Disclaimer: Par usual, I don't own anything, it all belongs to ShondaLand

Once they had their keys they headed toward the elevator in silence. Amelia avoided making any contact with Owen, choosing to pretend like she was alone. The ding of the elevator snapped her out of her thoughts, signalling her to enter.

Owen was desperately trying to get any reaction from her, but she kept her head down, with her soft brown curls covering her eyes. He so badly wanted to reach forward and push them behind her ear, but for his own safety and her comfort, he restrained.

The elevator doors slowly slid shut, leaving Owen and Amelia to listen to the gentle whirring of the elevator, and their breathing. The walls were all mirrors, beautifully sparkled and cleaned. Owen watched her as her shoulders heaved with each breath; like a weight was pressing down on her and the way her hair swayed as each breath pushed a few strands forward. As he was observing her, she gently tilted her head upward, making eye contact through the reflection.

Owen was shocked to see her looking back but kept a cool façade because it had been so long since he had been able to look in to her deep blue eyes. He watched as emotions crossed her face: confusion, doubt, and curiosity. He wagered a small grin, just lifting one corner of his mouth. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and she tilted her head down again, her hair swooshing back in to it's resting place.

Owen noticed the glassy look in her eyes, "Amelia?" he ventured, reaching out to place one of his large hands on her shoulder. She recoiled immediately, like she had been burned, his hand falling limp at his side.

"Don't, just don't Owen." She whispered, voice thick with emotion.

He so badly wanted to fight with her. Pry and get her to open up again as she used to, "talking to death" as he had so kindly put it all those months ago. But he knew not to push her, and if he wanted even the slightest chance of regaining her trust or even her friendship, he would have to stay quiet, and accept the walls she had put up to protect herself from him.

The elevator finally arrived at their floor, the sudden ding breaking the spell. Amelia strode ahead with her bag trailing behind her, his woman on a mission. Well, a woman on a mission. He followed behind a few steps, leaving space between them. Once she found the room she swiped her key card at the door only to see a small red light. She tried a few more times, eventually letting out a huff of frustration. He had been in such a trance watching her he didn't register her talking to him until she said his name.

"Owen." She sighed. He snapped out of his day dream to look at her. How long had it been since his name had rolled off her tongue? Since she had even addressed him as another person in her area? God how he had missed he way her lips moved around the letters.

"Owen? Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" she huffed.

"Pardon? I zoned out a bit there," he said sheepishly, a blush forming on his cheeks.

"My card isn't working, can I use yours?" she said, looking down at her feet.

"Oh! Sure, just let me grab it." He said and he fumbled through his pocket to find it. He held his out with the card and when their fingers touched it was like nothing had even changed. He looked in to her eyes and caught her gaze before she quickly turned back to the door. Despite her best efforts, the card still didn't work for her.

Owen carefully came up behind her and reached his hand forward to take the card from her. She shot a look over her shoulder, warning him he was getting too cozy. He rolled his eyes in response before taking her hand in his own, and gently inserting the key card in to the slot before being rewarded with a green light.

Amelia stood frozen, her hand still clasped in his. A million thoughts raced through her mind as his scent filled her nostrils and invaded her space, God I've missed him. She quickly pushed them aside and released her hand to turn the knob and enter the room.

As they crossed the threshold, they were greeted by the lavishness of the suite. He had flashbacks of the night they booked the room together, choosing to splurge on a suite meant for romance and passion, as opposed to the current cold war that was their present situation. Most noticeably was the large bed that took up the majority of the room, covered in plush blankets and pillows. In the corner was a small sofa that Owen knew would be his resting place for the weekend, and was already dreading the ache in his neck that would form.

"Well, the sofa looks too good to pass up, so I'll take that if you don't mind," he said while shooting a glance in her direction.

"Don't be stupid, you're far too much of a giant to fit on there, it's fine, you just take the bed." She said, her back still facing him.

"No really, it's ok. I mean it's my fault we're in this situation anyway, I'll take the couch." Owen replied quietly.

She froze in her spot, her shoulders rising and falling with her breaths. Still facing away from him, she quickly nodded her head, before moving to settle her clothes in the wardrobe.

Amelia had disappeared in to the bathroom about 20 minutes ago, stating she needed to shower after a day of travel. He simply nodded his head in replied and listened for the water to turn on. Owen lost track of time reading a journal on the couch until he heard his name being called.

"Owen?" she said, poking her head out of the doorway.

"Amelia? Is everything ok?" he said, looking over his shoulder to see her dripping wet hair and her teeth chattering.

"Not really, there's no towel in here. Are there any out there?" She asked, praying he would find some quickly before she froze the death.

"Hang on – I'll check" he said, scurrying off the couch to look around the room, eventually coming back empty handed.

He gently knocked on the bathroom door, and Amelia's head popped out.

"I didn't find any, not even a robe. Did you want me to grab something from your suitcase?" He asked hesitantly trying to look away from the drips of water making their way down her collarbones.

"Shit," she muttered, "I didn't really bring anything I can get wet, just don't worry about it."

After the door closed again he went over to his suitcase, rifling through before finding what he was looking for. He stood outside the door and knocked again.

"Amelia?"

She door opened again, this time her hair was tied in a bun on the top of her head, leaving her smooth and creamy neck on display for Owen. He bit back a groan before offering her the item in his hand.

She looked down and immediately recognized the shirt. It was soft red and black plaid flannel, one that she used to "borrow" from Owen when she stayed over. She was quiet as she looked from the shirt to his eyes, seeing nothing but kindness and nervousness. She took the shirt from his hand and thanked him quietly before closing the door and slipping the shirt over her head. She leaned against the door and brought the collar to her nose, breathing in the masculine scent that she knew so well. She shook her head at the thought and began doing her makeup before leaving her hair in soft curls.

About half an hour later she peeked her head out of the door, finding Owen facing away from her on the couch, already in his suit for dinner. She wagered that if she was quiet enough, he wouldn't even notice her. She walked out of the bathroom and over to her suitcase, bending over to find a pair of underwear.

Owen turned his head at the noise of the zipper, and was greeted with the sight of her long creamy legs and the curve of her bum peeking out from under his shirt. He tore himself away from the image, not wanting to be caught, or get a reaction from looking at her smooth skin. He heard the swish of her dress being taken out of bag and her feet padding back to the bathroom.

After she had disappeared back in to the washroom, he took the time to put on some cologne and smooth his hair and tie in to place. Dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a skinny black tie, he knew he looked nice. On his wrist was his favourite watch, the one she had given him for their 6-month anniversary. He turned around as he heard the bathroom door being opened again, Amelia appearing in a long black dress. The top had a high collar, and the flared out around her midriff to show a few inches of mesh before becoming the opaque black again. Her hair was pinned away from her face, and as she looked over at him he noticed how dark her eyes looked.

"Do you mind just getting the zipper please?" she pleaded quietly.

Owen walked over and touched her back as he secured the dress shut, intoxicated by the sight of her muscular back and smooth skin. Without knowing they both held their breath while he slowly dragged the zipper up. She was first to break the silence.

"Are you ready to head down to dinner?" she asked, taking in his muscular form and the clean-cut lines of his suit.

He looked in to her eyes and nodded his head, following her lead out of the suite.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed Chapter 2!