Sorry I been negligent, guys. Thanks for liking this story, though. It's coming to a close. Here goes nothing.

Floodgates

She brought a hand to the necklace, continuing to hold his gaze. "I think I know," she whispered.

...

Elliot felt lighter than he had felt in years. An enormous burden-guilt, regret, grief-was in the process of being lifted and he could physically feel the world shifting to accommodate the unexpected change. In that moment, he didn't speak. If he could even think of the right words to utter, his tongue wouldn't have been able to help his lips form those words. And his dry throat would have sought the appropriate air from his lungs unsuccessfully. Olivia pressed her lips together, looking down. Whether she would forgive him or not was not the question to be asked. The question was how would things change if she let him back inter her life again. He cleared his throat to reattain the stable demeanor he had lost, "You got any food or has nothing changed?" A grin spread across her complacent face. She spun her head in the direction of the kitchen, her hair floating carelessly with the motion. "Umm, tsk tsk tsk," she hummed, spinning her head back to face him with a full, cheek-to-cheek smile and sparkling eyes, "Feel like Gerber tonight?"

He laughed, sat up and leaned forward, shaking his head. "Some things never change, huh?" They were filling the space of her living room with hearty laughter, slightly quieted so as not to disturb Noah. "Ya sure? It's #1 recommended," she goofed. As their laughter began to calm to chuckle then air, she slipped her hand over his shoulder and rested her chin on the end of his shoulder.

"Everything has changed," she said in an almost soothing voice. Then she laid the side of her head on his shoulder. She let out a long, relaxed, alleviated sigh. She wanted to cry and he wanted to pace. They could hardly read each other, though.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish I'd been a better partner."

She sighed again, this time short and marginally annoyed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I attacked you so many times," he explained, keeping his face forward. Olivia pressed her forehead and nose into his shoulder and upper arm. "Ya know?"

"I know," she begged, "I was there, I remember. I also remember coming after you a time or two."

"Yeah, but you never deserved it. It never had anything to do with you-"

"I know."

"You were always there-"

"Except when I wasn't-"

"and you would've followed me straight into early retirement."

"El, what's all this pining about?"

Finally, he turned to face her, to make her face him. He lifted his arm, the one she was leaning on, up and over her and he gripped the top of the couch. With his other hand he reached out for her left arm and brought it toward him to turn her body in his direction. Now he could face his demons. He held fast but not uncomfortably tight to her forearm and said, "I repeatedly hurt the person closer to me than anyone I know. The one person I could count on."

She moved her right arm to the side of his head. She lightly rubbed his buzzed hair just above his ear.

"You were all I ever had," she whispered, "I didn't even want anything else."

"Yeah, well, you should've left me. For good."

"But I didn't," she shot back, begging yet again for him to just trust that she could never write him off, "That would've only hurt both of us." Her hand graduated to his cheek. "Even still, I just want you back in my life." He swallowed and clenched his jaw. He felt her left hand slowly take its control back from his grip and slowly slide down his arm to take his hand. His eyes fell shut until he finished taking in a much needed breath. "You don't get it," she said-or asked. He looked into her eyes, past the dark brown ring, and deep into the pupil. It sucked him in, taking him on an unending journey through an infinite tunnel. Her eyes, they transfixed him. His heart, it was thumping against the skin of his chest, threatening to erupt from his body and rip through the fabric of his tank top. He felt like his soul had risen out of his body. He wasn't sure if he was there or anywhere. It could be called an out-of-body experience except that he wasn't watching from outside of his body, but from behind his very own eyes when he carefully leaned forward and magnificently merged his lips perfectly with hers.

Or he thought it had happened carefully, however his perception of the action was jaded through his surreal take on the moment. By her sudden intake of breath a mere millisecond before his lips crash landed his unconscious feared that he had just not only emotionally overwhelmed her but had been physically forceful. He did nothing, however, to show his regret. He simply coaxed her with his warm mouth until she apparently rebounded from her initial shock and, to his alleviation, became a willing participant. She guided the hand which his occupied around her waist and, once she was sure his arm would embrace her in that way, she proceeded to drape her newly-free arm over his shoulder while her other hand was laced under his other arm and up to cling to his shoulder from behind. This made their contact very close and intimate. He, of course, being bigger than she and overcome with some blinding emotion was beginning to incidentally overpower her. Once her tongue confirmed that his heart-stopping advance was warmly welcomed his confidence experienced a leap and the kiss marginally became more enthusiastic than clumsily improvised. They were both now unapologetic perpetrators in this forbidden dance. Still, Olivia felt a strange resistance within her as she felt herself leaning backward onto the couch. Having felt that tiny shift in her body, her resistance to gravity trying to pull her down into a laying position on the couch, Elliot broke the kiss, an act he was compelled to do due to his status as a gentleman and former Special Victims detective. No matter how honorable this was, he couldn't deny his feeling of disappointment. When his face retreated he could then see that he was leading in this dance. He was on the offense, leaning toward her, occupying her personal space. He retracted back a bit further and, gaining control over his breath again, apologized with a simple and slightly confused "I'm sorry."

Olivia said nothing. She was so very overwhelmed and her thoughts were thinking so fast that she couldn't hear any of them clearly and, thus, couldn't deliberate what to say. She didn't want him to be sorry. She wasn't sorry to finally be able to see him, touch him, or smell his unique scent. She wasn't sorry about where they were then, there on her couch. She didn't want him to be sorry about kissing her. She was glad somebody actually had to guts or absence of mind to take that chance. She almost lost him through the threshold of her front door but she moved quickly, gunning for the door to stop him, calling out his name to halt his departure. One hand gripped the door and the other gripped his arm. He was forced to meet her confrontational gaze, glazed over and beckoning.

"I don't even know what this means, Elliot," she almost shouted, offended that he was prepared to leave her again because she'd reacted in a less than promising way (when, in truth, he would've withdrawn no matter how she reacted). He wanted to leave. Disappear. What he'd just done... there was no going back after that. One touch of the lips would make or break them. He regretted risking the memory of their friendship like this. If he'd only stayed away he'd at least know for always that their bond wasn't broken. But this... could wreck that.

Her breathing was audible and her mouth, bearing evidence of a passionate kiss, was slightly agape. She would still be in shock had it not been for the fear of him walking out of that door and out of her life again. It was unbelievable, her fighting for this. Her choosing not to avoid these feelings was astonishing. She didn't want him to leave and if that meant she had to come clean to herself about their relationship and force him to as well, then so be it.

"But I don't want you to walk away from me again," she said.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he said before changing his course of thought, "Look, we don't need to do this. I don't want ruin us!"

"Then don't," she shouted back.

Then they heard Noah make a noise. She immediately shushed Elliot, putting her hand against his chest and looking in the direction of Noah's bedroom as if she was looking through the walls and at him. "Be quiet. He'll go back to sleep." He made a couple more noises. This annoyed Elliot because he thought she just didn't want to leave this argument unfinished. "He's up, Liv. And I gotta go." He tried to turn to walk away but she gripped his tank top and shushed him again. She made him stand and listen for a long sixty seconds of silence. He'd fallen back asleep like his mother said he would. She let go of his tank top, but her hand remained there in the middle of his chest. She recomposed herself. She chose to stick to her guns.

"Don't do this," she said, blandly.

"I can't do this. I'll never forgive myself," he said, staring boldly back into her brown eyes.

"So that's it? Huh? You're just gonna leave?"

He wouldn't say a word.

"If you go now, this is how you leave things. And everything we've ever had is dead. If you stay, we have a chance." A knot was beginning to form in her throat. She tried to ignore it because the next thing she planned to say was the most vital. He could here her breaking when she said it. "I want you to stay."

She wanted him to stay. That sentence swiped the rug out from all of his bullshit reasons to run away. He somehow learned to lie to himself, making ridiculous allegations about Olivia not needing him or wanting him. He'd always been in denial about how much he could possibly mean to her. Or anybody for that matter. But there it was. From her own lips. She felt the muscles under her fingers begin to move and instinctually clenched her hand into a fist, trapping the fabric of his tank top within. She let her eyes fall shut, because he was leaving. But she held on blindly. He could leave but she would never let go. Her faith served her well because when she heard the door close his shirt was still in her hand. She opened her eyes to find that he was still there. She lifted herself on her toes and pulled him by his shirt and their mouths quickly interlocked. The kiss wanted to be frantic but the two held back, wanting to savor each other rather than devour.

His hands were down at her hips and snuck themselves upward, slipping partially beneath the thin fabric of her cream-colored blouse. It was an accident, which is why he stopped their ascent. He was intent on censoring his body's reactions and behaviors, but it turned out not to be a problem. Olivia briefly broke their kiss and lifted her shirt over her own head, heeding his unintentional cue. Then she returned herself into his possession. She knew better than to question where this moment was taking them. She wasn't willing to let this get away from her, the unbridled affection and the honest-to-God passion. Her heart was melting inside her and the way his hands roamed her body and caressed her face and hair told her that his heart was melting, too.

She broke the kiss again this time to slide her arms around his neck and hug him tightly, her cheek to his. They've gotten this far and still there is a hesitation or resistance to make the next move. His jaw hung low as he held her back just as tightly and took advantage of the break in time to regain control of his breath. "I love you," she said. It was painful to say. She literally had to squeeze the air from her lungs and force the words through her gritted teeth. His eyelids fell shut and he let out a sigh. It was relief. And it was anxiety. She loved him like nobody else ever has. And this gave him certain responsibilities. Like never hurting her like he tended to do when they were partners. And fulfilling her every need. They'd always known they loved each other, but the verbal manifestation of those feelings meant that he could never leave her again. It's easier, however difficult, to deny feelings unspoken.

"I love you, too," he whispered into her ear. His words and the breath that drove them scattered goosebumps down her neck and back. He dropped his hands to her thighs and proceeded to lift her off the floor and turned her back to the front door. She wrapped her legs around him just above his hips. She quickly clawed at his back to get his tank top up and over his head. To do this he had to let go of her so he could get his arms out of the shirt, so he pressed his hips firmly against her so she'd stay propped up against the door. His jeans mostly contained his growing need for her but she could still feel his excitement wanting to meet hers. She ran her hands quickly across his broad chest. She practically worshiped his physique and had admired it for so long, only having the pleasure of setting her eyes on his bare chest a couple of times. Elliot's frantic need was slowed to a pleasant desire by the feel of her hands taking his torso in so tenderly. He returned and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. Then her jawline. Then an open-mouthed kiss to her neck became a gentle sucking as his hands migrated to beneath of her, claiming her ass with a sense of patience. She let her head fall back against the door. One hand gripped his shoulder to keep herself from falling apart and the other found the nape of his neck. This was it. They were in this for - like Elliot said - better or worse.

"Let's go," she requested and/or granted permission. He carried her like that to her bedroom and set her down on her feet in front of the bed. There was a brief moment where they both had to consciously maintain their composure. Then Olivia began to unbutton his jeans while his hands rested at her hips. He dropped his head forward and pressed his mouth into the top of her head as she unzipped his pants. He inhaled as much of the scent of her hair as he could. Suddenly, after all these years, it was like he couldn't get enough. He needed to smell her, touch her, kiss her, more. How did he ever not cross that line in their twelve years as partners the world will never know! When she pushed his jeans down with his boxers he kissed her hair. He could feel himself throbbing. It almost hurt except it was a numb ache. He whispered to her to lay down and she did. She set down and slid back, propping herself on her elbows. She couldn't take her eyes off him. When he was over her he undid her pants and slid them down with her panties. She took her bra off herself and that's when they were both completely exposed to each other. He lowered himself onto her her. They were skin to skin. She, of course, adjusted her legs to invite him into her space and he hooked one of them at his hip as they locked their lips in a long, warm, sensual kiss.

He pressed himself against her center and she slid her arms further around him, holding him tighter, bracing for impact. Underneath her palms she could feel his muscles contracting and relaxing, helping to orchestrated his synchronized motion as he pushed slowly into her. There was a quick, uncontrolled, uninhibitable intake of breath from Olivia and Elliot grunted. Her walls were hugging him so passionately and the overwhelming feeling that oblivion was soon approaching almost made him curse himself for having been abstinent for so long. He pushed on the rest of the way. He decided not to prolong the night - mainly for fear that he wouldn't have the discipline to - and since Olivia's moans and subtle, breathy exclamations were proof that it wouldn't make her no never-mind. So he continued at an enthusiastic yet luxurious pace until her orgasm took her into a different dimension. He pulled himself out, drenched in her natural lubricant, and let himself finish on her thigh. He was reluctant to cum inside of her and that was no time to ask even if he had known how to or had the state of mind to think to ask beforehand. When he was completely spent he laid himself down partially atop her and tucked one hand between the other side of her waist and the bed so that when he moved off of her her body would be compelled to follow. Olivia wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head just under his chin. The lay there coming down from their respective highs, simply breathing and being. Then Olivia, being the bolder one of the relationship, broke the silence.

"I miss this," she said, rubbing her thumb smoothly against his side.

"What," he asked, "sex?"

She didn't have to look to know he was smirking. How could he turn away from a chance to minimize the emotional aura with a slight jester. He would've been worried he'd opened his big, fat mouth for the last time if she hadn't relieved him with a very modest chuckle. It was barely audible but he felt it from her chest and the puff of air that simultaneously left her nose and rushed a small fraction of his skin including his nipple. He slid his fingers between hers so they could no longer tickle his side.

"Just being with you. The closeness. We were so close," she said.

"Me, too. I don't wanna go another year without my best friend," he finally confessed her significance in his life.

In a way, they accepted that they were fated for one another. And as frightening as it was, it felt good to give themselves to each other, an ultimate gesture of love.

Whew. I was so done with this one. At last, I hope you enjoyed it. Forgive any typos. I just skimmed instead of proofreading. Got things to do. Perhaps I'll proofread for real at some other time. Thanks for reading.

Happy Reviewing!