Song: ...Fuck by Johnny Rain.

Chapter 11- Olivia

They were sitting on his sofa. Some late-night show was on, and the host was making jokes that were falling flat. She knew she should go. She'd come up with every reason to prolong her stay in his apartment. She told herself it was because she had to cancel on Trevor, so she might as well fill the evening. Besides, Elliot was hurting, and she didn't want to leave him alone. She should have called his kids. Six months ago that's what she would have done. She didn't know how she had gotten to the point of justifying making him pasta and sitting with her feet in his lap.

"I like hanging out with you; how come we've never done this before?" he asked as his fingers enclosed around her ankle. She knew she should pull her feet back; she didn't even know how they'd gotten there. She thinks he pulled them into his lap, maybe it was the pain medications. He always initiated their touching, and he was also the one to shut it down. She was so frustrated with him. His question hit her ears, and the bitter side of her brain wanted to say, you were married, dumbass. Then she remembered that he is married. The papers lurked somewhere in this apartment- the unsigned papers.

"I see enough of you at work," she said, settling on the easy answer. She had to hold some of her cards in her hand still.

"You don't see me like this though."

"Like what?" she questioned as she turned her shoulder into the back of the couch cushion and faced him, her legs being the only thing between them.

"Just," he began as he lifted his shoulders and then winced from moving his injured arm. She could tell the arm was bothering him more than he was letting on. "Just home not doing anything- no perp, no vic, just watching some shit on TV," he said as he gestured to the screen in front of them.

"You ever want to travel, El?" she asked as she tried to picture what he did on the weekends.

"I got to travel a lot with the marines," he said as his hand moved to her other ankle, one of his thumbs slipped under the hem of her work slacks.

"I mean just for fun."

"I've always wanted to see Italy," he said, and then he inhaled as he added, "I had this whole backpacking through Europe trip planned with my best mate. We were going to go before college started, you know after graduation, see the world and what not, but then I found out about Maureen and enlisted in the service instead," he said as his thumb pushed into the spot below the ball of her ankle. She processed his words and smiled at him, he'd done the right thing, he always did the right thing. Elliot, her partner Elliot, wanted to go to Italy. It made her want to make him pasta more often.

"I still got to see the world, just not how I thought," he concluded as he let his eyes flick to the ceiling. She didn't say anything, so he added, "I don't regret my kids in the slightest."

"You know I would never think that, El."

"I know; I just don't want them to think that. I miss them so much," he sighed.

"Why didn't you let me call them?"

"I just wanted to be with you," he let drop, and she felt her stomach twist.

"How'd you know I was going to come up?" she said through a forced laugh. She was frantically sifting through her arsenal of defenses, trying to pick the best one to give space but not push him away.

"I didn't; I was just hoping," he said as he returned her laugh. She stayed quiet, and he leaned forward on the sofa, taking her feet with him. Then, he lifted her legs and put them on the sofa as he began to stand.

"I'm getting groggy from these meds. I'm going to go to bed," he announced and then looked down at her.

"All right, I'll get going, and seriously think about taking the day off tomorrow."

"I didn't mean you had to leave," he said as he kept his eyes on her.

"You want me to stay here and watch David Letterman without you," she joked, but the nerves were about up to her throat.

"I want you to come to bed with me."

"Elliot…" she began, but he waved off her warning.

"I only want you to sleep next to me. I'm not asking for anything else," he said, and she watched him swallow. She wasn't sure she was hearing him right. Was he serious with this?

"Why?" she demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest. She knew why; they'd both had the best sleep of their lives two weeks ago.

"I'm in pain," he threw out with the quirk of his eyebrow and a glance to his sling. She couldn't believe how playful he was being, as if he weren't gambling with their pensions and sanity.

"Should I be insulted by that?"

"You make me feel better, Liv," he clarified, and she wanted to smack him for the way his eyes sparkled. Despite the awful day he'd had, his spirits were light.

"You're ridiculous," she said as she side stepped around him.

"So that's a yes?" he asked as he trailed behind her in the direction of his bedroom. She opened his bedroom door and couldn't believe she was taking the steps inside. She knew they were inching towards that line that would blow this all up the moment they touched it. There was no happy ending here, yet there she was eyeing his bed like it was all she wanted.

"Can I borrow something," she asked as she unclipped her badge and set it on one of his bedside tables. He nodded towards the dresser across the room. On top sat the clothes she wore two weeks ago. She'd folded them and set them there after she'd changed in a hurry to get to the crime scene. It startled her that he hadn't moved them. She assumed they would be washed and forgotten. Instead, they were sitting there like he had expected her to come back.

"I left your toothbrush under the sink too," he said as he watched her. She knew that her shock was showing. He'd kept the toothbrush. Her toothbrush. She couldn't believe how ridiculous this was, how ridiculous they were.

"Thanks," she said as she took the clothes and slipped into his bathroom. She opened the cabinet below the sink and retrieved her toothbrush. Among his other toiletries was a box of condoms. She'd seen them that morning two weeks ago, and it made her grind her teeth. Rebecca. She knew he wasn't using them on Kathy. The only thing I gamble with is birth control. It also irritated her that he'd tell her to go digging around in his cabinets when he knew those would be staring her in the face. She knew he was living up his somewhat-single life, but she didn't want to be reminded about it. She also didn't like that her toothbrush was sitting next to the box, like it had been thrown down with all the other things that shouldn't be in his life. She gulped down the thought as she used his toothpaste.

When she emerged from the bathroom in his clothes, she found him sitting shirtless on the edge of his bed as he messed with his alarm clock. She hoped he was turning it off and allowing himself the next day to recover.

"Where are your clothes?" she asked as her eyes fell to his boxer shorts.

"I was having trouble getting a t-shirt over this damn sling," he said as he set down the alarm clock and glanced down to his arm. She saw the t-shirt he had been trying to put on sitting crumpled on the bed. She moved towards him and reached for the t-shirt.

"Here, I'll help you," she said as she positioned herself between his legs and lifted the shirt to his head. She was standing close, too close, but he'd started this, and she figured that if he was going to gamble with their partnership then she should be able to as well. She could feel the insides of his thighs pressing into the outside of hers, and it was sending shivers down her spine. It was too much contact; she needed to back away. He winced as she tried to get the shirt over his arm.

"Should I take the sling off?" she asked as she tried to maneuver his arm.

"Is it okay if I just don't wear the t-shirt? I don't normally sleep with one," he said, and she instantly felt silly. Of course he didn't.

"I usually don't sleep in full sweats," she shot back.

"What do you sleep in, Liv?" he asked with a devilish look in his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Tell me," he whispered, and she felt a pang in her belly. She hated how that kept happening around him. She knew he had the restraint of a saint, but he was testing hers, and she was getting sick of it. She could only take so much.

"Just a tank top."

"Just a tank top?" he repeated.

"Just a tank top," she nodded, and his eyes darkened. She was standing so close she could almost feel his heart pounding. He'd walked them into this corner, so he was going to have to get them out. She wasn't going to save him. She was anticipating his play when his thumb latched onto the waistband of his heavy sweats.

"You don't have to wear these," he said as he gave the waistband a slight tug. "The heater's on; I don't want you to get too hot," he said as he lifted his eyes to where she stood above him. She was looking down at him, and she was almost shaking because she didn't know what move to make next. Neither of them had a clear intention with this, and she knew all too well that the road to hell was paved with good ones. She sighed as she said,

"Take them off for me."

His eyes connected with hers, and he inhaled.

He was going to put on the brakes, son of a bitch, she thought as she watched him contemplate his life before her eyes.

Then to either her horror or surprise, she watched him take the mental jump. He widened his legs on either side of her as his thumb yanked down the waistband. The sweats fell off with ease.

She felt the air in his bedroom hit her exposed skin. All that remained between her and his hand was her scrap of scarlet underwear.

"You wear those to work?" he asked as his eyes dipped to the silk covering her mound.

"What did you think I wore to work?"

"I tried not to think about it," he said with a pointed look to her face. His free hand touched her hip, and she felt her skin goosebump.

"I thought all you were asking for was sleep?" she reminded him, and he gave a small laugh as he let his fingers skate across the skin above her panty line.

"That is all I'm asking for," he clarified as he tugged down the bunched-up t-shirt. His shirt was long enough that it hit past her hips when it wasn't bunched around the hourglass of her waist.

"You're a tease," she called him out and in doing so probably admitted more than she wanted to.

"And you're my partner," he said as his eyes darted up to her hardened nipples. She'd left her bra lying on his bathroom floor. His words irritated her, since when was he the one that hurled that reminder at her?

She stepped out of his legs and rounded the bed to get in on the other side. The t-shirt barely covered her bare backside, and she could feel his eyes on her.

"So it's okay if I don't wear the t-shirt?" he asked as if that mattered now. She was about to crawl into his bed with nothing more than a thong between his hand and her ache.

"It's fine, Elliot," she said as she pulled back his comforter. Navy blue comforter. Elliot really was a simple man. It made her laugh to herself that his entire apartment was literally done in shades of blues and browns. She let her legs touch his sheets and her body meld with his mattress. His bed was big, and his sheets smelled like soap and aftershave. She let her head rest on the pillow, and if it weren't for the tension in her body, she'd be tired. Elliot flicked off his bedside lamp and clicked on the alarm.

"I set it for you," he said as she heard him settle onto his side of the bed.

"Did you set it with enough time for me to get back to my apartment before work?" she asked as she realized showing up to work in yesterday's clothes for the second time in two weeks probably wasn't a genius idea. She worked with detectives after all.

"I did."

"Thanks, partner," she seethed as her eyes focused on the popcorn of his ceiling.

"Are you going to make me ask?" his voice said into the still air of the bedroom.

"Ask what?"

"For you to come closer."

"I thought you were only asking for sleep," she said through tight lips. He was playing with her like a yoyo, and her body was going to betray her mind if he kept going at this rate.

"I sleep better when you're close," he said, and the words brought a smile to her face in the dark. She rolled towards the middle of the mattress, and he had already met her there. His free arm scooped under the weight of her body and rolled her into his side. She could only be halfway on his chest because of the sling. His bare chest. Her body felt like a live wire, and part of her was tempted to ask him to take the tension out of her body. Partnership be damned.

"Elliot, I want you to touch me."

"Elliot, I won't be able to sleep until you make me come."

"Elliot, I want you inside me."

"How does your arm feel?" she asked instead.

"It's alright," he sighed, and she could feel the way the breath pushed through his chest. Her cheek was resting on his peck, her hand over his belly. She watched as her hand lifted with each shallow breath he took.

"I'm glad you pulled through today," she said, and she felt him laugh. His hand was resting on the dip of her waist, but it was firmly in place and making no efforts to cross lines. Cross more lines.

"That's nice to hear."

"I wouldn't have wanted to break in a new partner," she said in a teasing tone.

"Glad I was able to spare you the inconvenience," he joked, but the reality that she could have lost him settled over her in an unexpected way. They were both such cowards. She took in a breath as she decided that she was sick of playing these games. She could have lost him for good, and they would have never known what this could've been. She didn't want to live like that anymore.

She lifted her head just a little and then turned so her mouth was against his chest. She kissed his peck, and then she shifted her body, so her hips were straddling him, her legs falling open around his pelvis. She felt him grow hard against her thigh.

"Liv," he groaned as she opened her mouth against his chest. She let her lips trail from his peck down his abdomen, she was careful of his arm, but her mouth was ruthless against his bare skin.

"Olivia…" he slurred her name, and she could hear the edge in his tone. She let her hands grasp below his armpits as her mouth divulged everything, she wanted him to know. She was getting dangerously close to the waistband of his boxers when he pulled her up by grasping her hair and neck.

"We are not doing this while I'm in a sling," he growled, and the darkness in his eyes startled her.

"I can work around it."

"Listen to me," he said as his fingers pressed into her neck, "I have not waited eight years for this to go down, for it to be when I can't even…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Let me have the control, El," she said as she rolled her hips against him. He sucked in a breath and tightened his hold on her as another warning.

"Like hell."

"Fuck you," she said as she held his glare.

"Oh you're trying, aren't you," he taunted her, and she was so mad at him.

"You think this is funny, Elliot?" she said, and he grinned at her question. He let his thumb land on her lip like it had six years ago, and he began to coax understanding from her.

"I think that when I enter you for the first time, I want the ink dried on my divorce papers, and I want my hands free to touch you wherever I want."