A/N: Ah! It's been too long! I'm sorry but this chapter totally kicked my butt. I'm still not happy with it :( For some reason it seemed so much smoother in my mind and I couldn't find a place for the chapter to stop, & I just dont know... Normally, I would spend more time on it but I don't like going this long with out updating so here it goes. Still unedited by a fresh pair of eyes so I'm sure - especially in the last part - there will be some grammatical errors so I'm sorry!

P.S. (pre-script haha) I was shocked by the responce the last chapter got out of you guys! & I especially need your reviews now that I'm so unsure about how this chapter worked out. So I need you all to tell me! REVIEW! please. haha

Disclaimer: Elliot + Olivia Hot Steamy Make-Out Scene, right? From what I see, Dick Wolf disagrees. So I guess I don't own them... shucks.

Chapter 5: Something Like Emotion

Waiting as my heart drops

Benson Residence

Saturday, 7:10 am

In her vague haze of sleep, Olivia only just barely registered the heavy form of endless energy, jumping and falling on her bed. Distantly, she could hear the sounds of something resembling a "Wake up! Wake up!" in between bounces. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, not recognizing the weight causing the fluctuation in her mattress. Lifting her head up, she squinted while her eyes adjusted to the light, trying to focus on what the disturbance was. All she was met with, was a pair of bright hazel eyes, staring into her own.

"Hi."

One would think that after staying up until 10 o'clock at night, a six year old would easily be able to sleep in until, at least, 8 the next morning. But no. No, indeed. Not this six year old. Not this child with her delicate, golden locks and footy pajamas. No. She liked not sleeping. Had Olivia actually been given the chance to wake up first, she might have seen that they'd had the chance to get plenty of sleep, but sadly, that was not the case.

"Hey honey," came her drowsy voice in response, still not fully comprehending Heather-Anne's undying energy, or what she was doing jumping on her bed so early in the morning.

Collapsing back onto her pillow, she stretched out her legs momentarily before looking over, just in time, to see Heather's small body plummet into Mark's stomach. He let out a long "Umph" and she giggled away as if he were the funniest thing she'd ever seen.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice audibly strained from the blow he'd just received to the gut.

"It's time to get up!" She exclaimed sweetly, picking herself back up and making it difficult to be even a little agitated.

But before she got the chance to resume her newly found pleasure of leaping around the bed, he pulled her back down and entered them both into a severe tickle war. Squirming about, she finally asked him to stop and he naturally complied.

"Why don't you go get dressed and brush your teeth," he suggested and she willingly acquiesced, leaving the room to go find her overnight bag.

Just as she exited the room, he fell back into his original sleeping position and looked over to meet Olivia's sleepy gaze. "Morning," she said with a lazy smile, shifting herself closer to him.

"Morning," he returned, encircling her waist and kissing her on the forehead. Then turning onto his stomach, with a tired groan, he let his body go limp as he exhaled face down into the pillow. She laughed at their sloth-like inability to wake when he shifted his head sideways to look at her. He looked slightly adorable with his cheek smushed onto her pillow and his eyelids drooping slightly. A small smile crept onto her face as he looked at her, and his eyes began to narrow. "Now why is it that you," he said, stressing his words in a lethargic tone. "Get to wake up beautiful every morning, while the rest of the world gets to go on looking like crap?"

Her face did not change expression but became somewhat methodical as she stared into his eyes. "I don't think I can be with you anymore," she said after a few seconds, matter-of-factly. Still lying on her pillow, he raised an eyebrow, causing his face to contort even more and she could hardly keep herself from laughing at his bewildered countenance. "You lie too well."

"You know, you call yourself a detective but I'm starting to think that your detecting skills aren't so accurate after all," he deadpanned as she rolled her eyes. "Speaking of which," he said more seriously and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "What time do you need me to drive you in to-"

"Oh shit…" she hissed, suddenly wide awake as she grabbed her watch from the night stand, pushing the hair from her face. She heaved a sigh of relief when she realized that she hadn't overslept and still had about 30 minutes to get ready for work. "Um, we should probably leave by quarter till 8," she muttered and he nodded in agreement before sitting up as well.

"Do you know when you're getting off?" he asked, leaning his forehead into the side of her neck and kissing her exposed shoulder.

"Well, the best lead in our case right now has masterfully disappeared so we're doing a stakeout at his apartment…" she said as thoughts of spending the day locked with Elliot in a car entered her mind. "But if he doesn't show up by 3, then Munch and Fin will probably take over," she explained. "But whenever we do get him, we'll have to bring him in for questioning so…I really don't know."

"Alright, whenever you get off, just give me a call. Maybe you can stop by afterwards or something," he suggested.

"Sounds good," she agreed with a yawn.

16th Precinct: Squad Room

Saturday, 7:59 am

Olivia was in a particularly good mood this morning as she waltzed into the squad room, coffee in hand for everyone – even Elliot, which truthfully, was more for the sake of being polite than out of the forgiving kindness in her heart, but who cared?

Things had been a little tense around the precinct lately – not just with her and Elliot – but with the whole team. It had been a while since they were all civilly genial with each other, not like in the old days when everyone would go out for drinks after a rough day, or when considerable measures were taken to ensure that everyone was getting on alright when they dealt with a particularly demanding case. It just wasn't the same. Over the years they'd grown close, more like friends than co-workers, and lately… she'd missed her friends.

"Morning," she greeted them affably with a smile, setting her things down. Getting Elliot out of the way first, she set the cup of steaming, dark liquid on his desk. She met his gaze momentarily, registering the shock in his intense blue eyes, as he muttered a "Thanks." Giving him a small smile and a nod in response, she then moved on to Munch and Fin, leaving traces of questions unanswered to linger in his mind.

"Well, Surprise Surprise," Munch commented on her unexpected benevolence, accepting the gift with a stunned expression as well. "You're in an awfully good mood this morning, I see."

"You finally get a new partner or somethin'?" Fin asked her sarcastically, glancing over at Elliot who fixed him with a glare and a mock smile of pleasantry. She decided against answering his question, taking note that her partner wasn't exactly humored by the dig.

"Since when am I not allowed to bring in coffee for everyone just because?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Fin. She knew it had been a while but it wasn't as if she'd solved world hunger.

"Just nice to see ya smilin' Liv," he told her honestly. It was nice to see everyone in a good mood this morning. Everyone had been so uptight lately that sometimes he actually forgot that he generally liked the people he worked with.

"You might want to take notes over there Tutuola," Munch said, pointing his yellow pencil at Olivia while Fin pursed his lips with a repugnant air.

"Man, you the last one to be talkin…"

They all bantered back and forth for a few minutes before falling back into their previous activities of preparing for the day. Elliot sat quietly at his desk now in a pensive state of mind as he watched her sit down. She did not look his way, but merely toyed with the computer – turning it on, waiting for it to load, etc, her thoughts clearly miles away from him. He gave an emotional hark of irony at the thought since his thoughts wouldn't leave her alone, not for a moment.

All he could concentrate on was her 'good mood' this morning. The way she came walking into the precinct, bringing everyone coffee, readily chatting…Since when did that happen? Not that he minded. On a certain level, he was even glad. It was just the constant question of why she was so happy that bothered him. He pondered for a moment, keeping his eyes focused on her engrossed face before he mentally scoffed at his own question. He knew why she was all smiles today, and it sure had nothing to do with him. It was undoubtedly this other man in her life, this Mark – he would never get used to that name.

Finally taking note that he was clenching his jaw with tremendous force, he relaxed and shifted his focus downward at the empty desk before him. What were they doing today?

"Are you ready?" he heard her voice tear him from his blank thoughts, and it instantly flooded back to him. Angela Simmons. Rape Homicide. Dancer. Ex boyfriend. Brendan Harris. Missing. Stakeout. Okay.

Sedan

Saturday, 11:20 am

They had been sitting across the street from Brendan Harris' apartment building for a few hours now and he still hadn't shown up. She'd already gone through her hot Styrofoam cup of tea – against her better judgment and the advice of her partner to pace herself. When he saw that she'd finished so quickly, he teased her, knowing that she'd have to go to the restroom soon and they still had 4 hours to go. It was among the several conversations they'd had since the waiting began, including relevant topics concerning the case and vague predictions about the weather. But now, they sat in a semi-comfortable silence as the gray clouds above began to grow dark, masking the city in an ominous cloak and making it seem much later than it actually was. Olivia sighed, hoping that the rain would hold off because she knew that the second it unleashed itself, she'd have to go to the bathroom.

Elliot's eyes scanned the area for what must have been the hundredth time, and he still wasn't taking it in. He was glad that he and Olivia had had a seemingly decent morning in each other's company, although now that the conversation had ceased, his thoughts began gnawing away at him once more.

He wanted things to be okay with them, and even though they seemed to be, he wouldn't allow himself to think that they were back to being 'alright' so quickly, without actually hearing it from her mouth. This could just as easily be her way of getting through the day without emotionally exploding her harbored rage all over him. He hoped that it wasn't, he hoped to God that his condescending remarks from yesterday were forgiven… But how could he know? He wasn't about to ask her. No, that would probably only make things worse. All he could do at the moment was watch for Brendan, and hope that she had truly forgiven him, even if he didn't deserve it.

"You were right, you know," he suddenly heard her quiet voice. Looking over, he saw that she'd been watching him, and even though he had no idea what she was talking about, he sensed that she knew exactly what he'd been thinking.

"About what?" he asked genuinely confused, both by her statement and her unforeseen sincerity.

She fought to keep her eyes locked with his, knowing that this wasn't going to be easy to admit, especially to her beautiful, arrogant, ass-hole of a partner. "About what you said yesterday," she said in the same gentle, honest tone, before finally breaking his gaze and staring down at her hands. She smiled slightly and tilted her head to look at him again. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you."

The sedan was silent. He couldn't fully process what she was saying to him. She was sorry? Sorry that she didn't tell him. She was sorry that she didn't tell him about Mark. Was she admitting it? Was she saying that she really had tried to hide it? Did that mean that she really didn't trust him? But she was sorry… And he was right? Right for being a jack-ass? Nothing made sense. Did this mean that she understood how much he cared about her? How much he wanted to stay in her life? How much he wanted to be there for her? Several emotions began to assault his senses – guilt, relief, respect, disappointment, hurt, anger, joy. He didn't know how he was going to string a coherent thought together, let alone a sentence.

Blankly, he stared at an insignificant spot on her knee, nodding his head distantly, taking it all in, unaware of the appropriate thing to say. And while his other thoughts collected, preparing to go through analyzation, he let the one question that he'd wanted to know for so long, surface. "How long?"

He let himself drift back to present as he moved his unfocused view of her knee, back to her eyes. At first, he wasn't sure if she would understand his question, but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he had a feeling that she knew exactly what he wanted to know.

"Um," came her unsteady voice, slightly shaking when she stared back at her hands. For some reason they were oddly fascinating at the moment. "About…4 months," she finally said, more firmly this time.

His eyes widened somewhat as he retreated, once more into his distant thoughts, and leaned back into his seat. 4 months? 4 months she'd been seeing someone… and he hadn't known. He'd had no idea. He hadn't noticed anything, she'd given him no indication. How in the world had he missed something like that? Had she ever planned on telling him? Would he have ever known if he hadn't stopped by on Thursday? Would she be telling him now? Would they still be having this conversation? Did he even know her at all? He never saw it coming… all that time.

She finally tore herself away from her hands and looked at him. To an extent, she was surprised, surprised by the hurt in his eyes – she could feel it even if he wasn't looking at her. She didn't understand how she could have caused this, how her actions had affected him in this way. After all, he was the one with the wife and 5 children. He was the one who left her emotionally drained and bemused every time. No, she didn't understand it, but she recognized it. It was the same hurt, the same disappointment, that she'd experienced the day he told her Kathy was pregnant. It wasn't something you couldn't pinpoint, let alone understand, merely an overwhelming feeling of disillusion.

"Why?" was the only thing he could think to ask her, and it came out low, almost in a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. The muscles in his face were tensed and his eyes were narrowed slightly. He didn't want her to see the emotions swimming through him right now, he didn't want to convey how much he cared when she clearly didn't…

"I didn't know how," she told him honestly.

He bore into her eyes with his own for a very long time, looking for something, something that would allow all of this to make sense for him. He could feel her large brown eyes pleading with him, knowing that if he just dug below the surface, he would understand. She was genuine, that much he knew, and therefore, if the right time had allowed itself – she would have told him, he knew she would've. At least that's what her eyes were telling him, and in such a state of mental chaos, all he could do was believe her.

Nodding slowly once more, in comprehension, he allowed a small, semi-forced smile to creep across his features, hoping that she wouldn't see straight through him. "As long as you're happy, Liv, that's all I care about…"

Her lip tried to curve slightly but it was more like a twitch as she let herself look away. "Thanks…" she said quietly, unsure of where any of this left them.

"But you could've mentioned something," he said told her teasingly with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He couldn't let himself dwell on this, not anymore, and certainly not right now. What better way to get things back to normal that to taunt her?

She looked over, only to be met with his playful grin that contagiously infected her smile as well, and was filled with relief. Sighing, she relaxed a little, hoping that this was the end of it – at least for a little while. "So, we're okay then?"

"Yeah," he said nodding. That was truly all he cared about – that they were okay, that at the end of the day, she trusted him to be there for her and vice versa. "So, when do I get to meet this guy anyway?"

She laughed a little, thinking that that probably wasn't the best idea. Elliot was incredibly protective – obviously, and she'd never really introduced him to anyone she was seeing before. How could she be sure that he wouldn't do anything stupid? But then again, trying to keep Mark away from him would only make things worse…She was getting the feeling either way, she was going to lose out, and what fun was playing a game where you know you can't win? Not that this was a game, but it was the same idea…

"Uh, well, whenever you want to I guess," she said.

"Oh, so that's how you're going to play it, huh?" he said scanning over the area again. Nothing had changed. And there was still no sign of him.

She blushed slightly, knowing that she'd been caught trying to tip toe around it, but seriously, how could you blame her? Sighing, she surrendered. "Sometimes, he picks me up after work."

"Oh good," he said teasingly, and glanced over at her grimacing face. "It'll be fine," he assured her all too eagerly. "Just need to let this guy know what he's coming up against when he screws up."

"If," she corrected him, knowing what he was trying to do and redirected her gaze out of the window, looking for anyone that matched Harris' description. "But I doubt it," she mumbled grumpily under her breath so he wouldn't hear her, and continued to search the surrounding area.

"Hm," he let out a smug, muffled laugh to himself. Correcting her correction would undoubtedly bring on trouble, and he was in no position to start that again, so he kept quiet. No, he thought to himself, Defiantly 'when.'

Knowles Residence

Saturday, 8:23 pm

The dark room, filled with the ghostly, blue glow of the television set, created a laid back atmosphere as the three watched Heather-Anne's new favorite animated film. On the couch, Olivia was seated comfortably in Mark's embrace, leaning her back against his chest while aimlessly stroking his leg. Feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing shift into sync with her own, she'd never felt more at home – other than at the precinct, of course. Looking over, she saw that Heather-Anne was attentively staring, wide eyed at the luminescent box in a squashy bean bag chair with Peter devotedly by her side.

She took a glance at her watch and knew that she would have to leave soon for her second shift of the stake-out, which, like a looming cloud, hung over her absolute contentment. Having no desire to move whatsoever, she wished that the guy would just show up already. But even then, she'd have to go in for questioning so either way, she'd have to get up eventually.

"Thirsty?" he asked her softly, not wanting to disturb Heather's movie. "Dan sent over a new bottle of wine this morning if you're interested..."

She thought for a moment, taking note of the uneasy feeling curling throughout her abdomen and the hazy fog of fatigue already weighing on the back of her eyelids. Even though she was more comfortable than she had been in days, she still wasn't feeling entirely well, and combined with the fact that she'd have to be completely alert for the next six and a half hours, she knew if she consumed anything more - especially alcohol - it could jeopardize her ability to do the job. And even though it took more than a glass of wine to intoxicate her, she didn't need Elliot to think that she couldn't handle herself, not when things were just getting back to normal - again.

"I'm alright," she told him. "Thanks though."

He nodded, rubbing her shoulder a little before getting up and heading to the kitchen. He looked back over his shoulder, seeing Olivia's head slump into the cushions of the couch while Heather-Anne sank farther into her squashy chair. If someone had been witness, they would have noticed that it suddenly became impossible to distinguish the reflective glint of the TV from the illuminating glow in his eyes, undoubtedly a direct result of the imminent happiness that clung to his heart. It was a rarity when he had both his daughter and his girlfriend together for the night, and the last two days made him think that even after everything, he might just be okay. Although he and his, now ex, wife hadn't been in each other's good graces for years, it still tore him apart when she asked for the divorce. He cared about his daughter more than anything on the face of the earth and just knew that she was too young, and wouldn't understand. The thought of her growing up in a broken home, confused about why he and her mother didn't live together in the same house anymore, sometimes deprived him of sleep at night. Olivia helped to ease his distress in ways he never thought possible, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Taking a glass from one of the cupboards, he filled it with water at the sink and began walking back into the living room when the doorbell rang. He saw Olivia lift her heavy head, shifting from her position slightly, and give him a questioning look as if to ask if he'd been expecting someone. He returned her puzzled look with one of his own, and turned on the light momentarily so that he could see, muttering a few choice words about the hour and having to answer the door at this time of night under his breath.

When he approached the entrance to his apartment, merely a few, feet away from where he'd just been comfortably sitting minutes ago, he looked through the fish-eye viewer and was almost positive that his blood temperature dropped a few degrees. He could practically feel his stomach knotting itself five times over, and wondered how he was supposed to handle this situation. What the hell was she even doing here?! Normally he was tolerant when she stopped by, but he just wasn't in the mood to deal with her, not tonight when everything had been so perfect, so relaxed. And along with the fact that she hadn't called, her presence only ticked him off more. Taking a step back so that he could collect himself, while sliding a hand roughly down the side of his face, he wondered what she could possibly want at this hour. Shaking his head, he opened the door just enough so he could see her on the other side – a slender, blonde haired woman, with a holier-than-thou expression permanently plastered across her face.

"Jackie, what're you doing here?" he asked in a hushed tone of voice, attempting to mask the conversation from Olivia and Heather-Anne, although failing to mask his irritation concerning her unexpected visit.

She furrowed her brow and stepped back in a defensive manner. "I came to pick up my daughter," she said ridiculously as if he were asking her why 2 + 2 4.

He studied her expression and couldn't believe it. She made him feel like he was completely insane and yet she was the one who showed up at 8:30 at night, no phone call, nothing, and just expected him to give her Heather-Anne. She was supposed to be out of town anyway! Not that she'd even bothered to tell him when she was getting back, or where she was going. "I thought you were out of town?"

"I was," she said with a scowl at his need to make things difficult. "And now I'm not. Where is she?" she asked, suspiciously trying to see around the door that was half closed.

With a sigh, he grabbed the side of the doorframe, internally calming himself down. He needed to just take a deep breath and realize that the only way to deal with her hostility was to talk to her rationally. Hopefully, she would get an idea of how unreasonable she sounded, coming to his place and demanding their daughter when she should have been in bed already. "Listen," he said calmly. "It's almost 8:30 and Heather's half asleep anyway, why don't you just let me drop her off at your place in the morning?"

"No," she said, shocked that he would even suggest such an inconvenient plan of action. "You don't think I have things to do tomorrow morning? No, I came to pick her up now, so I'm taking her home now." Her voice was starting to rise in volume and he just knew that this wasn't going to end peacefully.

"Jackie-" he began in protest, but she was already pushing past him and inside.

As she gave the apartment a quick onceover, her eyes immediately landed on Olivia who was now sitting at the end of the couch, vigilantly after hearing snippets of the conversation. Even with the Marks attempt to shield them from the sudden visitor, she could easily tell by the way he was speaking, that it was his ex wife. God only knew how awkward the situation could get now.

And what could she do about it? Jackie was obviously upset, she could hear her practically screaming in the hallway, and now she was just standing there, looking her over. Normally Olivia wouldn't have just sat there, she would've at least gotten up, perhaps introduced herself, but the look she was receiving from her now, told her that that was not a sound thing to do. In fact, it made her so uncomfortable that she could feel herself grow even hotter than she'd been. God, if looks could only say 'oh-look-who-just-walked-off-the-corner!' Averting her eyes, she was practically squirming beneath her scrutinizing stare.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a laugh, turning around to face her ex husband. "So this is why you didn't want me to pick her up tonight?" Motioning towards the uneasy brunette and then crossing her arms, she wore a satisfied smile infused with spite, as if she knew exactly what his game was. Mark looked at Olivia and then back to Jackie, completely befuddled. Along with his confusion, he was also wading through a pool of guilt – he never wanted to see Olivia put in this position and he couldn't help but feel completely at fault. He didn't have long to soak in his remorse though, because as soon as Jackie saw his puzzled expression, her face grew heated with anger. "You're already shacked up with some tramp and you're exposing my daughter to that kind of trash?!" she screamed as his eyes went wide. "Is that it Mark, huh? Didn't want me to find out that you were fucking your little bitch while Heather was here?"

Mark stood wide-eyed for a minute, half frozen over in shock while his fury fumed and blazed beneath his skin. He'd rarely heard her talk like that in the presence of others, and he could hardly believe the words he'd just heard fly out of her mouth – in front of Heather-Anne, in front of Olivia. Even through his overwhelming fury with Jackie, he could feel his bones cracking under the weight of his guilt now. He should have stopped it. He should have stopped her. The matter of how he should have done it would be resolved later, all he knew was that she didn't deserve that.

Looking at his ex, he had to step back. His knuckles began turning white as gripped the side of a nearby table, almost as if in some vain attempt to transfer his insular rage into its smooth finish. His head was throbbing now, and he could feel himself becoming dangerously close to boiling over with every passing second. But no matter how incredulously offensive she was being, he couldn't loose it, not now, not in front of them.

"Get out."

"Not until I have Heather-Anne."

He flung the door open with incredible force and looked down at the floor, using every ounce of self-control he contained in order to restrain himself from throwing his fist into the wall. "I'll drop her off in the morning, leave."

"Mommy!" Suddenly, the small six year old who had previously been so engrossed in her film, was now aware that her mother was present and went instantly running to her side, oblivious to the ruthless tension floating through the room, not to mention all hell breaking loose.

"Hey sweetie," she said, petting her hair as Heather-Anne clung to her thigh, and then refocused her attention upon the irate man before her. "I'm taking her home Mark, and next time I drop her off, if I drop her off, you sure as hell better not have any of your little sluts hanging around because I wont let you subject our daughter to your disgusting way of living."

"Don't go there, Jackie," he told her through grit teeth, shaking his head and glancing over at Olivia, who looked completely withdrawn. He knew all she wanted was to get a reaction out of him, get him angry, make him do things he'd regret, and he was tired of it. "Go home. I'm not going to have this conversation with you in front of Heather. You'll see her tomorrow."

She let out a cruel laugh. "If you think I'm going to let her stay here now that I know what kind of company you've been keeping, you're out of you're mind. You have something to say to me then say it now, otherwise we're gone."

"What part of not-in-front-of-our-daughter don't you understand?!"

"Then I guess you'll see me the weekend after next. That is," she said coldly. "If your two dollar whore isn't here."

She stood there, staring him down, gauging his reaction, and he almost couldn't take it anymore, he knew she just wouldn't stop. She wanted him to unleash his furry on her, she wanted solid confirmation that she'd gotten to him, to know that her words still affected him, and he knew that she wouldn't let it go until she got it. She'd keep trudging on, keep saying things, keep throwing degrading insults at her - at Olivia. Olivia, the most innocent party in all of this, she didn't deserve that. But he wouldn't allow himself to engage in a discussion that he knew would get ugly in front of his daughter. So he saw only one option that might save them. And even though he hated to do it, he saw no other way.

His eyes dragged over to her, and he saw her large brown eyes glazed over with a mixture of mangled emotions – shame, defense, denial, hurt, anger, disbelief, the list went on. He could only imagine what she was thinking right now. He could only hope that he hadn't ruined everything. "Liv," he said, voice laced with anguish. "I hate to do this to you, but would you mind…?" he asked looking down at his wide-eyed, observant daughter, studying the stitching on her mother's skirt.

Her gaze followed his and she immediately understood. "Yeah," she said quietly with only the slightest hesitation. "Sure." Standing up, she gave Heather-Anne a small smile, her heart aching for the tiny girl and all of the turmoil she would be forced to endure throughout the years to come. But as she approached her and when Heather realized she would be going with Olivia, suddenly, a hand came into view and firmly gripped onto the little girl, holding her back.

Olivia looked up from Heather-Anne, only to be met with her mother's threatening glare. "Don't you dare touch my daughter."

Olivia's mouth hung open slightly, completely unaware of what to do or say. She let her eyes fall from the woman's piercing stare and involuntarily pressed her lips together while her head bobbed minutely up and down. "I, um…I think I'm going to go," she said looking over at Mark as his countenance sank into half horror, half panic. "I'll call you tomorrow," she reassured him quietly and grabbed her coat. Part of her felt bad for leaving this way, knowing that he was under stress and pressure to just make this all go away for her, but she truly didn't know how much more she could take. She didn't feel like herself, it wasn't like her to let unfounded insults get to her – she'd been called names before, on the job, off the job, in high school, in college. She knew how to brush things off, she dealt with it on a daily basis. But for some reason, she was emotional. It surprised her, it scared her. She was strong, and yet right now, she felt so weak, which only upset her more. She knew she had to leave. Before she did something to embarrass herself, not that she hadn't already been humiliated enough. "Excuse me," she said, stepping around the vengeful blonde standing by the door, and then moving down the hallway towards the stairs.

A/N: So I think when you REVIEW, you should check the little Story Alert box, since I'm leaving for Japan on Aug 1st and will be gone for 2 whole weeks. Then 2 days after I get back, I go to Florida for 1 whole week. So during that time, I'm not sure when I'll get to write or post since I wont have the internet :( Don't be discouraged though! We're just only starting to scrape the surface of this story, so stay with me!! If this chapter totally sucked, do tell. If it was freaking awesome, I'd like to know. If you just read it, say something! haha BUT, if it did suck, I swear the next chapter's better - at least I think - so dont let that getcha down! Stay tuned :)