After that, she didn't hear from him. Not a word. She wanted to be cool about it, but her stomach churned with nerves. She reminded herself that last week was probably a one time thing, and she should wait until Friday to receive her weekly I love you text. But she wanted more.

She wanted more than one text. She wanted more than one night, one passionate interlude. She wanted all of him. She wanted everything.

Thursday morning sucked. Like the everything that could go wrong does, kind of sucked. Noah was in a mood, and she knew something was up, but he wouldn't talk about it. Instead, he stomped around the apartment and it took all of her self restraint not to pull her own hair out. All his stomping and huffing made him late for school, which meant she had to walk him in for check in, and that only made her more late. Then of course she spilled her damn coffee everywhere and she didn't have her normal change of clothes in her car because she had to change after a particularly gruesome crime scene last week and forgot to replace them.

After going back to her apartment to change, she was incredibly late, and incredibly grumpy. She felt bad for the first person who dared piss her off because she would likely take their head off.

She all but stomped into the precinct, and the hall of officers parted in front of her like Moses parting the Red Sea. She must have had don't mess with me written all over her face because nobody dared make eye contact.

When she finally arrived at her squad room she noticed it was unusually quiet. The silence amped up her already deadening nerves. Silence like this was maddening. It was the calm before the storm. Any minute now the floodgates would open and a surge of victims would overwhelm the now dead precinct. It wasn't a guess. It was an inevitability.

Her detectives sensed her mood and kept their eyes down, fearing they might inadvertently poke the dragon. As she passed Fin he looked amused. She wanted to smack him.

"What?" She snapped.

"Woah, girl." He lifted his hands up in self-defense. "Bad morning?"

"Yeah," she grumbled. "Want a preteen?"

"Nah. I didn't exactly kill it in the parenting department," he shook his head, "my kid forgave me but good Lord, I was the worst." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Noah givin you problems?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. She leaned against his desk. "You know back when Noah was like four, and he decided he hated Lucy and would pitch a fit every time I went to work?"

"Oh yeah. He was kinda a tyrant for a while."

"Well this is worse," she groaned. "When he gets home I'm probably going to have to ground him for like..." She waved her hands around, "the rest of his life…And that's sucks because then he has nothing to do and he will make me more crazy before he hopefully learns his lesson. "

Fin actually looked a little overwhelmed for her. Which was validating, because someone else should share her overwhelming life, and if it couldn't be the man she needed in her life it might as well be her best friend.

Fin recovered and then a slightly annoying smirk grew across his face. He tilted his head towards her office, and with his tongue in his cheek he said, "Well. Maybe there's something in your office that might make you feel better…"

She wanted to roll her eyes at his cryptic suggestion, but her curiosity got the better of her. She left Fin smiling behind her, and swung open her office door.

Sitting boldly on her desk was a gorgeous flower arrangement. Her steps were hesitant as she moved towards the beautiful arrangement of multicolored tulips. She reached for the obligatory note left by the florist. A long breath escaped her lips as she pulled open the small card.

Friday took too long. I love you.

She felt tears welling in her eyes. She brushed them away. She was not going to cry, in her office, in the middle of a weekday. She flipped the card over, and she was surprised to see a series of numbers, a phone number? And a short question…

Tonight?

Her heart pounded. He wanted her to call him. Her hand unconsciously toyed with the necklace dangling against the base of her throat. The number was probably for a burner cell. His attempt to cover his tracks, keep her safe, and remain anonymous.

She still held the card in her hand, thinking. She should be more responsible. She should tell him this was dangerous, and stupid. She should tell him she couldn't condone this kind of disobedience to his superior officer. She should. But she wouldn't.

The NYPD captain needed to be responsible and strict, but that card held delicately between her fingers wasn't for Captain Benson. It was for Olivia, and Olivia needed to hear the sound of his voice. She needed to feel the warm hum that made every cell in her body vibrate. She needed him. Captain Benson could relax for the night so Olivia could talk to her man.

-000-

Elliot left his wedding band in a drawer. His finger felt naked and he kept unconsciously flicking his thumb at his fingers to spin a ring that was no longer there. It felt weird. But it also felt lighter.

He still felt out of sorts, and there was a possibility he would flee back to his hotel room and slide it back on. He tried to lean into the discomfort, letting it wash over him, rather than frantically trying to fix it.

He had been reading to pass the time, and since in person therapy was out of the question at the moment, he made due with a reading list suggested by his therapist. Sit with the discomfort. For a man who had an extreme fight or flight reflex, sitting was intensely difficult.

He tried to sit with it, but the anxious feeling became too overwhelming so he tried burying himself into his work.

Inevitably, his mind started to wander, and Olivia was its favorite winding path. He held back a smile, thinking about her likely reaction to the flowers. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure how she'd feel about them. This was more uncharted territory for them. Jewelry. Flowers. Their relationship had always been fueled by caffeine and sustained by an undercurrent of sexual tension. This was different for them. And even with his absence, he was trying desperately to not screw up.

He missed her. He wanted to talk to her, but their last night was spent frantically removing clothes instead of talking. He had planned to talk some things over with her, but their night got cut short, and he felt guilty about it. She was more to him than sex. He wanted her to know she meant more. So he sent the flowers, and picked up a burner, hoping to stay connected, and not lose ground they so meticulously gained.

He let his thoughts wander to her beautiful soft skin, and a compass necklace hanging delicately around her neck. A neck he wished he had his mouth on. Ugh. He needed shove the memories back into their box so he could drop back into his UC persona. He had to put her back into the he could get lost in thoughts of her, but for now he had to track invoices and doctor books.

-000-

The day dragged and dragged. She kept his note in her pocket, occasionally letting her fingers brush across it. Every time she looked up, she was greeted with a bundle of brightly colored blooms. Knowing Elliot the tulips meant something. On a whim she googled it.

Perfect or deep love.

Damn it. She was crying again. She seriously had to stop it. Crying in her office was less than ideal. She quickly dabbed the tears away with a tissue and flipped open a mirror to check how much damage the tears did to her make up. After touching it up she glanced at the clock and groaned. Three more hours of work, and six more hours before Noah was tucked safely in bed. Six more hours until she could call. This damn day was taking forever.

-000-

Olivia rushed Noah into bed by nine. She didn't even feel guilty about it since he was being so grouchy. He stomped through brushing his teeth. He stomped through putting his pajamas on, and he stomped off to bed. And she had a headache.

Once Noah settled, she changed into some pajamas, and poured a glass of wine. After grabbing her phone off the counter she cozied herself onto the couch. She tossed a blanket over her legs and sipped her wine for a moment before dialing the number she had already memorized.

He answered after one ring. "I see you got my flowers…"

She grinned at the exaggerated pride in his voice. "Oh? Those were from you?" She teased.

"Ouch," he laughed. "That one cut deep." God. It was so good to hear his voice. "Should I be worried about competition? I mean how many flowers does Captain Benson receive in a week?"

She bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile. She missed the banter. The flirting. "I'm not sure I should tell you that…"

"Oh. Now you are just trying to make me jealous…" he feigned distress.

"Mmm. Jealous Elliot is one of my favorite Elliots." She practically purred.

"Oh God, Liv." His voice sounded more breathy than it had a minute ago. "You're killing me."

"Oh?" Her voice was light, lilting, and innocent.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

She drank another sip of wine. "We wouldn't want that…" this conversation was taking a turn… as much as she would love that, she wanted to talk. Really talk. "Um," she drank some more wine. "Your day okay?" It wasn't the most graceful change of subject, but it worked.

"Okay." He hesitated and she knew he wanted to say something, but held back. And that was the problem.

"El," she said softly. "I need you to talk to me." She sighed, not quite knowing how to put her thoughts into words. "I just…I really want this to work. And I know you need time, and I know you are working through things, but…" she let out a nervous breath. "Let me help you. There's never going to be a perfect time for us. We are both way too screwed up and emotionally damaged to ever be completely okay, and I don't know." She dropped her forehead against her hand. She wasn't sure if any of what she was saying made sense. "What I'm saying I guess is I'm happiest when I'm with you, and I.. um, I…we will always have mountains of baggage between us, but I'm tired of unpacking it alone, and maybe, I guess I hope, that you are tired of doing it by yourself too."

She felt like she rambled, and he probably got lost halfway through her messy speech. The silence on the other end, almost proved her point, but then he finally said something. "I took my wedding ring off today," he started cautiously.

She resisted the urge to scream hallelujah. No dodging. No deflecting. Just the truth. "Yeah? How do you feel about it?"

She heard him sigh on the other end, but he continued. "Weird, guilty, unsettled. I don't know. I'm feeling lots of things really, and all of them feel…" he let out a long breath. "Overwhelming," he finished.

She set her wine glass on a coaster on the end table, and settled deeper into her couch, pulling her blanket over her. "That's understandable." She bit her lip, and reminded herself. Honesty. "Are you feeling guilty because of me?"

"No." He answered quickly, but he thought for a moment before softening his stance. "It's not that I feel guilty about us, and this. It's more that…I just kinda wished I had done better. Then my life got turned upside down with that explosion and the new case, and then," she heard him gulp back emotion, "then Jamie died, and I just feel like I'm drowning in it all. And flashing back to that time. And wearing the ring made me feel secure… maybe? It just made me feel a small amount of comfort again." She heard him groan. "I don't think I'm making sense, and I want to talk about it. I'm just struggling with how."

She absorbed his explanations for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry you've been hurting El. I wish I could change things for you." It was difficult. Not being with him in person for this conversation. She wanted to hold his hand or pull his strong body against hers, but right now all she had were words. Words didn't feel like enough.

They sat in silence for a bit. "Were you able to keep it in the drawer?" She was nervous, worried she went too far, but she wanted to talk like friends again. Without all the fear and worry surrounding the reaction of the other. She bit her lip, waiting for his answer.

"It's still there," his voice sounded a little strained.

She wasn't prepared for the sudden emotion she suddenly felt. It was hard to label, but it felt something like pride. She was so proud of him. She swallowed the emotion and responded, "That's a really big deal."

"Yeah," he let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I kept a ring in a drawer. Hardly feels like much."

"El," she was trying to help him see progress, no matter how small. "It's something." Those damn emotions welled up in her chest, "it's something El, and I'm proud of you for trying. It might not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me." She tried to explain better, "but not for the reasons you probably think. Ugh. I'm not explaining myself well."

He laughed softly, "aren't we a pair."

She laughed too, "I know right? You think we would have better communication skills by now."

"Nah. We are both pretty emotionally stunted."

"Isn't that the truth." She felt a smile moving across her face. This was them. Really them. And she loved it. For the first time in a while, things between them felt natural, and incomprehensibly right.