Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

One step, not much

But it said enough

You kiss on sidewalks

You fight and you talk

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love.

You can hear it in the silence, the silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love, you are in love.

Taylor Swift "You are in Love"

-000-

The sensation of lips on her bare shoulder pulled her from sleep. The world felt soft, and still held a dreamlike quality as she slowly gained awareness.His calloused hand ran the length of her bare body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

She tried to remember a time she felt this relaxed, this at peace. The only memory that could compare was the first night she brought Noah home. The night she knew he was hers. Maybe this was the same. Maybe it wasn't peace at all, but belonging. That night she knew Noah was hers and this night….this night she knew Elliot belonged to her.

His hand worked up her body again, feeling every dip and curve. His fingers skirted across her skin lightly, almost reverently. She sighed and relaxed her back deeper into the warmth of his chest.

His hand slid across the soft skin of her belly and she felt his lips press into her hair. She wove her fingers into his holding his hand against her stomach. He shifted so his lips had better access to the base of her neck. "Olivia," her whispered name slipped from his lips.

She rolled over so she was facing him, and even in the darkness she knew the exact shade of blue staring back at her. Without another thought she lifted her lips to his, moving them against his in a slow lyrical dance.

For a slow eternity, it was just lips and tongue, moving and sliding sensually against one another. But the fire grew. He rolled her on top of him. Her entire naked body pressed against his and his weathered hands gripped her ass. The sensation left her gasping, and she felt like she was falling. She found herself in an exhilarating sort of delirium where all she could see, all she could feel, was him, and it was everything she knew it could be.

-000-

"Damn it!"

Olivia's eyes popped open and the first thing she noticed was the light streaming through the bedroom window. Her next awareness was the smell of something burning lofting in from the kitchen.

She stretched her arms above her head and rolled her neck a couple times before slipping out of Elliot's bed. She quickly found his t-shirt carelessly discarded on the floor, and flipped it right side out before tugging it over her head. She knew her hair was probably a wreck, but it didn't stop the smile that snuck across her face.

"Shit!"

Olivia opened the bedroom door, hoping to find the source of all the cursing. She had to laugh when she came around the corner to find Elliot swinging a cookie sheet near his smoke detector in an attempt to clear the air enough to keep it silent.

Her eyes drifted to the counter where she found the source of all the smoke. Two pieces of charred toast had been tossed haphazardly onto the granite surface.

With an amused smile she sat at one of the barstools and leaned an elbow on the cool surface. She placed a fist beneath her chin and asked, "So…whatcha doing?"

He rolled his eyes and tossed the cookie sheet into the sink. He moved with purpose and in an instant his lips were on hers, kissing her soundly.

When he withdrew his eyes glowed with the same happiness her heart seemed to be bursting with. "Making breakfast…er…at least I was."

She dropped a quick kiss on his lips. "I think I should take over."

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I'm not sure you cook any better than I do."

"Well at least I can make toast without setting every smoke detector in the house off…" she teased.

He groaned, but allowed her to move around him. She tossed more toast in the toaster, this time turning the cook time down. She could see his gaze through the muddled reflection on the toaster. She turned and gripped the counter with both hands, leaning back into it. "What?" She cocked her head playfully.

He found his way across the kitchen and let his large hands settle on her hips. His cheek brushed hers as he spoke in her ear. "I missed you."

She felt her heart pound at his admission, and she returned the sentiment. "I missed you too…I…" she stopped herself. It had been a beautiful evening followed by a beautiful morning, and she didn't want to bring up past grievances, but she knew there were some things that she needed to say if they were ever going to truly move forward with their relationship. She started the sentence again, swallowing back her fear. "More than just the past six months."

She felt his grip on her hips tense slightly. "I'm sorry. I…there's not a day that passes that I don't regret leaving. God Liv. I missed you so damn much."

"Then why did you go?" Her voice cracked on the last syllable as her emotion began to rise. The question had long burned in the recesses of her heart. She held it back, never asking because she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. But she needed to know. If she was ever going to trust him she needed to know what compelled him to break her heart and shake her world the first time he left.

He took a sharp breath when the question left her lips. His answer was immediate and unrehearsed. It was the truth. Heavy implications and all. "I was in love with you."

It was her turn to suck in a tight breath. The admission wasn't a shock or surprise, not really. Somewhere deep inside she knew he loved her then. "And your solution for that was to just what? Just leave without a word?" He suddenly felt too close. She stepped away from him, but his hand caught her arm.

"I wasn't…" he started the thought, but fumbled as he tired to finish it. "I wasn't. I wasn't good enough." He shook his head and let out a frustrated groan. "You deserved better than me Liv. After that shooting…if I stayed you would have gone down with me, and…I couldn't do that to you. You deserved better than me."

She wanted to punch him. "And you didn't think I should get to make that decision?" She felt tears sting the corners of her eyes. "What about me? You just made this life altering decision and left me behind. You say you did it for me, but you didn't give me a choice or a say in the matter."

He tugged her hand, and motioned for the couch. "Let's sit."

She kept her hand in his as he led her to the couch. He settled in the corner and laid his back against the arm of the couch. He pulled her down next to him until she was in a semi reclining position using his chest as a back rest. He kept an arm firmly around her, and even with the turmoil of the conversation ahead, she felt safe. They were making steps forward, and however painful it was they needed to get through it together.

He found her hand and flipped it so her palm was up. He started tracing light aimless patterns with his fingers. "If I would have come to you…I'd I would have told you how I felt and what I wanted to do…what would you have said?"

She closed her eyes, and imagined what she would have said all those years ago. What would she have said if he came to her before he left. Would she really have let him go or would she have followed him to the end of the earth, defending him every step of the way? She knew what she wanted to say, but the truth was clear. "I would have asked you to stay," her voice was low, barely audible. She tilted her head up so she could see his face. "If I had asked…if I asked you to stay…would you have stayed?"

"Yes," he answered without any hesitation.

She had another question. One she had never dared to ask. Maybe it was because she didn't want to know the answer. Maybe she didn't want verbal confirmation that she was second best…or worse…maybe she didn't want to know that he would have burned his life to the ground if she had asked. The words escaped her lips before she could think the better of them. "If I…if I kissed you, if I told you how I felt, you know, back then…would you have chosen me?"

She regretted her words the minute they left her mouth. No good could come from a question like that. The pained look that shadowed his face made her backpedal. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know the answer." She closed her eyes and suddenly she felt his strong hands moving her so they now rested chest to chest.

His hand cupped her cheek, and his eyes relayed years of complete adoration. They both knew what he would have chosen. She sent him back to his family time and time again because she knew. She knew that if she said the word he would leave it all behind for her.

"You were my best friend." He shook his head. "No, you were so much more than that. I loved you then as much as I love you now." He kissed her lips softly. "I wouldn't have been satisfied with just one kiss." His voice came out a husky whisper. "If you had said the word…I think you know what I would have chosen." He pressed skirting kisses down her cheek. "You were always everything I wanted and everything I couldn't have."

She brushed her lips across his jaw line and dropped a whisper of a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Not anymore," she whispered. She felt it in every corner of her soul. Throughout time and space, he loved her, and she was certain she would love him until her last dying breath.