Olivia's apartment

Olivia was avoiding Elliot's mortified gaze as she told him almost everything about what happened, avoiding mentioning Jeff as much as possible. When she was done talking, she felt tired, empty, and her mouth was dry. How long did it take for her to relate more than two months of undercover operations?

Elliot remained silent for a moment, which gave Olivia a little rest. "What are you holding back?" he finally asked.

"Nothing" she said, still avoiding his glare. But she couldn't lie to him. She knew better. She leaned forward to grab her glass on the coffee table and winced.

"I know you're lying Liv. This all looks quite easy to me. I mean, not the big final obviously. But before-"

"Easy?" Oliva spat with a killing glare. "I've been undercover for two months Elliot. At the other end of the country. Living with strangers, doing things that…" she shook her head and jumped of the couch. "It was everything but easy!"

"What kind of things?" Elliot asked.

"I told you already!" Olivia was losing her patience. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. She walked to her fridge and filled her glass. "The sittings, the protests, and the final. If you think it's just about holding placards and wait you're wrong!" she added resting against the counter.

"I know you've not been sitting around and twiddling your thumbs all along. What I don't get is how you managed to end up in this so-called elite team that almost got you killed."

"I don't know, it just happened. Persephone James had quite a reputation. And I proved myself over the weeks" Olivia said, hunted by the last proof of loyalty she had to give Jeff. But Elliot was staring at her, not buying her shit. Olivia rolled her eyes in frustration. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"The truth" he simply replied. Olivia wasn't ready for that. She shivered and sighed heavily, remembering the feeling of Jeff's body over her. At some point, she squeezed the glass she was still holding so hard that it broke under the pressure, spilling whiskey on the floor. Olivia looked at the crushed glass on her hand and started laughing hysterically.

"You're ok?" Elliot asked as he got up and removed the remaining pieces in Olivia's hand.

"Sure" she answered, still laughing. "This is all perfect. Brilliant!" She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her injured hand.

"You're bleeding Liv" Elliot admonished her as he picked up the pieces on the floor. "What's so funny about it?"

Olivia started to pace in her kitchen. "My right hand was about the only unharmed part of my body as you could see. Now I'm definitely useless"

"Careful". Without a warning, Elliot picked her up by the waist and sat her on the counter. Olivia let him and Elliot stood there, a little longer than necessary. Then without allowing them to do so, his hands traveled a little downward and settled on her hips. This was new territory. This was dangerous. This was wrong. But this felt right. Elliot opened and closed his mouth a couple times, like he was trying to say something, but no word left his mouth. He took a step forward, reducing the already way too small distance between them and Olivia slightly spread her legs, allowing him closer. Elliot felt Olivia's knees brushing against his hips and blinked, surprised. Olivia froze at the contact, and stared at him, confused. What is he doing? What are we doing?

Elliot abruptly broke away and went back to his task. "Where is the mop?" he asked, killing their moment.

"Wh-what?" Olivia stuttered, jolting out of her reverie.

"The mop" Elliot repeated. "You spilled whiskey everywhere".

"Yeah, and whose fault is it?" Olivia spat, now just as annoyed as five minutes ago.

Elliot rolled his eyes. Ever since Olivia opened the door, she had been nothing but defiant. He finally remembered why the only thing they did before she left was fighting. "The mop" he asked again, not hiding his annoyance.

"The closet in the entrance". Olivia watched Elliot as he cleaned her floor, an upset look on his face. Ever since she let him in, he had been nothing but inquisitive towards her. She finally remembered why the only thing they did before she left was fighting. Minutes passed in a total silence, and when the floor was finally dry, Elliot picked her up again and gently put her on her feet. "Thanks".

"Don't mention it". Elliot unwrapped her hand and checked on her cut. "It's not deep. It already stopped bleeding. Does it hurt?"

"No, it's fine".

"Do you have antiseptics?"

"Yeah, in the bathroom. But I'm fine, you don't have to-" She didn't have time to finish her sentence that Elliot was already snooping in her bathroom, looking for antiseptics. When he came back with the bottle and cotton, Olivia was on her couch, hand extended waiting for him.

"Here you go". Elliot gently cleaned the dry blood and Olivia winced as she felt the sting in her cut. Elliot looked closely at her as she was zoning out. The fire that ignited her eyes a few minutes ago was gone. Dark circles were digging her pale and hollowed face and once again, Elliot was struck by how thin she was.

"You look tired. When was the last time you slept? Or ate?"

"Elliot, don't start again" Olivia pleaded.

"Ok, ok" Elliot raised his hands in surrender and sat next to her.

Olivia sight heavily and ran her hand through her curly hair. "I'm so tired… What time is it?"

"Seven" Elliot answered after checking his cellphone. He frowned as he noticed 4 missing calls from Kathy. When he felt weight on his shoulder, he turned his head toward Olivia and saw she was asleep. He smiled, leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. God, how he had missed her.