Three days had passed. Stabler did what he was told and communicated with SVU through Carisi. And since technically she hadn't told him to not contact her socially, he technically wasn't out of line when he rang her phone seven times over those three days. She ignored him each time, letting the calls go to voicemail, giving him a dose of his own medicine and suppressing the feelings welling up inside her since his unsolicited confessions in her apartment three nights ago.

But she knew he would overstep his boundaries eventually. In fact he already had. So she was subtly shocked that he hadn't shown himself since. Probably licking his wounds and plotting his next attack, she assumed. Things were progressing on the case, but she knew – she just knew – he would be stewing. He wasn't one for not getting his way.

Her office door was open when he cautiously approached. He peeked around the doorframe to see her, glasses on and focused on putting her signature to paperwork generated by the squad. Her squad.

She'd always been beautiful yet vulnerable. But something about her had changed. She moved with a new confidence now, a sage swagger. Like she owned the place. He found it fascinating.

He was captivated enough to think she wouldn't know he was standing there. She never let on that she knew - until she spoke without looking up at him. "It's not happening tonight either, but you might as well come in."

He dropped his hands limply to his sides in defeat and threw his eyes to the ceiling. He looked sideways at her, silently questioning how the hell she knew. Finally he stepped from the doorway into her office. He rubbed his palms down his thighs as he settled into the chair across from her. Here he was again, feeling less like a guest than a subordinate who'd been called in here on the carpet.

"You really think that's why I'm here?"

She peered at him over her glasses, finally looking him over. "I know so. The idea that that door is open even the slightest bit," she said, curling her fingers about an inch and a half apart, "has you standing here in my office again." Then as if his presence was a trivial distraction, she returned to writing.

He studied her, searching for some way to prove she was wrong. Other than an outright lie, he hadn't a leg to stand on. So he stated what he thought was the obvious. "That door has never been open before."

She smirked to herself then, considering how the gifted detective in him could have been so damn clueless for so long. She didn't look at him when she said, "Not my fault you never tried knocking."

Was she really implying that he was right? That all along had he reached for her she would have reached back? He couldn't fathom the countless opportunities, the times he'd been clueless and the times he'd been terrified. Not to mention married.

She'd finally thrown him a bone and he was gaining confidence by the minute. "Have lunch with me."

She scoffed. "Ah ... no." She was quick and firm and nearly sarcastic with her answer.

"Why not?"

She fired off her reasons effortlessly. "Because I'm busy. You're a witness in an open investigation. And quite frankly you're not good for my appetite."

"What the hell does that mean?"

She glared at him, considering whether to explain herself further or launch another counterattack. She decided against both. "Nothing. Forget it.

"So you can't have lunch with your partner?"

Now he was just pushing her buttons. "You're not my partner anymore," she told him. "And five years out, there are fewer and fewer days that I find myself wishing you still were."

Her words were abrupt and crushing. She'd missed him but had learned to live without him. He'd wasted too much time. He felt as if he were trying to burst through a door that wouldn't budge. He kept throwing his shoulder into it and was launched backwards each time. He'd broken down many doors in his career so he was stubborn enough to keep trying. So as if he were searching his surroundings for crowbar or battering ram, he searched his mind for a new approach.

"Did you sleep last night?"

She stopped writing and pulled her glasses off, finally awarding him her full attention. Her eyes told him that his question had struck a nerve. She stared at him through a long silence before answering. "Did you?"

He didn't hesitate. "Not a fucking wink."

She dropped her glasses on the tablet in front of her with a soft plunk and pushed her chair back from her desk. She approached him, her hands stuffed in her pockets and her shoulders squared. She stared at him a moment, fighting against her urge to give in to him even a little bit. He stood and met her eyes, sure that he was about to be tossed out of her office and onto the street.

She took a deep breath and nibbled her lip as she considered her next move. She knew that the harder she pushed him away, the harder he'd fight. Damn him for leaving. Damn him for showing up now.

"I can't go until 2," she said softly, the reluctance apparent in her words.

He refused to let her see that she'd downright shocked him with her response. "Good," he said nodding his approval. "I'll be back."

Then he turned abruptly and left her office. For the first time since he'd walked back into her world - what used to be their world - he finally felt like maybe - just maybe - he wasn't too late.

She watched him walk out of the squad, dipping a nod to Fin as he left. She retreated back into her office. This time she closed the door.

He returned at 2:07. He'd been downstairs since 1:40, but didn't want to seem too anxious. It was all part of the dance. She emerged from an interview room a few minutes later to find him casually leaning against a support beam near her office. He was thumbing through his phone, trying to look busy and patient.

She found herself strangely happy to see him standing there. It's not that she thought he wouldn't be back. It's just that she wanted to remain annoyed with him. She'd have to give herself a firm talking to about that little flutter.

"You again," she teased.

He lifted his eyes from his phone without moving his head. "You know me. The gift that keeps on giving."

She managed a smile then. "Just let me check in with my babysitter and we can go."

"Do it on the way. I'll drive," he said.

It would save time so there was really no reason to argue. She grabbed her blazer and her phone and brushed past him on the way out of the squad. He watched her walk a few steps ahead of him, silently chiding himself for letting his eyes wander, then pushed himself off the wall and followed her out.

He knew better than to open her door for her when they got to his car. She'd rip his head off and spit down his neck if he made a move that so convincingly transformed lunch between friends into anything that even remotely resembled a date. He slid in next to her and started the car. "So where to?"

"This was your big idea, so you pick." Then she turned her attention to her phone and tapped Lucy's phone number.

As he drove, he eavesdropped on a conversation he never thought she'd have, taking in the small milestones of Noah's day and setting her sights on pushing through her own front door by 7 p.m. As she hung up, she caught him smiling. "What's so amusing?"

"Nothing, Liv. It's just … nice, you know."

"Lucy is a Godsend."

"Not that. I mean it's nice to see you … and forgive me if I am making assumptions here … happy."

"It's a whole new world, you know," she said running her fingers through her hair. "Of course you know."

"That doesn't mean it gets to be old hat," he said. "Enjoy every moment. They go by so damn fast."

She let his parenting advice linger between them a moment. "Speaking of fast, where are we headed."

"I'm thinking Chinese."

"I could go for that. But we have to be quick."

"Aren't you the boss now?"

"Exactly," she said. "And as you'll recall, we happen to be in the middle of a case."

"Relax Liv. You'll think better with a good meal and some time out of that squad room. I'll get you back in plenty of time to lock up all the bad guys."

After they ordered, they slowly slipped into cautious conversation again. He munched from a basket of crunchy Chinese noodles, and she studied the small particles of tea leaves swimming at the bottom of her tiny cup, considering whether to ask him the question that was among the reasons she hadn't slept last night.

"The other night …," she began. "You were doing so well. Why'd you push it?"

He didn't really have an acceptable answer for that. Not one that wouldn't earn him a right cross from the other side of the table. He munched one more noodle before offering a response. "I guess I'm still a work in progress. See, I don't have all the right moves here Liv. I'm going by feel."

She rolled her eyes and smirked at him. "Yeah I got that."

She spooned a dab of duck sauce onto a small plate and used a knife and fork to slice open her egg roll. He watched her go through the simple motions of everyday life with amusement. They'd done these little things together hundreds of time during their partnership. But it was little glimpses back into her life that made him realize how very much he'd missed her.

She looked up at him as she chewed, studying his demeanor and waiting to swallow before pushing the issue. "So what'd you expect? For me within 24 hours to fall into bed with you?"

His eyes grew wide at her question and the very inclusion of her, him and a bed in the same sentence. "God no … I just …"

But she cut him off. "Where is all this coming from? Why now?"

The old Olivia would have beat around the bush a few years before coming right out and asking him about his intentions. But not this Olivia. She'd been to hell and back and lived to tell about it. That would change anybody. Instinctively, he relied on a good defense as the best offense in this situation. "You kissed me, Olivia."

"That wasn't for you. That was for me," she scrambled to say. "I was just trying to put your curiosity to rest so you'd leave."

"You still kissed me."

She was quiet then, part pissed and part guilty. She had in fact kissed him. Even though his words had set the scene, she'd still been the one to move first. On the other side of the table, he was gaining strength, having for the first time since he'd reappeared, an actual upper hand. And for the first time, she looked away first. As soon as she did, he felt bad for making her uncomfortable.

He pushed one of the crunchy noodles through the duck sauce on her plate and looked her over. "Was it what you expected?"

Her eyes flung upwards. "Christ Elliot, what do you want from me?"

"I want what you're willing to give me?"

"What does that even mean?" she asked through a voice tinged with disdain.

"I want you in my life again."

She chuckled in disbelief. "Do you realize how assanine you sound right now?" After all, he'd been the one to walk away, pushing her out of his life. How dare he ask for reentry?

"I've been taking what you've been dishing out," he argued. "You think this is easy for me?"

"I'm not interested in what's easy for you," she barked, her voice rising now.

He raised his palms trying to stall the escalation of the tension between them. "Okay, let's try this. Just answer me this? Was any part of you happy to see me the other day?"

In fact several parts of her had been and still were very happy to see him. But she wouldn't tell him that. She couldn't deny the heated shock that shot through her when Fin's iPad had given her the first glimpse of him in years. She couldn't deny that underneath the anger bubbled a sense of anticipation when he'd shown up at her door three nights ago. And she couldn't deny that she was getting some perverse pleasure out of making him work for it. While she ran it all through her head he patiently waited for her answer. She didn't lie, but she wasn't completely honest either.

"I don't know. Maybe," she said, the last word fading into her tea cup as she pulled it to her lips.

He gave her a small smile and echoed the words she'd spoken in her office three days ago. "Well I guess that's a start."