Exhausted from her reunion with Abbie, Olivia fumbled with the keys before finding the right one for her front door. As she walked into her quiet, sparsely decorated apartment she shrugged off her jacket, tossed her keys into the bowl on the entry table, and headed to the kitchen for a beer. Popping the cap off, she took a long drink and wandered over to the answering machine where the red light was blinking furiously.

The first message was a wrong number, the second a telemarketer. The third was the one she'd simultaneously anticipated and dreaded. "Hey Liv, it's me. I tried calling your cell. Did you leave it in your desk again? Anyway, I got a guilty verdict in the Toscano rape case and wanted to celebrate with my favorite detective. Give me a call when you get this. Everyone from work has already headed out for drinks."

Torn between ignoring the message and calling Casey to plead work, Olivia listened to the message again. The cheerfulness in her voice caused Liv's stomach to knot up. What she'd said earlier, her aside to Elliot, was a reference to Casey. She really did love her, more than she liked to admit. Trouble was, Abbie would always have a special piece of her heart. Olivia couldn't deny that, and as much as she adored Casey, that old love for Abbie was just below the surface, begging to be brought forward and examined.

Pulling out a chair, Liv sat down heavily and rested her head in her hands, all of the conflicting thoughts racing through her brain: images of her with Abbie, and, more recently, with Casey. In each of the images she was happy, laughing, obviously in love. How was she supposed to make a decision like this?

The jangling of the phone broke through her swirling thoughts, and she snatched it up, quickly glancing at caller ID. "Hey babe, I just got in. Congratulations on your win!" Liv forced herself to sound enthusiastic.

"Thanks! Are you coming to join us?" questioned Casey, the noise of the bar loud in the background.

Liv paused, trying to reign in her stormy emotions, and in a calm, upbeat voice replied, "Sure thing, just let me change. I'll be there in twenty."

"Great! Love you babe!" Casey responded, and Liv could hear the smile in her voice.

"Love you too." Liv replied with quiet sincerity. Fortunately Casey was so wrapped up in her victory celebration that she didn't notice the change in Olivia's tone. Olivia hung up quickly, wandering down the hall to rummage through her closet for something dressier than detective clothes. There were times when she wished she owned more than one pair of nice black pants, but knew that the pair she did own would be clean. She and Casey rarely went out on "dates," too great a chance that they'd be seen in public and linked romantically. Work celebrations such as the one tonight were perfectly acceptable, but one-on-one was not allowed.

Throwing on a change of clothes and touching up her makeup, Liv rushed back out the door hoping that a drink and time spent with her girlfriend would ease the knot in her stomach and lift the weight from her heart.

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Across town Abbie was also trouble by conflicting emotions. Seeing Olivia, spending time with her, had aroused deep emotions that Abbie had spent months pushing aside. On the other hand, there was Catherine. This thought caused her to pause for a moment. Abbie reflected on Catherine further, considering this enticing new idea. Never one to push, she decided to play it casually and invite Catherine to dinner as a thank you for decorating the apartment. Torn between calling now on the off-chance that Catherine was still at work and waiting to do it in person when she officially started work, Abbie nervously picked up her phone and began dialing the assistant's direct line.

"Catherine Van Allen," came the brisk greeting.

Abbie paused, taking a deep breath as she wondered just what the hell she was doing.

"Hello?"

"Uh . . . hey . . . hello Catherine, it's Abbie Carmichael." Blushing furiously, Abbie was grateful she'd decided to do this via a phone call. She felt like a teenager again.

"Hi Abbie. All settled in?" Catherine asked, curiosity lacing an unasked question.

"No. Yeah. I mean . . . Yes, the place is perfect." Taking a deep breath Abbie continued, "that's actually why I was calling. I wanted to take you to dinner as thanks for doing such an amazing job. Or, you know what, why don't I cook for you, give you the opportunity to enjoy the place from a different perspective." Startled herself by the last part of the invite, Abbie almost missed Catherine's response.

"That would be great! When were you thinking?"

"How about the day after tomorrow? I'm still looking for my cookbooks." Abbie grinned while her palms sweated in nervousness.

Laughing, Catherine replied, "Sounds perfect. Say 8 o'clock? Can I bring something? Wine maybe?"

"Just yourself. I'll take care of the rest."

"Alright. Oh, and Abbie?"

"Catherine?" she replied, hearing the smiling flirtation in Catherine's voice.

"It's a date. See you then."

"Looking forward to it."

After saying goodbye, Abbie wandered into the kitchen and dug through the boxes looking for her cookbooks, thinking about which dishes would make the best first impression.