After several minutes of discovery, they pull apart, all heaving chests and raspy breaths and racing pulses.

"Liv," Elliot whispers, "you have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that."

"Mmm, let me guess… twenty-three years?"

"Give or take."

They fall into another minutes-long frenzy before Liv begrudgingly breaks their embrace.

"El, we should stop. You're drunk."

"I'm not. That was my second glass when you walked in. Promise."

"Okay, well you're not in the right mindset for this."

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life, Liv. I'm sorry about today, I had no right-"

"-Exactly. You don't have a right…" She pauses, not looking for a fight, especially after what just transpired. "I understand, I do, but I have to do my job."

"Your job didn't need to be in the line of bullets today, Liv. I worry about you, I love you. I can't let you get hurt, especially because of me. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

She sees the hurt and absolute terror behind his eyes and in his voice. He's lost so much. He can't lose her too.

"Come here." She grabs his hand and leads him to the couch. She coaxes him to sit first and then settles in next to him. He wraps his arm around her as she drapes an arm across his chest and presses her ear to his beating heart. Strong, steady, fast. The thrum becomes the baseline to her soul as she gathers the strength to unpack a decade's worth of missing him; to find ways to calm his tortured soul. Before she can begin, his panicked voice is a knife slicing through their shared silence.

"Sometimes I wonder if I should go back to Rome."

Her heart palpitates and a faint chill rushes through her body. She manages to whisper a faint, "Why?"

"I feel like I've done nothing but cause you pain and place you in danger. You were much better off without me here."

She knows this is just the PTSD talking, yet her voice returns a bit frantic for her liking. "That's not true. Elliot, you have no idea how wrong you are. That's your solution? To walk out of my life again?"

" I don't want to hurt you," he presses.

"Then don't." She's firm in both voice and touch, holding onto him as if she's his anchor, steadying his raging anxieties., They are quiet, solemnly allowing the comfort of their newfound touch to soothe and deflect.

"Olivia, I thought of you every single day. I dreamed of you, I saw you in every painting, every piece of architecture, every Roman statue. I prayed for so many things for you. For your happiness, your safety, and one day, for your forgiveness. I was such a mess, and I just…"

"Gave yourself an ultimatum. Made a sacrifice."

She feels him nod in agreement.

"Do you know who set me straight and comforted me after you left?"

"Cragen."

"No," she huffs in an indignant laugh, "Cragen played the tough love approach. Forced me to clean out your desk and train your replacements. Told me I couldn't keep your memory as a shrine in the squad room."

"Damn… so, Fin then?"

"Fin has become my best friend in a lot of ways. My brother. But he's not good with this stuff. Didn't want to add to what I was already going through. No, actually, it was John."

"Munch?"

She nods into his chest. "He sat me down and gave me some words of wisdom that have stuck with me all these years. He said that every choice becomes a sacrifice. We make them day in and day out. Choices and sacrifices. He told me that your choice to leave me was your ultimate sacrifice."

Elliot plants a kiss in her hair. "It was."

"I've had a decade to think, El. Oregon. Computer Crimes. Sealview. I made choices too. To leave, to run, to withhold truths. Choices that hurt us, and sacrifices that almost destroyed our friendship."

"Why did you leave, Liv?"

She lets the silence speak before murmuring, "You know why, Elliot. The same reason you did." She reaches for his hand again, squeezing it firmly, her lifeline to the present. "John told me that you loved me, but I already knew."

With these words she takes a chance, feeling the need to be closer to him, and flips herself so she's straddling his lap. Cradling his face, peppering light kisses along his neck and jawline, she slowly, painstakingly tries to pull him back from the depths of his despair.

"Jenna wasn't your fault, El. Neither was today or anything else that happened in our partnership or time apart. We can't let our sacrifices dictate our past or our future."

Elliot places his hands atop hers and meets her gaze. "I love you, Olivia."

"I know. I love you too."

"I'm gonna need you to keep saying that to me, okay?" His eyes are light and playful, the first glimmer of himself returning.

"Well, I'm gonna need you to keep kissing me like that."

"Is that an order, Captain?" He's now grinning from ear to ear, his typical cocky

She pins his arms back against the couch. She can be a possessive bastard too. "Got a little rank kink there, Detective Stabler?"

He groans into her open mouth. "You have no idea."