I have a 13 year old daughter which means Taylor Swift is the soundtrack of my life…I'm kinda obsessed with the Red album, and "I Almost Do" is one of my favorites. So this little story is loosely based on that song-

" In my dreams you're touching my face, and asking me if I want to try again with you…and I almost do."

-Taylor Swift -

The week sucked. Like the bone tired, never wanting to speak to another human being again kind of sucked. She spent most of her day dealing with the condescending bureaucratic assholes at 1PP. Just when she finished her final meeting, she was called to an abnormally graphic crime scene. Unfortunately, the crime scene wasn't properly secured and the perp came out of nowhere and knifed a crime scene tech. She managed to find a towel to press into the stab wound, but the damn thing bled everywhere and she ended up with blood on her white top, and her pants were soaked in it.

The tech was doing well after being rushed to the hospital. He bled so much because of a nicked artery. Once she knew the tech was alive she returned to the precinct. She needed to shower and change, but Noah was already home, and she didn't want to freak him out coming home covered in blood.

She arrived at the precinct, and dug out the bag that she normally kept a change of clothes in. When she unzipped the bag she found nothing but a pair of shoes. Only then had she remembered she used the clothes a couple weeks ago and forgot to replace them in her bag.

At that point she was ready to scream. She still didn't want to bring home all of the blood, but it wasn't like she could shop either. In complete desperation she decided to dig through a locker she hadn't thought about in years.

Normally, she stayed away from the locker room, but a while back she stashed some things in a corner locker. Her building's gym was under construction for a while so she ended up working out at the precinct for a few weeks. She hoped she left some sort of clothing in the locker.

She seriously doubted that anything was still there, it had been a few years since then, and she figured the cleaning staff would probably clean out abandoned lockers. Turned out, they left them for a long time because she managed to find a pair of exercise leggings and a sports bra.

On a whim she wandered to her old locker. The one she used before her final promotion. She didn't remember leaving anything in there, but she hoped she would get lucky. Her fingers spun the lock. It was old, but she used it so much it was almost like muscle memory. The locker clicked, and she pulled the door open. Tears came to her eyes when recognized the items she had left there. An old NYPD t-shirt, two sizes too big, and an old gray hoodie.

Her fingers drifted over the aged fabric, and thousands of memories assaulted her. All nighters. Stake outs. Messy crime scenes. The sweatshirt had seen it all. It was her go to change of clothes. And it wasn't hers. It was his. Something he left. Something she claimed.

She gingerly removed the sweatshirt from its folded state within the locker. She bit her lip as she tried to hold back more tears. She wished she could call him. She wished things were better between them. Days like this made her want her partner. They made her want her best friend.

She rolled her leggings and sports bra into the sweatshirt. She glanced over to the t-shirt, but decided to leave it for another time. There was something comforting about knowing it was still there. She needed comfort right now.

She wandered to the showers. It was getting later in the evening, and luckily the precinct traffic had died down. Her footsteps echoed as she chose a shower stall and slipped inside.

The warm water did little to ease her tension, but she scrubbed the dried blood from her body the best she could. She wanted to get home and call it a day so she tried to move through the shower quickly. She toweled off just as fast and slipped into the leggings and sports bra. She held the sweatshirt up, savoring the familiar feeling of the fabric against her fingers. With a sigh she slid her arms through the sleeves and zipped the hoodie over her bra. The sleeves were still too large, and she had to push them back a little.

Thankfully she made it out of the precinct unseen- likely because of her abnormal attire. She snuck to her car, sat in the driver's seat and laid her head against the steering wheel. She needed a moment. Just a moment to herself before she returned home to an amazing kid who needed all the attention she could give. Once she felt ready, she turned the key in her ignition, and left the precinct behind.

-000-

Noah had apparently read the room, and did not demand much from her once she got home. He put himself to bed on time and without reminders, and she thanked the universe for letting at least one thing go smoothly with her day.

Once Noah retreated to his room, she did the same. The gray oversized sweatshirt still clung to her frame, and she realized she had very little desire to change out of it. The worn fabric enveloped her like a hug…a hug from someone she wished she could call. Someone she should call.

She shook off the thought and decided to pass on her normal bedtime routine, choosing to brush her teeth and slip between her sheets without doing anything else.

She laid in her bed and took picked up her phone. Her thumb hovered over the call button as her heart pounded nervously. She could reach out. She knew that. He'd been very clear about what he wanted, but she always met him with hesitant apprehension.

It wasn't that she didn't want this…him. She wanted him so badly it physically hurt. And that was the problem. She knew she could call. She could let him in. He could be a part of her life. But what if he left. What if she wasn't what he expected or wanted? God knew she wasn't the easiest person to love. She knew she was nearly always distant and guarded. She held onto things far longer than she should, and her job was her life. She wasn't easy.

But then again, neither was he. She might be guarded, but Elliot swung to the opposite extreme. He was reckless and impulsive, often saying things he didn't mean…or maybe he did mean them, but he always picked the worst possible timing. It would be great to hear that he loved her when one or both of them weren't on the verge of an emotional breakdown. God, the man had incredibly bad timing.

He was temperamental. Sometimes with her, but she could be the same. And that was the thing about her relationship with Elliot. It was real. They may have danced around the truth of things for a quarter century, but they knew each other. They were real with each other… and they loved each other anyway.

Her eyes drifted back to the screen which had timed out and blackened so she could only see her reflection staring back at her. Her heart hurt at the woman she saw there. A woman who was too afraid to take what she wanted. A woman too afraid to be happy.

She sighed and locked her phone before tossing it onto her nightstand. She sighed, knowing she was just playing into the dysfunctional cycle that held her bound. She wanted to break the cycle, problem was, she didn't know how.

-000-

Elliot drummed his fingers on the desk in front of him. His phone sat in the corner of his desk, ominously. He wanted to call. But did she want him to call? Most of the time they fell into a cycle of silence because neither of them knows what the other wants, and ultimately they end up waiting on the other person to call. Neither of them take the first step. Her because she was afraid, and him because he was afraid of scaring her off.

He wanted this to work so badly that it felt all consuming. He didn't want to push, but he just wanted to get through this part so they could be together. Somewhere inside of him it felt like an inevitability. Something bound to happen. Fate.

But he also realized there was a really real chance that she would never be ready. She might never be willing to give him a chance. He hurt her too badly, too many times. And maybe that was why he felt a strong sense of urgency. If they waited too long, if they continued to dance around what they both wanted…he worried she would move on, or worse, realize she would be better off without him.

His mind wandered to moments they managed to spend together over the past few years. His heart stung at some of the memories while others filled him with hope. He sighed and sent a prayer heavenward. He hoped he did at least one thing right in his life, at least one thing that deserved a favor from God.

The clock in the wall ticked the time away. It was getting late. It had long since turned dark outside, but he procrastinated his return home. Nothing waited for him. He had no reason to rush home. He was alone.

-000-

She knew she was dreaming the second she recognized her old apartment. She sighed and her heart pounded in fearful anticipation. The nightmare was on its way. She knew it. Nothing good ever happened here.

She waited for his face to show, bringing with it the accompanying adrenaline. She waited, but this was different. Much different.

Instead of a house of horrors, her apartment looked like it did on a normal day all those years ago. Once she realized she wasn't in danger she poked around. Everything was as it should be. Nothing disturbed. A knock at the door made her flinch, but she approached the door anyway. She opened the door, and instead of finding Lewis, she found the smiling face of her partner. Elliot.

He didn't wait for an invitation inside. She had somehow been transported in time, back to when they trusted each other implicitly, and didn't awkwardly dance around the truth. His hand found her hip and he tugged on the hem of her shirt, urging her to follow him back towards the kitchen and living room. She followed him willing. She trusted him.

Without warning dream Elliot spun, and she crashed into his chest. His arms swept around her to stablize her, but when she settled his arms remained around her. It felt strange, him touching her. They had long ago instituted a no touching policy. It was their unspoken agreement. They both knew. They both felt it. If he touched her…God she would fall right into him. And that was exactly what was happening.

"Liv," his voice remained low, almost desperate. Her mind raced back to the night where he held her in her kitchen. He sounded like that. Exactly like that.

Her chest tightened and she realized she wasn't breathing. Carefully she lifted her eyes up to his face. He stared back and those eyes held her captive, and she felt restrained by his gaze alone.

Her heart pounded furiously as one of his large hands brushed her cheek, and lingered there. "Olivia," his voice remained soft as velvet. "Let's try. I want to try."

"El," her voice held the same softness, but even dream Olivia was terrified. "We can't." She bit her lip. "I can't."

He leaned in, his forehead rested against hers, and their noses brushed. Their lips were so close. So very close. "Please Liv. I know you feel it too. Please." He withdrew a little and cupped her cheek. "I want you…"

The words sort of echoed in her mind, and she felt herself reluctantly being pulled back to consciousness. She fought it, because while that place was confusing, it was warm, and her real world? It could never be described as warm.

Her eyes squinted in the darkness and her hand searched for her phone. Her fingers brushed over the case and she lifted it so she could see the time. 3am. More interesting than the time was the text. The sound must have drawn her out from her loving dream world. She resented the sender a little until she opened the message and read the words.

Elliot: I miss you.

His simple message brought tears to her eyes. Without hesitation she hit the call button. When his low sleepy voice answered, she suddenly realized she didn't have anything to say.

"Got your message," her voice shook nervously. What the hell was she thinking, calling him at three in the morning?

"Oh yeah?" She could almost see him sitting up in his bed. His eyes filled with hope.

"Um. Yeah." Now what. Silence stretched between them. It began to feel awkward. She second guessed herself and stammered. "Sorry I shouldn't have called. Talk to you soon." She removed the phone from her with the intention of hanging up but his voice stopped her.

"Liv wait."

She returned the phone to her ear. "Are you okay?"

Without thinking, she threw out her usual answer. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He sat silently and she knew he didn't believe her. "I'm coming over." He said it like it wasn't up for discussion. "Want me to use my key? So I don't wake up Noah?"

"Ye..yeah," she stammered. "That would be fine."

"Okay. See you in a few," he said without hesitation.

"Okay," she answered and wondered if her brain was short circuiting. Was she really agreeing to this? Where was the Olivia who protested every attempt he made to be there for her, to comfort her. Maybe she was tired of doing everything in her own. Maybe it was finally time to let someone care for her. Just maybe.

Part two coming soon