguely. "I just never really thought of you as the kind of guy that liked that kind of song."

"Liv," he says, shaking his head, "How do you think I get all those women to go out with me?"

"I'm hurt," she says, pulling her coat closer around her. "I thought I was the first girl you brought here."

"You are," he tells her, walking over to her side of the car and gently pushing her forward. She starts to walk and turns her head to look at him.

"I am?" she asks, sounding almost startled, and he allows a faint smile to cross his face as they draw nearer to the door.

"Yeah," he says, "You are. But don't let it go to your head, there might be others after you."

She smirks. "Knowing you, that's probably true," she says, "But that's not the point. The point is that I was the first one."

"Aren't you conceited?" he asks mockingly, opening the door and ushering her inside. She laughs and reaches behind her to swat at him.

"Yes, and you love me for it, too," she says. He follows her inside, startled by what she's just said, and wondering whether or not she really has managed to see right through him.

"Hey," she says, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. "I'm going to go order. What do you want?"

"No," he says, "You are going to sit down somewhere. I'll go order. What do you want?"

She shrugs, an almost mischievous grin crossing her face as she goes to find someplace for them to sit. "Surprise me."


A/N: Wow. This really is longer than I thought it would be. This is actually the first chaptered fic that I've been able to do on my own, see, usually one of my friends helps write them, but the friend that normally helps doesn't like this pairing, so now I'm just going to shut up and go.