Chapter Two: Hard to Get

His eyebrows rise a little.

This magazine isn't so bad.

He's never really focused on which of the women he's slept with are moaners, screamers, cursers, or just silent.

He looks over to Olivia.

Which one is she?

She doesn't notice him looking at her. She's working on something, something that looks important.

This is not acceptable.

Mark turns back to his magazine so she doesn't catch him staring.

"Mark," He says without looking back up.

She glances out of the corner of her eye to see if he's talking to her. She looks up at him, "I'm sorry?"

"My name's Mark. I figured since we're going to be on this plane for the next," he stops to look at the watch on his wrist, "Four hours, we might as well know each other's names."

Her lips curve into a tiny smile, "Olivia."

"Well, Olivia, what do you do?"

Also, are you a moaner, a screamer, a curser, or silent during sex?

The question is burning deep inside of him but he wants to make it off this plane with everything intact.

"I'm a detective for The Special Victims Unit in Manhattan."

"You're a cop?" He asks.

Even more of a reason not to fuck things up but the image of this woman with a gun and handcuffs triggers something inside of him that he rarely feels.

There's a silence before Olivia speaks up.

"I'm surprised someone like you needs to refer to a magazine like that. A pretty boy such as yourself," she gestures toward the magazine in his hands.

His mind focuses back to reality and he pushes the dirty thoughts to the back of his mind. He glances back at the text as if he's processing what she says.

"I don't," he closes it, "I just picked it up for the plane ride." He glances at her and sets down the magazine, "Actually, it's pretty ridiculous. I could write better stuff than this," he says in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"Really," she chuckles. She lifts a perfectly arches eyebrow and opens her mouth to say something but decides not to.

Mark stops for a moment just to make sure this is real. Is she flirting or just messing with him?

She turns to look out the window. Only seeing the small lights on the wing guide the plane back to New York. She thinks about home, the air, Elliot. A rush of guilt and worry come over her when she visualizes him, waiting at the precinct for her to call or watching the clock, constantly checking the time to see when the right time to pick her up is. He's constantly fighting sleep. Then he pours himself a third cup of coffee, which doesn't help.

Olivia flashes back to reality. She knows he knows better to try and challenge sleep. The risk of sleeping at the wheel is too dangerous. She turns back to Mark.

"What brings you to New York?" She asks.

With the magazine back open, he flips through the last few pages before answering. He wants to tell her he's a first time visitor and is sightseeing then follows his story with a suggestion that she shows him around. But he doesn't want to lie to her. The truth may not be as interesting but it'll score him more points.

"Visiting home. It's been years." Then, the idea hits him, "I'm sure there's a ton of places I'm not familiar with." It's clear he's hinting at the obvious.

It's not lying and it's also what he is aiming for.

Olivia catches the hint, chuckles, and shakes her head, her brown hair swaying gently with her every move, "Google Maps - it's wonderful."

Mark feels a pang inside of him at her words. He could've sworn she was flirting with him earlier, how did this backfire so quickly?

He takes a while to regain his ego and reevaluate his plan. There are two and a half hours left on the plane and he begins to become nervous. Over the course of the flight, Mark realizes that Olivia is that type of challenge he wants and likes. She's not easy but she knows how get a guy's attention.

She has his in the palm of her hand.

They spend the remaining time talking about the usual things, family, friends, and their career. He learns about her mother, her absent father, her half brother, and her close relationship with her partner at work. She keeps the painful history about her mother to herself, only revealing the fact that she passed several years ago. He tells her about his estrangement with his parents and his job as a surgeon. Most girls brighten at the mention of his prosperous career but Olivia remains neutral and simply nods at the remark. He fails to tell her about his fumble with Derek and how he ruined their friendship at one point. It tempts him, though. He wants to impress her with how well he can repair a relationship (even though it wasn't him that repaired it) but he doesn't want to turn her off with the huge detail that he slept with his best friend's wife.

Eventually, they run out of things to say to one another. By then, the plane is hovering over the Empire State Building. It doesn't take much longer until it lands in JFK airport and the passengers begin to withdraw from the plane.

She's still not enticed by him; he needs more time.

"How about a drink?" Mark suggests like it's no big deal, like he hasn't been hitting on her this whole plane ride.

"It's almost three in the morning, Mark." She checks the time.

"Don't tell me you've never stayed out past three before," Mark jokes.

She doesn't laugh nor does she respond. Instead, Olivia slides her back into her pocket, "I think we should go home."

His eyebrows rise.

"Separately."

He relaxes. He does have reservations at a hotel around Fifth Avenue but somehow he wants a drink with Olivia more than sleep. Her lips turn upward into a small smile and she grabs a brochure off of a small table and a pen. After scribbling down her number, she hands it to Mark.

"Goodnight," she says with a tired, yet polite smile and makes her way towards the exit and disappears into one of the waiting yellow cabs.

He expected to be exhausted when he arrives at his hotel. He planned on having one drink and flirt with the cute bartender before retiring to his large room with a beautiful view. He envisioned himself go back to that same girl, telling her what a wonderful conversation he had with her the night before and would suggest to take things further. They would go on a small date and he'd bring her back to his room. This process would repeat on occasion with a few different women until it was time to return back to Seattle.

His plan reshaped in a matter of hours.

When he gets to his hotel, he checks in and gets his key - not even looking twice at the blonde concierge giving him bedroom eyes. The bar is empty and the bartender seems surprised at his presence. He orders his drink but not stopping for small talk or harmless flirting. He thinks about the irresistible brunette he met in the busy airport, the one he sat next to on the plane, and the one that rejected him multiple times in one night. He sits on his bed, looking at her number written on the pamphlet – her professional and neat handwriting invites him to call her.

He anticipates the moment when he can.