"I'm sorry I missed it," Elliot apologizes to Noah for missing their rollerblading date. Maureen had called him that afternoon asking if he had time to come over for dinner to see her and the boys. Knowing he was short on time, he had agreed and texted Olivia, asking if he could come by after dinner. "When I get back, I'll take you rollerblading."

"Will you skate, too?" Noah asks hopefully.

"I'm too old for that," Elliot answers as he watches Noah lift the lid on a game he's never seen before. Granted, he is far behind the times for popular board games. Even when his kids were younger, he had graduated them straight from Candyland to Texas Hold'em.

"That's what Mom says: I'm too old." Noah imitates his mother's voice as he slides into his seat at the kitchen table. He looks over his shoulder quickly to make sure his mom is still out of the room.

Elliot laughs. "Yeah, you better look over your shoulder. If you're gonna mock your mom, you need to get better at your impressions."

"Whatever."

"That's what you're gonna say when I kick your butt at this game." Elliot nods at the game Noah's unboxing: Settlers of Catan.

"Have you ever even played Catan?"

"I can't say that I have."

Noah snorts a short laugh. "Then I'm not worried."

"You should be," Olivia says, stepping up behind Noah's chair, ruffling his hair. "Elliot's smarter than he looks."

"I don't know if I should be honored or insulted," Elliot jokes.

"Both," Noah says, setting up the board and pieces around the table. "Can we get the Barbarian set soon? I'm bored with this one."

"We'll see. Maybe Santa will bring you the game for Christmas."

"Moooooom," Noah whines.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Olivia teases as she takes a seat next to Elliot on the couch. She knows that her son is not only whining because Christmas is months away but probably in fear that Elliot will think he still believes in Santa. "I forgot you've already outgrown Christmas magic. I'll be sure to remember when you give me your list at Thanksgiving."

"Whatever."

"One more whatever and we aren't playing."

Elliot looks down at the table, hiding his grin and trying not to watch the scene play out or let his presence egg Noah on.

Noah doesn't say anything else as he finishes setting up the board and pieces.

"Alright, tell me how to play."

"And then there were two," Olivia says as she walks into the living room to see Elliot take a seat on her couch.

"He's asleep already?" Elliot asks.

"Oh, no," she answers with a smirk, putting the game back on the shelf. "He'll probably be up for at least another half an hour, but once he's in bed, he usually stays."

Elliot eases back on to the cushion, watching Olivia move around her home. She seems more relaxed being alone with him in her apartment now as compared to January. The circumstances are completely different, but the undertone is almost heavier than it was back then. There is so much more between them now, on paper at least. Something he wants to correct tonight.

"He's well past the age of using I need a drink, or I need to go to the bathroom as an excuse to get out of bed."

"And thank god for that." Olivia joins Elliot on the couch. "You didn't have to let him win, you know," she says as she gets situated next to him, tucking her legs underneath her and facing him.

"Eh, I figure if I beat him, Santa may never bring him the Barbarians."

"You're too kind," she jokes before looking at him, smiling when she sees his crystal blue eyes trained on her.

The quiet is weighty between them, straining under the tension that's building, crackling. She breaks eye contact first, looking down at his lips, which flicker with a smile before they open. He speaks low and soft.

"I need to hear you say it, Liv."

Olivia looks back up, her head tilts. "Say what?"

"What it is we're doing here. I need to hear it from you," he tells her, taking her hand.

She looks down at her hand, resting in his. She's distracted momentarily by the size difference. Over all the years, she's not sure she ever noticed just how big his hands are. How big and soft they are. She can recall how secure she felt when they cupped her thigh and cradled her back as he carried her from the diner, but she'd been too distracted then to really appreciate just how his large hands felt on her body.

When she responds, it's barely louder than a whisper, her eyes watching his thumb move over the back of her hand, across her knuckles. "I don't know what we're doing."

"You don't?" he asks, matching her quiet tone.

Olivia shakes her head and sighs. "I, uh, told Noah that we were dating, sorta."

"Sorta?"

Her eyes are still on their hands. "You leave in a couple of days, El."

"I know."

"So, I'm just – I don't…" She's not being evasive. It's hard to put words together in person. His presence is warm and enticing as he sits next her on the couch, holding her hand, giving her a look she's not sure he's ever given her.

"Look at me," he commands gently, ducking his head to catch her eyes again. "I didn't mean to throw you. I just want to be on the same page."

"And what page is that?"

He grins and laces his fingers through hers. "The one where I want to kiss you and you want to kiss me back."

"I think we've covered that."

He shakes his head softly. "I don't mean just on paper. I need to hear it too, not just read it."

Uncertainty floods her. He's telling her that he needs her words. She's asked him for assurance before, in her letter. But she spelled it out: I need you to tell me that what we have right now between us is real, what we are to each other is real. She needs him to do the same. His request isn't as clear.

"I–I…I'm not sure—"

"I want you, Liv," he cuts her off.

Her heart pounds against her chest as he continues. "It's that simple. Do you want me?"

She does want him. She has for so long, but it's nerve wracking to have all she's wanted right here in front of her, giving her the option to take it.

Olivia swallows and nods. "Yes."

Elliot leans in, his lips a hair's breadth away from hers, and she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks when he whispers, "Say it."

"I want you."

His mouth crashes into hers before the final syllable leaves her lips, tugging her closer by her hand, trapping it between their chests. His other wraps around her upper back holding her upright as he plunges ahead.

Gone is the gentle hesitancy from the previous evening. His lips part and he sweeps his tongue through her mouth, catching her surprised whimper and giving her a groan in return.

He tastes like their game night—popcorn and M&Ms and beer—which is so different from the spicy red sauce and cabernet last night. But underneath it all is a taste that is entirely Elliot. She recognizes it this time and knows that she's going to crave it when he leaves.

Amanda was right when she scoffed at Olivia's description of kissing Elliot as nice a couple of weeks ago. There was nothing nice about this. It's wicked and demanding as his tongue possesses hers and he sucks on her lips.

He tilts his head and forces the kiss even deeper. His hand slides up her jaw, past her cheek, and to the back of her head. It tangles in her hair, tugging slightly. Olivia tries to keep up with him, but it's an onslaught. Her free hand twists into the fabric at his shoulder, holding on tightly as he consumes her.

He's leading them right now, and it's wet and somewhat sloppy. Not in an off putting way. It's bold and delicious.

He's greedy, taking as much as he can while he can. He's on borrowed time and he's kissing her like he knows it.

Elliot glides his hand from her shoulders to her lower back, holding her steady as he sits up and leans over her, trying to force her back onto the cushions behind her. Her legs bend awkwardly, and she moves her hand to his chest, fighting gently against his push.

"El," she whispers hesitantly when she separates her mouth from his.

Undeterred, Elliot drags his lips down her cheek to her neck, licking and sucking and nipping. He's not in any one place long enough to leave a mark, but she can feel the scrape of his five o'clock shadow, and she shivers as he makes his way down the sensitive column of her neck.

"Liv," he echoes into her as he traces back up and captures her lips again, trying once more to push her onto her back. "God."

She loses her resolve quickly, yielding to the pressure of his body and laying back against the couch. It's been too long since she's been kissed like this—since she's had a man's weight over her; since she's felt this desired by a man; and since she's wanted a man. Her body thrums as he squeezes at her hip, two of his fingers slipping under her shirt, brushing over the soft skin, still marked from the pellets earlier this summer.

She wants him to push his hands higher, slip all the way under her shirt and touch her, really touch her. She grabs his shirt low on his back, pressuring him to drop his hips to hers so she can feel all of him on her.

Before he does, the soft click of the bathroom door locking washes down her spine like a bucket of cold water.

Using both hands this time, one on his hip and the other squeezed between them on chest, she pushes him back, creating space.

"El," she breathes heavily, pulling back from his kiss. "Noah."

"Wha—" His eyes snap open and he throws a look over his shoulder, afraid to see the boy standing in the entryway. "He's not," Elliot exhales, trying to catch his breath.

"No, no, sorry," Olivia apologizes for the scare as she cups his cheek, forcing him to look back at her.

His gaze returns to hers and it's the first time that she's seen his eyes glassy with desire. His face and neck are flushed crimson. She knows that she's not faring much better. Her entire body is hot and tingling. "I just mean…we've gotta stop. Noah's here, he might…"

"Yeah, no…I mean, you're right." He sits back and chuckles, looking at her as she rights herself on the couch. Reaching up, he tucks an errant lock of hair, one he must have tugged loose just a moment ago, back behind her ear. "I, uh, guess we got carried away."

She grins at him as she sits up. "We? That was all you."

"Maybe it was," he concedes, not looking upset at the accusation at all.

The bathroom door opens just then. They hear Noah's footsteps down the hallway before he peeks around the corner. "Elliot? Are you staying?

A deep blush covers Olivia's cheeks as she jumps up and straightens her shirt. "No, hon. He's just leaving."

Noah frowns, eyeing his mother and Elliot suspiciously. Unease washes over Olivia as she realizes that her son probably senses what was happening just moments before.

He doesn't say anything, though, as he turns and heads back to his room other than a carefree, "K, g'night," that he tosses over his shoulder.

Olivia calls back, "Good night," before turning to Elliot, then to the floor, quickly averting his narrowed eyes.

"I'm leaving?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

Elliot feels the air in the room shifting, uncomfortable tension rushing in as Olivia stiffens. He can sense that she's starting to panic. He's not going to let her push him away just because she's embarrassed or flustered. They are grown adults. They can kiss a little, or a lot, if they want. And he wants. He really wants.

"You weren't planning on staying the night."

"No," he agrees, reaching for her, but she steps back. "But I wasn't heading out the door just yet."

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she looks past him to the clock on the wall. "It's late. I work tomorrow."

Elliot clicks his tongue in and shakes his head, seeing right through her excuse. "You're kicking me out."

"No."

Rather than fight her, Elliot softens his approach, much like he did last night. He knows he should have expected this, the whiplash that only Olivia can give him. But he's only got a few days, so he's not going to let her win this.

"Liv, Can I—"

She's already turning away and walking towards the front door of her apartment before he can start. Elliot follows her quickly, stepping between her and the door. "Let me take you out."

"What?"

"A date. I want to take you on a date," he clarifies, though he's not sure if it's necessary. They were just making out on her couch like horny teenagers (okay, horny teenagers usually get to first base, though it's not like he wasn't trying); a date feels inherently on-brand for that kind of behavior.

"That's what we are doing, right? Dating, sorta?" He says the last word with a grin, trying to bring humor to the conversation.

Olivia doesn't answer.

"Please, let me take you on a date while I'm here," he asks again.

She shakes her head and reaches for the doorknob. "I've got to check in with Martha."

"Kathleen can watch Noah," Elliot offers, covering her hand with his.

"Don't you need to ask her first?"

"Nah," he says with a wave of his hand and stepping closer. He's not going to let her use son as an excuse. And if he knows Kathleen, she will squeal loudly when he tells her that he needs her to watch Noah while he takes Olivia out on a date.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia agrees. "Okay, then. Thursday?"

"Tomorrow," Elliot counters as he allows her to open the door. He wants to kiss her good-bye, on the cheek at least, but he knows she's struggling right now, and pushing too hard could backfire. He just hopes she sorts through her apprehension by tomorrow.

Closing the door behind him, Olivia leans back against the wood. A small gasp, a whimper really, escapes her lips as she tries to hold back tears.

She feels naked and vulnerable and so many other emotions that she can't label.

She and Elliot had kissed, like really kissed, on her couch while Noah was in the next room— almost catching them—and then she'd agreed to go out with him tomorrow night. On a date. Getting dressed up, eating fancy food, kissing good-night or more kind of dating.

In less than a week, he's jetting off to Colorado and then back to Italy for who knows how long. But here he is kissing her and touching her and offering to take her to dinner and making her want all the things she's never been allowed to have.

Olivia can feel her heart pound a fast and irregular beat against her chest, and it's hard to catch her breath. She's sweating and almost trembling. Anxious thoughts begin running through her mind.

How do we do this?

How do we make this work? He's four thousand miles away. He doesn't know when he's going to return for good.

What if he decides that this isn't worth it, that I'm not worth it?

Olivia's not sure she can do this now. They have to work these things out.

It's too much, too fast.

She needs it all to slow down.