Thanks so much for the kind comments! I hope you enjoy this next chapter.


She has been home about forty five minutes when she hears it. A knock on her door. She knows it's him.

A part of her is pissed off that he has the balls to turn up on her doorstep like this when she had made it quite clear at the precinct she was done. The other part of her is finding shortness in her breath at the fact that he is quite possibly going to be waltzing through her doors in a matter of seconds.

She flashes back to the last time they were in her kitchen together and her heart starts to thrum. Her idle glass of red is perched on the coffee table and she thinks about removing it so he isn't tempted to take another crack at her drinking. But when the knocks escalate to pounding she gets off the couch and opens her door with a loud sigh.

She's on the brink of launching into a speech about the fact that she has neighbors and he can't be pounding on her door like this but when she sees him standing there something stops her.

Their eyes meet and she watches him take her in, his eye line moving over her casual wear until they slowly move back up to her face.

"Elliot, what are you doing here?" She crosses her cardigan over her chest. "I said everything I needed to at the station."

"I know," he agrees.

She furrows her brows and suddenly he is stepping forward in an attempt to enter her apartment. She goes to stop him but realizes she's just moved incredibly close to him in the process. They practically knock shoulders before he stills. He doesn't say anything, they're at a stalemate but the intimacy is throwing her off so she pulls back and takes a breath. She moves out of his way, more to obtain some distance from him as opposed to letting him in but he takes the opportunity and walks through to her kitchen.

He spots the wine glass on the coffee table immediately and she starts to feel her defences rising.

"You got another glass?" he asks casually, instead of taking a dig.

She pauses before she slowly shuts the door.

"Ah yeah," she says cautiously, unsure just where the angry version of her partner she had left at the precinct has gone.

She makes her way into the kitchen, grasping a glass from the cupboard and opening the bottle of wine.

She can feel his eyes on her when she pours and when she hands him the glass she is careful not to touch his hand in the process.

She watches him take a brief sip as if mustering the courage to confront her with something and that's when her skepticism starts to kick in.

"Look if you're here to get me to talk to Cragen-"

"I'm not," he cuts her off before setting the glass down on the counter with a light clink.

"Okay. " She folds her arms in front of her and rests her hip on the counter, her mind swarming with possibilities as to why he is here. "Then what?" Her tone can't help but come off defensive.

"Cragen was right," he whispers, his eyes trailing away from hers. "You were right," he speaks to the wall behind her, his tone borderline stoic. "We can't be partners – I get it, not the way things are going, the transfer makes sense," he sighs. "We're barely even friends."

She drops her arms then, allowing her defences to soften a little, that last part couldn't help but sting a little.

Barely even friends.

"I just want you to know that this wasn't what I wanted..or intended," he whispers, his words trailing off, unable to look her in the eye when he says it. "This was all me," he shakes his head in disbelief. "It was my stuff, I took it out on you - you didn't deserve it."

She takes a moment to let his words sink in, she's caught off guard, she wasn't expecting any part of this backpedalling and she isn't quite sure how to respond.

"I said and did some really shitty things Liv.." he whispers.

That's when she puts up her hands, unable to let him take the full blame.

"Look El," she starts, trying to ease the tension. "So did I okay," she tells him truthfully. "I mean, lets face it, we both acted like goddamn lunatics-"

"Are you gonna let me apologise Liv?" he steps forward then and she feels him close now, silencing her words immediately with his presence as he backs her up against the counter.

She takes a deep breath as he nears.

"Look I know I'm leaving," he whispers, his eyes moving between hers with intensity as his hand comes up and cups her cheek, lining up their faces. "But you gotta know how I.." he pauses for a few beats. "..how I feel."

Her heart thrums into over drive as his eyes penetrate hers. His accent had been thick, mirroring the grip he has on her cheek. Her fingers curl over the lip of the counter as her lower back presses against marble.

"I wanna kiss you," he breathes out in a rush his eyes dipping down to her lips. "And not because we're pissed at each other." His eye line moves back up to hers and he's still eying her intently, daring her to defy this – to defy them. Her mouth parts, her eyes searching his and it's all she can do. He is waiting for a verbal response but all she can give him is a compliant look in her eyes.

He's leaning in now, she feels his body first as his hips press against hers, then his forehead bumping hers lightly as his lips skim across hers. Moments from pressing his mouth against hers she hears it.

A ring tone, sounding through the kitchen. Their mouths brush regardless and she holds her breath until she finally feels him back up slowly.

She looks over at the interruption, she expects it to be his cell phone yet again but it's hers that is lighting up to her right. She doesn't move, she's still stuck on his lips and how close she had been to tasting him again. She can tell he's shitty at the interruption as he reluctantly releases the hold he has on her waist. He motions for her to get it, knowing it could be a work call but she still doesn't move, her fingers still pressing into marble, her eyes still glued to her phone.

When she doesn't budge he moves over to the sounding device himself but one look at the incoming caller and she regrets it instantly. She watches his demeanor change and when he hands her the phone her suspicions are confirmed.

Adam.

She closes her eyes, declining the call, silencing the phone and letting it go to voicemail. She tosses the phone to the side and they're enveloped in silence once more. She knows what he must be thinking. Adam's in her phone already. She had barely been home five seconds and she's already communicated with him. It was just a text she thinks. She sent it to him in the heat of the moment after opening that bottle of red. She doesn't even know why she did it, perhaps it was her way of dealing with the transfer..

He takes a step back, a full pace away from her but it might as well have been a football field.

"Say it," she says tiredly, her teeth gnawing into her lower lip as she watches him.

"Say what?" he responds with a tinge of annoyance as if he hadn't been storing up pentup accusations ready to throw her way.

"Whatever it is you wanna say - just say it," she says heatedly and she finds it unbelievable that they can go from intimate to explosive in a matter of seconds.

"Fine, I don't want you seeing him - not now, not when I'm gone."

The outburst came out with no filter. She thinks she should find this kind of demand absurd and out of line - because it is, but something about the protective way that he said it makes his territorial behavior feel oddly welcome.

She waits a few moments, trying to figure out how she is supposed to respond to this when suddenly she finds compliance falling from her lips.

"Okay," she whispers with a neutral expression and it takes him back.

His eyes flit between hers as he gauges her response, he wasn't expecting that. And nor was she.

"Okay?" he questions as if he needs to check he heard her correctly.

She nods resting against the counter once more trying to steady her heartbeat long enough to catch her breath, she has no idea where this is going to take them but it feels like she just waved a white flag in front of him.

When he doesn't look entirely convinced she sighs, moving towards her phone, picking it up, scrolling through her contacts, finding Adam's number and deleting it. When she is done she places the phone back on the counter and their eyes meet once more.

A few seconds pass until suddenly it becomes too much for her.

"Look El," she finally breaks the tension and moves her eyeline away from his intense stare. "I can talk to Cragen," she tells him, trying desperately to change the subject. "This is ridiculous, I mean we can be in the same room together right? A partner switch is enough - the transfer isn't necessary."

Her eyes finally make their way back to his and a few moments tick between them, her heartbeat is thudding at her concern that he isn't going to let her get away with changing the subject that easily.

Reluctantly, he does.

"I think he's pretty firm on it," he tells her quietly, his eyeline still sitting squarely on hers.

She breathes out a sigh of relief that the conversation has been changed but at the same time a pang of accountability hits her in the chest at what he had just expressed.

Six to nine months.

Elliot sucks in a breath before continuing.

"Look, it's fine, the team in Philly need a leg up on a serial rapist anyway, one of their detectives just retired, so the timing works," he explains, clearing his throat. "I guess I'll be that stopgap while they're hiring and then I'll be back in the new year," he finishes, scratching his jaw.

The New Year.

Olivia's eyebrows furrow as disappointment immediately swarms her chest at just how real this feels, she hadn't realized he had put this much behind it.

Philadelphia.

She hadn't even asked him where. She hadn't wanted to know.

"Okay," she says her tone somewhat deflated, unsure exactly where this leaves them. "Have you spoken to Kathy yet? The kids?" She asks, unable to meet his eyes when she asks it.

"Not yet," he whispers.

Her eyes move up to his, a little surprised.

"Well you should," she says with a little too much judgment.

His eyes narrow at her in response. "I'm talking to you first," he tells her pointedly and the point he is making is clear.

He came to her first.

The room stills at that notion, he hasn't moved a step but she feels his intensity back in full force and it's suddenly crowding her space. She doesn't know what to do with this information, what to do with him. Moments ago he was about to press his mouth against hers because he wanted to, not because of some petty, spiteful battle between them and now he's explaining how his life is going to be without her - in a completely different state.

"Elliot," she breathes out, the whole situation becoming too much. "I don't know what you want me to say to all of this. What's done is done right?" She sighs lifting up her hands in defeat. "I guess I'll see you in January."

She goes to move then, attempting to leave the kitchen but he is stopping her in seconds, holding her in place, giving her nowhere to go.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers down at her face as his hands gently clutch her upper arms, stilling her in front of him.

She feels the heat from his body immediately, his fingers aren't rough like before but this gentle featherlike touch feels even more overbearing. He slides his hands up her shoulders until he's cupping the back of her neck, goosebumps breaking out across her skin as he slowly draws her closer to his body.

His eyes move between hers. "Liv," he prods. "Tell me what you want."

Her heart is still hammering in her chest as she notices the deeper shade of blue his eyes have taken on. Her mouth parts as she tries to steady her nerves when she says it.

"I think you've got a pretty good idea," her voice drags as her eyes fall unmistakably down to his lips.

He doesn't wait then, he is leaning in, his mouth pressing urgently against hers as her backside meets with the countertop.

Her stomach drops when she feels the entire expanse of his body pressing against hers as his hands slide up her torso and rake through the back of her hair.

And it was in that moment that it hits her, that after tonight, she isn't going to let him go.