Elliot's hands were shaking.

What the hell just happened? One moment they were talking, or more to the point fighting, the next moment they were … he couldn't even say it.

He hadn't meant for this to happen. Not like that, not up against an alley wall like she was just a piece of ass. He had followed her here because he needed to talk to her. He wanted to know how she was feeling after the crash, after Porter's death, after her interview with the feds. He wanted to tell her how he couldn't bear the thought of losing her without her ever knowing just how he felt. Instead he accused her of having no life, no soul and pushed himself onto her.

No, he didn't. She had wanted it. He'd seen it in her eyes, heard it in her voice and felt it between her legs. If she hadn't wanted him, she would have had no trouble telling him to take a hike. Wouldn't she?

He felt like he was about to be sick.

He'd been chasing her for days and the frustration had been slowly mounting, she kept running and he'd kept chasing. He had been across the street from the coffee shop when she met with Porter, in the parking lot at the Brewhouse, parked across the street at Silverman's home and then followed her to her hotel car park.

When she called him from her room he thought maybe she'd seen him but then he heard the pain in her voice.

I don't want a new partner Elliot.

He knew how hard it must have been to make that phone call. He knew the strength it would have taken to take that step and he just obliterated it to hell.

I requested the partner change.

When she hung up on him he didn't call back and he wasn't planning on going to her because he was a gutless son of a bitch who couldn't bear to see the hurt in her eyes. When he saw Porter enter the hotel with intent masking his face that's when he finally stepped in. He knew something was wrong and he was in D.C. as her invisible coat of protection but when he got to her room it was too late.

Again.

He had followed them on the highway at a certain distance in an effort to remain inconspicuous. It wasn't until they'd taken the exit to the gas station that he lost them. Then he got her second phone call and heard the gunshot, the glass, the struggle.

Where are you?

Just when he thought he'd lost them entirely he saw them moving back onto the highway at an intense speed. When they clipped that first car he had been moments from ramming straight up the back of their vehicle but he managed to swerve, dodge their car and miss surrounding traffic. Then he looked on in his rear view mirror as the oncoming SUV headed straight towards them, moments from smashing into them head on.

There was nothing he could do.

He'd grabbed her tonight out of sheer desperation. He has lost count of how many times he thought he'd be attending her funeral and he was done running. He needed her to just stop for one God damn minute so he'd dragged her into the alley, demanding answers.

That wasn't how it was supposed to go.

She deserved somuch more than that. It should have happened in a bed, in privacy, in warmth, in safety. It should have been gentle, she'd just been in a car crash for Christ sake. He should have explained the divorce papers, told her how he felt about her and woken up the next morning with her in his arms.

But it just wasn't them.

He wondered if it ever could be.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do. If he went to her now she'd probably take out a restraining order. If he didn't go to her she'd think that was all he wanted from her. The days would slowly pass by and suddenly she'd be back at work with a new partner and a new wall up between them. The months would drag on and they'd never speak of this again.

He drove by her apartment but when he saw her lights were off he drove home.


She lay in the tub.

No soap, no bubbles, just searing hot water.

Her body was aching but it was nothing compared to the ache inside her.

She took a deep breath and submerged herself in the water and everything went quiet. She heard distant pipes groaning and the small clink as her necklace pendants hit the porcelain.

She wanted to clear her mind, the hot water dulled her senses but it did nothing to dull her thoughts. She wished for a more substantial release but short from draining the sealed bottle of scotch that sat high in her cupboard, this would have to do.

Her wrist was stinging, her arm was aching and her ribs were sore. She wouldn't let herself think about the ache between her legs.

What the hellhad she done?

She hadn't cried or broken down because that would signify regret and she wasn't sure if she could regret something so damn explosive.

She came up for air and as her lungs filled, her body rose slightly out of the water. She licked her lips and they were sensitive, raw almost from his relentless mouth. Her breasts peeked out of the searing hot water hitting the cool night air and her nipples immediately hardened. She clung to the sides of the tub as the water rippled across her body and she closed her eyes.

She was trying desperately to will the thoughts away, his hands between her legs, inside her panties, pulling them down her legs and unzipping his pants. Her legs parted just slightly under the water and she felt the hot water seep between her legs, soothing her ache.

She shouldn't be thinking about this, about him in this light, she should be angry at what she let happen tonight but her body was slowly betraying her. She was no stranger to rough sex, public sex, casual sex but this was Elliot. The whole thing was so wrong, so careless, so fucking stupid.

But damn had it felt good.

She let a hand move across her chest and over her breast and she just let it rest there. A few moments passed and she let her fingers smooth lazily over her nipple. Then he was in the room, kneeling beside the bath and he was caressing her, teasing her, thumbing her nipple making her breath quicken and her legs part just slightly.

She opened her eyes and blinked against the beads of water that started to sting her irises. Her hand moved up and rubbed over her neck. She couldn't do this, she couldn't lie here and picture his hands on her breasts or between her legs or she'd die a slow and painful death.

She needed to forget Elliot and the alley and the ever-growing need between her legs because it was over. It was one moment in twelve years where they'd given in, given up and fuckedup.

What the hell had she done?


She hadn't left her house in four days.

She slept, she stared at the ceiling, she watched the TV on mute and when she ran out of sleeping pills she broke the seal and drank a third of the bottle of scotch.

She had two more days until she had to be back at work and she tried to imagine how she was supposed to handle it without him.

They'd be a desk away but a world apart.

She wondered if they'd talk about it, if it would be acknowledged or if they'd both sweep it under the rug where it rightfully belonged. Would he be angry with her, upset with how she left things or would he be indifferent, content that he got it out of his system and now he could move on.

Would he ever look at her the same again?

After another three swigs of the bottle of scotch her stomach turned and she vomited into the sink.


He dreamt that she came to him.

He heard the knock on the door and when he pulled it open she was standing there in jeans, a tee-shirt and her token leather jacket. She had a look on her face like she wanted to kill him.

Instead of running her mouth, she brought it up against his and kissed him hard pushing him backward into his apartment and slamming the door shut. He tried to steady himself but she had the advantage, catching him off guard and suddenly his back was making contact with the wall. He felt her teeth dig into his lower lip and he called out in surprize as she practically drew blood. She released his lip and pulled it between hers, softly soothing it with her tongue and he moaned into her mouth.

Her hands went straight for his belt and he let her open it, unbutton his pants and unzip him. She tugged them downward along with his briefs and he was already hard as if he had known she was coming. When she knelt down to remove his pants he realized she wasn't coming back up, her face was mere inches from his erect penis.

He told her to stand up.

She told him to fuck off.

Her hand was smoothing down the length of him before he could rebut and she grasped him at the base. He watched in awe as she lent in, her tongue circling his tip before she closed her mouth around him. His eyes slipped shut and his hands reached out to steady himself on the wall. When she took in the full length of him he hummed his response.

He was in her mouth, her goddamn mouth with those full lips sliding up his cock. He had to open his eyes. He looked down to see him disappearing into her mouth, one hand at the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh.

He started subtly rocking his hips back and forth and he watched as she adapted to the new pace and met him head to head. He reached out and combed his fingers through her hair until he was holding her head in place and she instantly wacked him away.

He bit back a smile.

She was holding him by the thighs now, her fingernails biting into his skin with each drive and his head fell back against the wall. His breathing was heavy and he was moaning openly at the intense pleasure that was coursing through his groin. Her hand slid around to grasp him again and she pulled back tonguing his tip.

His hand found her shoulder. He wanted to tell her he was close, pull her off him but she was having none of it. She batted his hand away and moved her mouth down his length once more. The pleasure streaming through him right now was un-fucking-believable. He couldn't help but thrust into her wet, open mouth with more vigor and he felt her muffled vocal response vibrate down his length.

His hands were in her hair again, bunching her curls into fistfuls as she continued her assault on his cock. She let him hold her this time as she moved him in and out of her mouth. He felt her teeth lightly skim his shaft and his breath hitched. When she smoothed her tongue attempting to sooth the area he bucked into her and she closed her mouth around him. He drove into her once, twice, three times and then lost it, pouring himself into her.

She swallowed what he had to give and when he started to get his breathing under control he dropped his head to watch as she continued to lick him dry. When her almond eyes moved up and captured his she just stared at him, blinking at him, expressionless.

He woke up sweaty as fuck and sticky as hell.


He sat at his desk and stared across at Fin who was now taking up the space where his partner used to sit.

He was on the phone, her phone, chasing a lead and Elliot chewed on his bottom lip.

Today was the day she was coming back to work and his hands were still shaking. That dream, that fucking dream had done nothing but rattle the hell out of him and he felt even more of a prick than he did before. He wasn't ready to see her again, not yet. Maybe he could just leave, take a personal day for the first time in three years.

When Fin hung up the phone his eyes darted straight to Elliot's.

"You wanna tell me what's so damn interesting?" He sounded a little pissed at the unwanted attention.

Elliot cleared his throat and looked away. "Anything?" he mumbled turning his attention back to the case.

"Another dead end," Fin grumbled before getting up and seizing his coffee mug.

Elliot's gaze remained on her empty chair as Fin made his way over to the coffee pot.

"So what's this Detective Benson like?" He overheard Bennett say to Fin's back.

Detective Bennett just transferred from Brooklyn and Elliot had only said one word to him.

Stabler.

Elliot watched as Fin attempted to respond but when he caught Elliot's eyes on them he nodded in his direction.

"You should be asking him."

Bennett looked over at Elliot and they made eye contact, he could sense the hesitation as Bennett approached. Elliot hadn't been the most welcoming presence and he was catching on quick. He took a couple of steps towards him and took a sip of his fresh coffee.

Elliot cleared his throat.

"She's the best," he said simply saving Bennett from having to ask.

Bennett nodded, seemingly pleased with Elliot's answer.

"Any words of wisdom?" He cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. He knew they used to be partners but had no idea why they weren't anymore.

Elliot fingered the pen in his hand and his eye line dropped down to Bennett's bare ring finger.

A few beats passed and he could feel Fin's eyes on him when he said it.

"Don't scratch the surface."


He was hanging up his phone when she walked in.

Before he could look away she had made eye contact with him for a split second before dropping it. Instead of stopping in front of his desk like she usually did she continued towards Fin's old desk. She dumped her coat over the back of her chair and Bennett looked up from his desk. She was pulling off her scarf when Bennett spoke.

"Detective Benson I presume?" he asked with a hint of intrigue, unsure if he had the right person. She nodded and when it was clear he wasn't mistaken he stood up and held out his hand.

"Detective Bennett, your new partner."

Elliot stilled at the words and he watched as she wavered for a short moment. Then she took his hand and with a smile she reserved for strangers she shook it with grace.

"Nice to meet you Bennett."

She sat down and he watched out of the corner of his eye as she took in the contents of her desk. It had all been moved - the pictures, her coffee mug, the files and he wondered if it bothered her that she was the one who had to move desks.

Fin had come back into the bullpen and spotted her inspecting her top drawer.

"Welcome back Liv." He gave her a compassionate smile and she looked up as he took a seat at her old desk.

"Thanks," she said quietly studying how Fin looked in her place. Then her eyes moved the short distance to Elliot's and she just stared at him with an expression he couldn't place. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something to him but Bennett cut her off.

"Liv?"

Olivia's eyes whipped to his in surprise and Elliot's fists clenched beneath his desk. He would need to serve years beside her before he earned the right to use that name.

"As in.. Livia?" Bennett asked curiously clearing up the question.

"Olivia," she corrected with a smile.

Bennett looked surprized. "Nice, we have the same initials then."

Olivia scratched her cheek and waited for him to answer the lingering question.

"Owen," he said with a smile. "Owen Bennett."

Elliot wanted to punch something.


"Can I talk to you a sec?"

Elliot looked up and Olivia's brown eyes were watching him as he flicked through the files on his desk.

His mouth opened in surprise and his heart rate started to ascend at how forthcoming she was. It had been six days since that night and neither of them had made any attempt to contact the other. She never wanted to talk, especially to him and particularly now after all things considered.

He let out the breath he was holding and stood up, nodding in compliance trying not to act like a jackass. Bennett was in Cragen's office and Fin was on the phone chasing yet another lead so he assumed Olivia had chosen this moment intentionally. He followed her a body length behind as she made her way to the locker room.

She was a different person at work and always had been. He was no stranger to glimpses of 'off the clock' Olivia. In her pyjamas with bed head, getting dressed for a date at the precinct or coming in on Sunday in her casual can't-be-fucked hoodie and ponytail. He'd seen it all but there was just something about her in those jeans, a modest sweater with her badge and gun clipped to her hip that made her seem off limits. She carried herself differently as if she sported a big neon sign flashing 'fuck with me and pay'. Maybe that's how he'd managed to keep his hands off her all of these years.

She held the door open and he walked through the threshold. He stepped a good distance into the room before he heard her click the door shut behind them. When he turned around he was rubbing his neck somewhat awkwardly. The tension was high, almost as if he'd been called into the principles office. He had no idea what to expect from her.

When she didn't say anything and was barely looking at him he felt a pang of guilt flood through his body. He should be the one that started this, apologized and made things right.

"Liv I-"

"Don't," she cut him off, her tone wasn't angry but it wasn't particularly pleasant either. "I don't want to talk about it, I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

The polite easy going Olivia from the bullpen had suddenly vanished now that they were alone. He considered her statement but couldn't seem to comprehend an answer. He had no idea what page she was referring to or what page they should be on.

He realized in that moment he still hadn't hugged her, after everything they'd been through since Sin he hadn't hugged her - he'd fucked her, but he hadn't hugged her. He was a prick.

When it was clear he had no idea how to answer her and wasn't going to any time soon she folded her arms in front of her in what he assumed was disappointment and began to speak.

"I wasn't myself the other night," she confirmed in a low voice and his eyebrows immediately furrowed in confusion.

What was she doing?

"I wasn't in a good place after…" her words drifted off and she looked away. "After everything."

Her words ripped into him and he found it hard to breathe. Was she trying to tell him that she'dacted out of turn and was assuming part or all the blame? He was the one who pushed her, she had been trying to walk away from him, away from thembut he made her crack. He'd taken advantage of her when she was most vulnerable and he loathed himself for it. Now here she was wringing out the honesty, the regret, the pain right before his eyes.

He ached to reach out and reassure her with a touch, tell her it was going to be ok but he couldn't because even he didn't know if it would be. Six days ago he would have been able to comfort her with his words, his hands, a look, now he felt like standing there and not talking was his only option. She looked uncomfortable as if she were trying to remain neutral but he could see the makings of suppressed emotion threatening to break through.

"I know we're not partners Elliot but we still have to work together," her eyes had somehow made their way back to his. "We can still do that right?" Her voice sounded so small and he sensed the fear in her tone at the thought that a desk between them might not be enough.

He nodded because he needed to get that look of anguish off her face and despite the on-flood of things he wanted to say to her, he had no words to give her in that moment. He could tell she wasn't exactly convinced with his answer but at that point she looked more desperate to end this conversation than he did.

"Good," she said mostly to herself and rocked back on her feet before she turned and headed for the door.


"Tell me about Silverman," Huang's calm voice spoke.

The memory made Olivia exhale and she was slightly caught off guard. She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers intertwining as she examined her short fingernails.

"What do you want to know?" She couldn't hide the reservation in her voice because she didn't want to be here. She didn't need to be here. Six long days in her apartment was more than enough time to mull over her recent past but Cragen made it clear that if she didn't give up an hour of her time today he'd have her badge and her gun. Permanently.

She could only avoid this for so long.

"What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think about him?" Huang continued and she wondered why he was bringing Silverman up when he had so much more on her.

She started to fidget, her thumbs dancing over one another.

"I thought you were going to ask me about the crash?" she queried restlessly. "About Porter?" she prodded. She wanted to get to the crux of it because tiptoeing around the subject would only land her an extended session.

"You've been in life threatening situations before," Huang confirmed as if it wasn't particularly noteworthy. "And from what I gather you seem indifferent whenever I mention Agent Porter's name," he said with a head tilt as if waiting for her confirmation.

As much as she hated to admit it Huang was right. The crash didn't keep her up at night, Porter's death didn't enter her subconscious as much as she'd expected it would. It was Silverman that continued to resonate with her well after the ordeal.

But it didn't mean she wanted to talk about him.

"I don't blame myself for Porter's death," she started because she wanted to vocalize it more than anything. "He was in over his head."

It was true, whatever his intentions were they weren't for her sake, she had been caught up in the thick of it and she had no doubt he'd sell her down the river if it meant saving his ass. Her interview with the feds had only confirmed his actions were corrupt and she'd made peace with that. She'd never intentionally wish harm on Porter but there was no point mulling over a man who bent the rules so hard they broke. He'd made his own bed. The one thing she did yearn for however was closure, the why's and the how's behind Porter's actions but she'd learnt that some answers are better left unfound.

"You had a history, if not guilt, then surely you feel something," Huang began.

She furrowed her eyebrows and she almost felt shameful for not feeling that standard bout of empathy one was supposed to feel from another's death. She just couldn't get past the fact that any history they had was cancelled out by the deceit.

Our feelings don't matter.

She opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again knowing admitting these thoughts to him would only dig a deeper hole. When it was clear she wasn't going to answer Huang moved on.

"What about Silverman?" he asked and she clenched her hands together, suddenly wishing they were back on Porter.

"Tell me how you feel about his death?"

She closed her eyes. She didn't know, it wasn't guilt, she knew that much because whether or not she had shown up that night he still wouldn't have got his partner back. He was set in his ways and wouldn't let her or anyone else help. She kept thinking if they'd just saved the right wagon he'd be tucked up in bed with his partner right now but she had been saved, and for what? A quick fuck up against an alley wall.

She rubbed a hand over her face and the guilt singed it's way through her body, she didn't feel worthy and she wondered if she ever would.

Tell your partner how you feel.

She could tell Huang was waiting for her response and it came out in a strained voice.

"I didn't know Silverman." She'd said the words but she couldn't shake the feeling that she felt like she did.

"You don't need to be close to someone to be affected by their death," Huang told her knowingly. "Why do you think it bothers you so much?" he pushed realizing he had struck a bigger nerve than anticipated.

"I don't know." The honesty escaped her in a breath. She really didn't.

Huang considered her for a while as if he were debating how he'd shift the questioning in an effort to prod deeper.

"Describe him to me," Huang said quietly and when she looked up her face fell flat.

Her eyes moved to the clock behind Huang's head and she realized they only had ten minutes left. Suddenly she was pissed off that they were wasting time because there was no way she was coming back for round two. She wished he would just drop Silverman because discussing the death of a federal agent she hadn't even known a week wasn't going to get them anywhere. She could see Huang was reading her like a book and he wasn't going to give up that easy.

"What was he like?" he pressed.

She ran her hands down her thighs a couple of times before she exhaled sharply, giving in.

"He put everything on the line for his job, or more to the point his partner, he crossed the line and did things he shouldn't be proud of but he didn't see it that way because he was too blinded by the bigger picture. He was hotheaded, passionate, aggressive, manipulative when he had to be but deep down his intentions were pure and selfless. He gave up his life, his family, all for the job and in the end none of it mattered because he lost his partner and he lost himself."

She had said it in a calm and rational matter as if she had been reciting from an encyclopaedia but as the words sunk in, her eyes couldn't help but water slightly. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

Huang was staring at her with intensity, he didn't look surprised or shocked at the amount of detail she'd just provided on a complete stranger but there was something behind that look that made her throat catch.

"I really don't see what this has to do with anything," she said tiredly, wanting nothing more than for her ten minutes to be over.

She heard the distant ticking of the clock behind her before Huang finally lent forward and spoke as evenly as he could muster.

"You just described your partner."


"One black coffee, no sugar, no creamer, no taste." Bennett placed the takeaway coffee cup in front of Olivia and her eyes rose up to his in surprise.

She hadn't asked for a coffee, she didn't usually drink takeaway coffee unless they were on the road, the coffee pot in the corner would always suffice but she could see Bennett was trying. She had been there since 7am that morning and it was now bordering on 7pm.

She fingered the cup in front of her.

"Thanks." She gave him a small smile and watched as he took a sip from his own cup.

"I don't know how you drink that stuff straight, tastes like charred bark," he shook his head at her.

She smiled at his attempt at humor.

"You get used to it." She liked the burn, the bitterness and the caffeine hit without the sugar rush because it never lasted long enough.

She pulled the lid off the cup and blew on the contents once before taking a quick scull, the lid only prolonged the inevitable. She couldn't be taking dainty sips all evening or she'd be here all night. Two weeks off work was a considerable set back and she wondered if she'd get to see daylight this month.

Fin and Elliot had been out since 3ish chasing a lead and she hadn't seen or heard from them since. She was thankful for that because ever since she'd returned Elliot had become a distraction to her, she was constantly aware of his presence and it was off-putting.

"So you and Stabler used to be partners?" Bennett asked her between sips as if he had been reading her mind.

She looked up from her file and furrowed her eyebrows. It was common knowledge that they used to be partners so she was puzzled as to why he was stating the obvious.

"What happened?" he asked genuinely curious and she stifled a sigh, she didn't have time for this nor did she feel the need to discuss this with her partner of three days.

"12 years," she said slowly in a slightly strained voice. "It was time for a change."

His eyes narrowed in consideration as if he were debating whether or not he was buying it.

"So there wasn't one case that broke the camels back?"

Sin.

She tried not to glare.

"No," she expelled in a breath and felt a certain pang of guilt from the lie. Her eyes dipped straight back down to her file hoping he would get the hint and drop it.

"That's usually how it happens, one case," Bennett continued to ramble as if her disposition wasn't warning enough. "So you both just decided to call it time?"

She sighed and her elbow hit the desk a little too hard.

"Look Bennett, I've got a lot to get through tonight so if you don't mind." She had tried not to sound like a bitch but her frustration was mounting.

Bennett scratched his jaw. "I'm sorry," he raised his hands in a polite surrender and she almost felt guilty.

A few moments passed and he cleared his throat.

"I've got to get going anyway, tickets to the theatre," he explained. "So I'll leave you to it."

She nodded and was quietly grateful she'd have the place to herself so she could knock the paperwork on its head. Bennett began collecting his things and stood up.

"You sure you don't want a hand?" Bennett offered for the third time that day.

"I'm good," she replied without looking up. "It's all before your time so you're off the hook, enjoy it while it lasts."

"Will do," he said appreciatively. "Don't stay too late."

He walked passed her desk and her eyes didn't leave the page when she spoke.

"Thanks for the coffee."


It had to be at least three hours later and her back was aching, the coffee was now stone cold and she realized she hadn't been to the bathroom since lunchtime. She had put quite the dent in her paperwork but was coming to the realization that she wouldn't get through it all tonight and she'd be having a few more late nights this week. Bennett had been the last person to leave and the precinct had been deathly silent since.

She dropped her pen and lifted her arms in a prolonged stretch until she felt her back crack. She then dropped her head in her hands in an effort to will herself to wake up and summon just a little more energy to keep going. As she did her best to stifle a yawn she heard footsteps approaching behind her and she turned her head slightly and saw him. Elliot walking through the dark corridors into the precinct and for a moment she thought she was dreaming. Surprise lined her features as her gaze dropped down to her watch.

10:10pm

He looked just as taken aback by her presence.

"I didn't think anyone would be here," he said to her quietly as he made his way to his desk. He almost seemed disappointed that wasn't he case.

"A two week paperwork backlog," she explained in a less than ecstatic tone.

He nodded as he pulled open his top drawer and started furrowing for something, she wanted to ask what he was doing back here but she left it.

A few moments passed and he had found what he was looking for, shoved it into his pocket and walked over to her desk. He didn't continue past like she expected he would and stopped just short of her desk.

She did a double take and looked up at him somewhat questioningly.

His eyes had dropped down to the out of place takeaway coffee cup and he reached out turning it slightly to catch the name scribbled in marker.

Owen

He scratched his cheek and his eyes dropped to hers.

"Lets get a drink," he said quietly, his voice almost cracking.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Elliot, I've been doing paperwork since 7am."

"Exactly," he responded and when she didn't answer he shifted a little on his feet looking somewhat uncomfortable at her refusal.

"It will all still be there tomorrow," he tried.

"Exactly," she said with sarcasm, mimicking him from before.

He just stared at her and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck, wondering why he was pushing this so hard.

"Please Liv, one drink," he had dropped the alpha tone for the moment and his voice now carried a seriousness to it. She heard it, it wasn't about a drink or her company or a daily vent. It was about them, the inevitable conversation they'd both put off for so long.

She didn't want to do this tonight but there was something about his tone and the way he was watching her that made her nod in compliance.

"Ok," she exhaled and as she stood up she grasped the coffee cup and tossed it into the trash.


They road in silence and it was nothing new for them. She wondered if this was what their drink was going to be like.

She was getting sleepy and she let herself settle back into the seat of his car as he drove through the busy streets of Manhattan. The flood of people on the streets and the honking cars reminded her that any place they choose to go to on a Thursday night would be just as bustling.

She didn't want bustling.

When they pulled up to a set of lights she spoke.

"Can you just take me to my place?" she said sleepily closing her eyes, she didn't even have the energy to include a please.

She felt the tension radiating from him immediately without having to open her eyes, he'd be clicking his jaw and grasping the steering wheel right now and doing his best to bite his tongue. She let the tension simmer for a moment longer before she put him out of his misery.

"I have beer," she said quietly explaining that she wasn't backing out on their drink, just the venue. The tension started to dissipate.

He parked outside her building and followed her up. She could sense his uncertainty at going to her place over a crowded bar and noticed he was keeping his distance from her. She tossed her keys messily on the counter top and motioned to the fridge.

"Help yourself," she said neutrally as she made her way towards the bedroom, pulling off her badge and releasing her weapon. She tossed the contents into her top drawer and headed for the bathroom.

She realized she still hadn't been since lunchtime. She took her time, splashed some water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror for a quiet moment before she walked back into the living room.

He was sitting on her couch with an opened beer in his fist and another set on the coffee table waiting for her. She hesitated on her feet just momentarily before she took the space next to him and reached out for her beer.

"Thanks," she said softly.

She took a draw and despite not particularly craving alcohol as soon as it hit her lips it was suddenly very welcome.

"How's your new partner?" he started and she saw him picking at the corner of the label on his beer already.

Not you. She thought, but wouldn't say.

"He's fine," she sat forward on the couch, her forearms resting on her upper thighs, clasping the beer between her hands.

"He's buying you coffee already," he noted and she wondered if that was jealousy she'd registered in his tone or just a statement of fact.

She tried to divert the tension.

"Fin hasn't done a coffee run for you yet?" she tried not to let the smile hit her words. The thought of Fin and Elliot performing small niceties for each other just seemed out of place.

Elliot didn't answer so she drew the bottle back up to her lips and counted the moments of silence that ticked between them.

One, two, three.

Twenty eight.

It was her turn to pick at her label.

"What do you want to talk about El?" she said softly, not knowing how much more of this excruciating silence she could bear. The beer was making her sleepy.

She could tell her frank question had made him uneasy but she was losing her patience, he wanted this drink, he wanted this talk and she wanted sleep.

He put his beer down on the coffee table and mirrored her stance, hands clasped, forearms resting on his upper thighs and his head slightly bowed.

The moments of silence only increased and she was now concentrating on the slight rise and fall of his breathing. She felt badly then, he was struggling with this and she tried to think of something she could say to alleviate the tension. But she had nothing.

She was watching the side of his face when he dropped his head in his hands and she could do nothing but watch as he tried not to break in front of her.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled the words against his palms and it hit her hard, the apology, the regret, the pain.

She put her beer bottle down on the coffee table and her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, reassure him with her hands but she remained still.

"Don't," she whispered and she rubbed her hands up and down her thighs just so she wouldn't touch him.

"You must hate me." She heard the crack of emotion in his voice and she lost her internal struggle and reached out, circling her hand around his wrist.

"Elliot," her voice was firm. "Stop."

She tried to pull him then, move his hand away from his face but he wasn't budging so she eased up and just let it rest there.

"I fucked up," he said through gritted teeth still muffled by his palms and her heart sunk. He was taking responsibility for it and it killed her. She needed to defuse the situation and tell him that she could have stopped him, that it takes two to tango, that she wanted it just as badly as he did but she couldn't get her voice to work. Instead she just let her thumb slowly smooth over the skin of his wrist running back and forth over his pulse point.

"It shouldn't have happened," he expelled into his hands and she tried to ignore the pang of hurt from the regret he'd just expressed. "That way."

Her thumb stilled against his skin and her heart began thumping in her chest. After a few agonizing seconds she pulled her hand off him completely and clasped them in front of her.

She could see in her peripheral vision that he was moving his face out of his hands and rubbing it once over before he looked over at her. She couldn't look at him, she just couldn't, she kept her eyes trained on her clasped hands. She could tell he was after confirmation, agreement, something -but she was panicking.

"Look," she started and even she couldn't hide the tremble from her own voice. "After everything," she continued.

Sin, the partner switch, Silverman, Porter, the crash, the head injury, his bare ring finger.

"We both weren't thinking clearly," she whispered and without thinking her eye line fell to his left hand that was now resting on his thigh and lingered for a good moment. She saw him drop his focus to where she was looking and his hand wavered underneath her gaze.

"Seven months," he told her quietly and her eyes moved back to his considering his comment before she narrowed them slightly. She knew what he was doing and suddenly she didn't want to hear it, because then it would be real and not just a fantasy in her mind.

"I signed the papers-"

"What are you doing?" she cut him off suddenly and he stopped mid sentence taken aback. "Are you trying to justify it Elliot because it's not helping," she stood up then and walked towards the kitchen, all of a sudden her exhaustion had dissipated and she was wide-awake. It wasn't long before he followed her towards the kitchen and stood at the entrance.

"Olivia," his tone was slowly slipping from a state of upset to a stifled anger. "I'm trying to be honest."

She lost her cool.

"Well you know what I don't want to hear it, I don't want to hear how I was some post divorce conquest that you finally got out of your system-"

"Fuck Olivia, you really think you were some kind of rebound?" he stepped forward and he looked pissed off now.

"You said it yourself, it shouldn't have happened." She almost choked on the words.

"That way!" he reminded her in a yell.

The silence ticked over before she spoke.

"No," she corrected, thinking it through in her head. "You had it right the first time."

His eyes darted between hers and he considered her statement for a good moment. She watched as he pulled his lower lip between his before releasing it.

"Then you should have stopped me," he said through gritted teeth and she was furious that he was now trying to lay the blame on her.

The words ticked over in her head and dear God she knew she shouldn't say them but if she didn't go with anger right now she was going to break down in front of him.

"Well you didn't really give me a chance to, did you?" she stabbed back and immediately she knew she'd gone too far because his face had morphed into a state of pure distress.

What the hell was she doing?She was hurt and she was grasping at straws and now he looked completely devastated.

"I'm sorry," she said stepping forward before he had time to assess what she'd just implied. "That was… I could have stopped you," she clarified and she closed her eyes against the strain of it all. "But I didn't." She let the silent admission hang between them and he just watched her with an unreadable expression.

"You're not the only one who fucked up," she whispered drawing in a deep breath.

The silence was deafening and she was praying he still wasn't lingering on what she'd accused him of. He was chewing on his lower lip and she was just waiting for him to walk away now because this was all getting too much.

He took a step forward, one hand was clutching the counter for stability and he looked as if he were fighting a wild debate in his mind. When his gaze dropped from hers she knew he'd settled on a direction.

"I'm gonna go," he said quietly.

"Don't," she'd said it before she could stop herself and his eyes flicked quickly back to hers. She hated how needy she had sounded, she'd just let loose on him and now she was begging him to stay. Her eye line dropped to the tiles because she couldn't bare his penetrating gaze, she should have just let him go.

With her train of focus still on the tiles beneath their feet her breath caught when he grasped her upper arm and pulled her into an unexpected hug. His arms wrapped around her, one holding her between her shoulder blades, the other on her lower back and she let herself melt into the heat and comfort of his body. She closed her eyes against him, the embrace suddenly felt long overdue and she could tell he needed this just as much as she did. His cheek warmed hers and her arms had moved around to encircle his neck, his chest was pushing up against her breasts and she was trying to steady her breathing.

He'd hugged her before but this felt poles apart, there was no grace period or time limit they had to respect. There was not a soul around and it was up to them how long they'd let it last.

His hand slipped a little on her lower back and she felt his fingers brush the small strip of exposed skin where her sweater had ridden up and she held her breath. He didn't retract his hand but he didn't caress her either. She tried to commit the feel of his body and his warmth to her memory because at any moment this was going to end. He must have sensed her hesitation because his lips dipped suddenly into the crevice of her neck and she shivered against him. She could now feel his warm breath against her pulse point and it was making her dizzy. When he let his lips drag across the smooth column her lips parted and she tried to stay grounded on her feet.

"Liv," he whispered against her neck and her mouth was so dry she couldn't fathom forming words if she tried. She waited, her heartbeat slamming against his in anticipation of his next words.

"Tell me what to do," he whispered against her and she held her breath. He was asking her to decide this for them but it was all too raw, too complicated, too messy.

Go.

She didn't speak, she couldn't move so she just stood there and let him continue to hold her. His fingers started to lightly trail across the bare skin of her lower back and she felt the spread of goosebumps ignite across her skin. She was now painfully aware of her hip that was pressing into him, against him, between his legs.

Stay.

They were almost swaying now on their feet both feeling the ache of being up right in that moment. She wanted to tell him to stay, to take her to her bedroom, strip off their clothes and lie with her, all night.

It shouldn't have happened that way.

She was desperate to know how it should have happened.

But she felt it, his ache, his guilt, the resistance and the unrefined way they were clumsily trying to right this moment. She knew he wouldn't make the same mistake twice and she could hardly be angry at him for it.

His mouth made it's way up her neck until his lips nipped the base of her ear and she wanted to cry right then and there because she wasn't strong enough for this.

"I don't want to go," he whispered against her and it was barely audible but she knew by his tone of voice that he was leaving her tonight and that it was taking everything in him to do so.

She wanted him to hold just a little longer but it wouldn't be fair on either of them, he needed to walk away now or they'd both lose this internal struggle.

She started to move then, pull her arms from around his neck and move out of the embrace she'd become so accustomed to. She let her hands lightly dance over his shoulders and over his chest a little longer that she should have.

She wasn't looking at him in his eyes because she knew if she did, she'd surrender to him once more and they'd only wake up to unresolved resolutions. He was looking at her bowed head and he took a half step backwards to create some distance between them. She could feel his hesitation and his restraint slowly faltering and he needed to leave now.

"Go El," she whispered hoarsely and she was surprised she managed to get the words out.

She hadn't sounded angry, upset or disappointed.

A few moments ticked by and he still wasn't moving, almost as if he was waiting for her eye contact so he could be sure he was doing the right thing. Knowing he wouldn't leave until she did so she slowly lifted her eyes up and they locked with his.

She wanted to tell him that it was okay, that they'd figure this out, just not tonight but she didn't have to because he was reading it in her eyes.

He stepped forward and for a moment she thought he was going to cave but as his hand reached out and grasped her cheeks, pulling her forward and pressing his lips against her forehead she expelled the breath she was holding into his neck.

"Good night Liv," he whispered against her forehead and then he was gone.

TBC