A/N: Another request… my prompt here was "date night at a rooftop bar" and it became...this. And, my God, was this a labor of love. :) Ask JennBenson, who once again, was a fantabulous sounding board.

Keep those requests coming.

I won't bore you any more. Let's get to it, shall we?

##

Olivia steps off the elevator on the 15th floor, smiling politely and murmuring excuse me as she squeezes past a gaggle of younger women huddled outside the entrance to the bar.

Making her way into the main atrium, her eyebrows lift in mild surprise. It's not packed; sweaty people wearing too much cologne aren't jostling their way through the crowd, shouting over music that's just a little too loud. It's actually kind of…quiet. She can hear soothing, instrumental tones coming from speakers that she can't place, and there's more foliage up here than she's used to seeing outside of one of the parks.

If it weren't for the signage before she walked in, she would wonder if she was in the right place; the atmosphere here so far removed from the places she was used to meeting him.

Gripping her clutch tightly, she casually makes her way further in, brown eyes scanning the bar, figuring it won't be hard to spot her date's silver hair amidst the small crowd of what appear to be mostly 30-somethings.

Not finding him, she turns. There are a lot of small tables, loveseats, oversized ottomans and the like scattered under the glass ceiling of the atrium, and she wonders if maybe he's already gotten a drink, settled in somewhere to wait for her…

But then she spots him and she swallows appreciatively as her mouth runs dry. He's leaning up against the railing on the terrace opposite her, braced against it by his forearms, which are exposed thanks to the sleeves he's rolled up on his coral Oxford shirt. The material of his shirt is thin, the temperature in the city only just starting to reflect a shift from summer to fall, and she can see the muscles in his back as it stretches across his shoulders.

Her hands have been on those shoulders; she's felt the muscles rippling beneath her fingertips.

He's traded in the usual suit pants for charcoal slacks, and as good as he looks in the suits he wears everyday, she's thoroughly enjoying the step he's taken outside the box tonight.

Olivia's eyes make their way back up his body as she begins to move purposefully toward him, a little extra swing in her hips, a predator who has found her prey.

He chooses that exact moment to turn around.

##

Blue eyes connect instantly with brown, and he feels himself smirk slightly before his jaw drops as his eyes take her in completely.

She is sex on heels.

The ivory blouse she's wearing plays in perfect contrast to her tanned, olive complexion, baring just enough of her cleavage to be flirty without being distasteful. The material flows against her skin in the slight breeze wafting through the air as she stalks toward him, black pants clinging to her curves, stopping just above the ankle to highlight royal blue heels.

She's pulled out all the stops tonight.

With every step she takes toward him, she feels a little more exposed, bare under the heat of his gaze.

As his eyes drift back to her face, her head ducks down slightly and he sees a knowing smirk curve her lips. She knows exactly what she's doing to him, but she's never been one to easily accept compliments, and he's paying her the biggest one of all with the look in his eyes right now. Appreciation. Adoration. Lust.

Finally, they're close enough to where she can reach out and touch him, and she does, grasping his forearm as he extends his right arm to her, both leaning in for a chaste, but lingering, kiss.

They separate, and she wipes the smudges of her light pink lip gloss off the side of his mouth with her right thumb, while the other traces the edge of the cuffed sleeve on the forearm she still grips.

"I love this color on you," she smiles. She would swear there wasn't a color on the spectrum that didn't make his eyes pop, and this one was no different, the effect even more staggering now that she was close to him.

"Thanks," he smiles at her, his expression is cocky, earning a playful head shake from her, but he quickly turns more serious as he turns her compliment around on her. "You look gorgeous."

A rogue strand of hair blows into her face, giving her the perfect opportunity to brush it behind her ear and deflect his comment, but she smiles almost reticently in acknowledgement. "Have you been here long?"

Ed shakes his head, leaning back against the railing as he meets her eyes again. "Just a few minutes." He lowers the arm that she still has in her grasp, and naturally, their fingers find a home between one another's. He tugs gently against them. "Get you a drink?"

She nods as he pushes off the railing and backs toward the bar, asking if she feels like wine or bourbon. "Bourbon," she tells him with a smile, her fingers still lightly gripping his. She doesn't need to add on the rocks. He knows.

He doesn't let go of her hand until he absolutely has to.

##

He returns from the bar with their drinks and she turns so her back is against the railing; smiling her thanks as she reaches for the glass of bourbon he hands her.

This place is a definite step above where they usually end up on their dates, the selection obviously more deliberate on his part, rather than the impromptu requests to meet up for drinks after work. The bar itself, inside the atrium, is dimly lit, but it's not dingy. The vibe is more…romantic. Soft.

She leans into him flirtatiously. "Tucker," she starts, her voice low. "You've already seen me naked. You don't need to keep wooing me."

Ed blushes, and he laughs breathily into his own drink as he surveys the landscape in front of them for a moment before turning to face her again, her brown eyes a piercing shade of caramel in the light of the setting sun. "See, that's where you're wrong…"

"You haven't seen me naked?" She raises her eyebrow to tease him. "I could swear that was you..."

He shakes his head with a laugh. "Such a smartass," he quips. "Some things never change." Early on, he may not have been so bold as to joke with her like this, but they're settling into a comfortable banter; both confident enough in who they are and how they feel to joke about the darker elements of their shared history.

"Some things do," she challenges delicately, a smile in her eyes, tipping her glass to him in a silent acknowledgement of where they are, what this is, and…what it's becoming. It's been building for months, moving slowly as they relearn each other, embrace the new, redraw the lines that had been in play for over a decade.

Ed's gaze is intense on her and she deflects under his scrutiny, lifting her glass to her lips for a healthy sip.

"Touché," he says, smirking. "But what I meant was… a woman like you should always be wooed."

Her eyes meet his and, not for the first time since their relationship started evolving, she is thrown by his intensity. She doesn't quite know what to make of it yet, but there's a connection between them that is almost frightening; the air between them always feeling so…charged, electric.

She continues the teasing tone, despite the tension that's building between them. "And how'd you find this place?"

Ed shifts his feet, a smile gracing his lips and her stomach does a flip. She's seen him smile more in the last few months than she has the last 15 years; the sight of it is still new enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

"I think I'm offended by your tone, Lieutenant." He puts a hand to his chest in mock affront. "What if this was one of my haunts?"

Olivia lifts an eyebrow, lips curving into a half-smile as she takes in the white lights strung along the terrace, the wicker love seats with pastel cushions, lounge chairs book-ended by planters giant enough to bury a body in, the hammocks…

"Is it, now?" Her tone is disbelieving.

He looks at her seriously for a moment before a grin cracks his composure. "No, it's not. But," he lets the back of his hand brush against her upper arm and she can't suppress a shiver at this unexpected, yet deliciously intimate touch, "you deserve something classier than the dive bars we end up in all the time," he shrugs. "I overheard one of the kids talking about taking his girlfriend here; thought we'd give it a shot." He squares his shoulders, looking at her confidently. "Try something new."

Olivia bites her lip through a smile, clinking her glass against his to toast. "To trying something new."

He doesn't miss the double meaning, and he's pretty sure his heart just skipped a beat.

"It doesn't seem that crowded," Ed observes, craning his head around some of the larger decorations. "Wanna go find somewhere to sit for a while?"

"Sure." They walk side-by-side, shoulders bumping every few steps, in no real hurry. She can feel him watching her as she takes it all in, the view of the city from up here, the other patrons.

There's no question this place draws a younger crowd, but she doesn't feel uncomfortable or out of place. She feels right at home here, with him.

They stumble upon an empty loveseat off in a corner, and Ed shoots her an inquisitive look. "This alright?"

"Perfect," she says. She sits down, folding her right leg underneath her and angling her body so she's facing him when he sits beside her.

They sip their drinks quietly, neither worried about a lull in conversation because they both know there's a lot to be said in silence sometimes. Her eyes are all over the place, taking in the scenery; looking out toward the skyline, buildings lit up against the backdrop of a fiery sunset sky. The altitude creates a light breeze, and unlike the street-level, it bears no traces of the garbage on the city streets. She can hear life moving at the typical New York City-speed 15 floors below, but up here, reality is suspended, even if temporarily. It's hard not to feel a sense of peace.

"This was a good choice, Ed," she concludes, smiling almost shyly up at him. "It's beautiful up here."

"You're beautiful," he rasps quickly, his eyes never wavering from hers. She can tell even before he makes a move toward her that he's going to kiss her and she licks her lips reflexively in anticipation.

His eyes dart from hers down to her lips, and he reaches a hand to her face, pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear before letting his hand reach for the back of her neck, pulling her into him.

Olivia's eyes are open and fixed on his, watching him as he stares at her mouth, before she finally lets her lids drift shut at the first whisper of his breath against her lips. The first touch is light; so much so she's not sure he's actually made contact. But then she feels his grip tighten against the back of her neck and she leans a little bit further into him of her own volition, wanting more.

His lips wrap around her plump lower one, still shiny from the gloss she'd applied before they met up. He suckles lightly before releasing it with a pop and pulling back far enough that she opens her eyes lazily, instantly connecting with his.

She licks her lips again and can't tell if the bourbon she tastes on them is from her drink or his, or perhaps some luscious combination of them both. Her mouth settles into a smirk and she lifts a hand to his nape, their positions mirror images of each other as she leans in to press a more passionate kiss to his lips.

They are still finding their way in this relationship; still learning how to be around each other, how much affection is too much, how far is too far? And while they've kissed a lot, and touched some, nearly had sex on a few occasions that were thwarted by work (both his and hers) and her son, she finds that the novelty of his mouth on hers is far from wearing off. He evokes something in her, something she hasn't yet been able to pin down, but she knows it makes her feel more alive than she can remember feeling with any other guy.

But then again…by now, she knows that Tucker is not just any other guy.

##

They people-watch, making light, hushed conversation between sips of bourbon and stolen kisses. She feels…lighter, somehow. With him, she can shed everything else; give the darkness a little less space to occupy in her brain. Unwittingly, he helps her quiet her mind and let it all go.

"How's Noah?" He asks her about him often when they're alone like this; partially because he has grown to care deeply for her son, and partially because he's discovered over time that nothing makes her light up as brightly or vividly as when she is talking about him.

Olivia is beautiful, devastatingly so. But motherhood was clearly her best light; her warmest color.

"He's fantastic." She beams at him and it's infectious. He literally has no choice but to smile back at her, lacing his fingers with hers when she reaches her hand out into the neutral space between them. "He was asking about you earlier," she shares.

"Yeah?"

She nods, raising the pitch of her voice to mimic Noah's. "When Tuck come to play again?"

Ed lifts their joined hands briefly before lowering them down to the cushion again. "He's a cutie," he says softly. He looks up at her somewhat cautiously. "Whaddaya say we do something tomorrow, the three of us?"

"He'd love that." She smiles warmly, thankful that he still asks before inserting himself in her weekend plans. As invested as she is in them, in where they're headed, she's still protective of her time with Noah, and Ed has done nothing but respect that since the second the dynamic of their relationship started shifting.

Before Tucker became Ed, life had a tendency to be enough of a juggling act between her work and caring for Noah. It hadn't been easy finding a place for someone new in that delicate balance; but it's worth it to her. Ed is worth it to her. And if she's being honest, he helps her manage it all better.

She brings her glass to her lips for a sip and eyes him coyly over the rim. "So would I."

His eyes darken a shade at her admission and he turns his gaze to hear nearly empty glass. "Refill?"

She quirks an eyebrow at him, "Why not…?"

##

Ed gets up to get their second round and she stands making her way around the back of the loveseat they were sitting on and nestling herself into the corner of the railing behind it, overlooking W 58th below. She hears the horns from the traffic, watches the pedestrians as they make their way down the sidewalks.

The sun was nearly down and dusk was settling over the city like a warm blanket, cloaked in softness.

He finds her in the corner when he returns a few moments later, announcing his presence with a soft hey behind her so he wouldn't startle her. He's sensitive to things like that, automatically, and she's grateful.

"Thanks," she says, taking the glass from him and raising it to her lips.

She doesn't move from her niche, leaned into the corner, and he settles to her right, his back to the railing. Rather than training his eyes on the view she's soaking in, his gaze is fixed on her. In the light of the sunset, looking at her in profile he's blown away by her beauty.

She's got a few years on a lot of the girls in here tonight – this place obviously caters to a younger crowd – and, yeah, he might be biased…but hell if she doesn't put them all to shame. It's not even just that she's gorgeous; but to cap that off she oozes this quiet confidence that's unlike anything he's ever seen.

"This is a great spot," she murmurs, glancing at him and narrowing her eyes playfully when she notices he's already looking at her. "Whatcha lookin' at, Tucker?"

Most of the time, she calls him Ed. But every once in a while, usually when she's teasing or flirting with him, she'll whip out the 'Tucker' again. It's a different connotation than he's used to, and he loves it.

Grinning lazily, he shifts, leaning into her so his chest is millimeters from her back. He puts a calming hand on her hip, wanting to be closer to her but not wanting to make her feel caged in. "Just takin' in the view," he says innocently, and he smiles at her scoff of disbelief.

"You think you're so smooth," she drawls.

He can't see it, but somehow he just knows she's rolling her eyes.

He doesn't know it yet, but she's putty in his hands.

##

Ed drains the remaining liquid from his glass and eyes hers. Her wrist is rotating, the ice in the glass swirling amidst watered down bourbon, and they're both entranced by the movement for a moment before be smiles, forcing his eyes up to her face. "Feel like one more?"

She takes a breath and lets it out slowly, checking the time on her phone. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she debates. It's getting late; they really should call it a night. But, in a not-so-shocking turn of events given the last few months, she's not quite ready for the night to end.

"I should really get back to relieve Lucy," she explains, and she smiles when she sees disappointment flash in his eyes briefly before he can hide it from her. "But do you want to come back with me? I have wine."

His face brightens as he nods, standing up before offering his hand to help her to her feet. He is almost…shy; and surprisingly gallant, gentlemanly. Not quite what she expected of him, but she's enjoying this new side. She sees a little bit more of it the more they get to know each other.

The streets are crowded, and as they leave the hotel, he gestures in front of him for her to lead the way. In a move that still surprises him, she reaches for his left hand with her right, intertwining their fingers. She starts out into the throngs of people that crowd W 58th street, weaving between groups of pedestrians, her grip tight on his hand so they don't get separated.

As they approach 10th avenue, she bends her elbow, holding their joined hands against the small of her back as they wait for the light to change. The gesture means that he's standing literally pressed up against her side, and as people move about on the corner, bumping into them to get through and around the crowd, they are repeatedly jostled into each other. Their eyes meet, and they both smile before he consciously moves a little bit closer; it's a protective gesture, one she doesn't miss. He's trying to shield her.

She leans up determinedly, her lips landing in a sloppy kiss on his chin. Here, now, it's the best she can do. But when they get back to her place, she wants nothing more than to melt into him...

##

A/N: Show of hands (& reviews), who wants to see what happens next?