Disclaimer: No. Not mine. Sigh. But CM is. Actually, he's not. But I can dream right?

Author's note:

Hello there! This story has been sitting in my mind for about three months, and was finally typed up at the insistence of Nettie and listening over and over to "Home" by Daughtry. God that song is such a great EO song.

I haven't written a second chapter to this, and I don't really know if I will. But, if enough of you guys convince me otherwise, I'll post a second, SMUTTIER, chapter sometime soon. Promise! So leave me a review, let me know, and I'll get on it.

Hannah, you're crazy, just like me! You better update Hallmark! Or I'll...I'll...:shakes fist: Yeah, that's right! I didn't really delete this; I was just messing with you. A lot. And I apologise. Really I do. But it was FUNNY! Yeah, me posting 500 words? AS IF! LOL!

Sarah, here it is, as promised. Thanks for all you're fabulous emails!

And to Nettie, who never fails to impress me with her wonderful beta'ing skills. And just herself in general. You're amazing.

So enjoy lots, review lots, and I'll love you lots!

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He watches the rain trickle down the windshield, counting to three in his head until the patterns are swept away by the windscreen wiper. Usually, he'd watch as the water coalesced, mesmerised as the drops etched patterns on the cool glass.

But tonight, he is watching beyond it; his eyes scanning the various people exiting the doors of the terminal. He can't see her there.

Not yet.

It's not like she's looking for him anyway.

He'd practically had to bribe Casey for information regarding Olivia's arrival information.

He continues to count, hoping that somewhere in the next five minutes; he'll find the courage to actually get out of the car. His excuse to himself is that it's raining and there was no use in him getting wet without knowing for sure when Olivia would come through the doors.

Hell, he's not even sure she's coming at all.

He's not certain of much at the moment.

The past two months without Olivia could best be described as a blur. But despite the speed at which the time has flown, he remembers everything, because he hates the person he is without Olivia at his side.

He wants to be angry she wasn'tthere for him to turn to when his divorce from Kathy wasfinalised; but he can't remember the time they had last engaged in such personal conversation.

Forget personal, he can't even think of a recent time when they'd last had a civilised conversation.

He shifts in the car seat, trying to stimulate some blood flow in his leg. It fell asleep somewhere between the time the group of Japanese tourists dashed past him and when the last American Airlines plane had landed.

A security guard passes his window, looking inside the car in vague curiosity. Obviously, he's seen the NYPD parking permit in the windshield; and in any case, the rain is too heavy to bother asking any questions.

Which is good, he thinks. He doesn'tknow ifhe can handle any form of interrogation at the moment. He'd already lost his temper at Dani that afternoon. After sharing a kiss he now deeply regrets, he knows she wants more. If Olivia wasn't coming home tonight, there was every chance he would have ended up at Dani's apartment after her invitation two days ago.

He didn't have those sorts of feelings for Dani; but with her, it was less complicated. And God knows he could have used a night, no matter the consequences, to forget about the constant ache he wasfeeling in Olivia's absence.

But he knows he'd regret it, and oddly, on some level, he feels he would be betraying Olivia. His heart clenches at that. He knows he should feel guilty it's not his wife's face stopping him, but he doesn't.

Because it stopped being his wife's face which affected him a long time ago.

And it's the face which just appeared from behind therevolving doors of the terminal that will continue to affect him for many years to come.

Olivia.

She pauses just outside the door, almost as though she's thinking about something she might have left on the plane. He unbuckles his seatbelt, and pulls the keys out of the ignition. The wipers pause in the middle of the wind-screen, and he panics momentarily at the thought of losing sight of her.

The power of the rain takes him by surprise, and he squints against the wind howling around him. He almost slips on the gutter, the hood of a car saving him from falling flat on his ass.

Olivia is still standing just to the left of the doors, but she's looking at him now. Even in the mass of bodies and pounding rain, she's able to find him; to feel his presence.

She's not smiling, and Elliot wonders if she might just jump into a taxi and ignore him completely.

Before he knows it, his feet have carried him to within a foot of her and he can see in her eyes how tired she is. And he's willing to bet anything that it's not from the jetlag.

Her hair has grown, and it falls around her face in tight curls, her bangs brushing her eyelashes as she cocks her head to the side, her eyes looking him up and down.

"What are you doing here?" It's not accusatory, but he can hear traces of lingering anger behind her words. She's probably pissed at Casey for crumbling under his intensive questioning.

He shrugs his shoulders non-committally. "Heard you were coming back."

She narrows her eyes and her fringe shifts. "Not from me."

She steps around him and into the rain, the roof above them offering little protection as the wind seemed to pick up speed. He follows her across the street and into the half-empty car-park, holding his hands above his eyes to stop the rain from stinging them.

"Liv...Olivia. Where are you going?" She keeps walking, her suitcase unsteady behind her.

"To find a taxi so I can go home Elliot."

No El. Just Elliot. That alone kills him.

"I came to take you home, Liv." His voice scratches at his throat and it leaves his voice barely audible in the driving rain.

But she hears, and his breath quickens as she stops mid-stride, her back rigid. A reaction he would expect if he had hurled an insult at her. She swings around, the handle of her suitcase falling from her grasp. It teeters for a second before collapsing into a puddle; but she doesn't notice.

She's too busy moving slowly towards him.

"What are you doing here Elliot? I mean, really doing here?"

He knows the answer to that question without even thinking about it. But how do you tell your partner of eight years that being apart from her tore at your insides more than being away from your ex-wife?

How was he supposed to tell her that he was filled with guilt because in a moment of weakness, he had pushed his new partner against her SUV and kissed her just to feel something?

How was he supposed to tell Olivia, who was fixing him with a burning glare, he loved her despite all the shit they'd been through?

"I missed you Olivia."

Whatever she was expecting it wasn't that. He watches her eyes widen, her mouth falling open slightly at his words. He knows this is what he should've told her the first time she left him; when she had moved two floors up to computer crimes because it was too complicated between them.

She had given him ample opportunity to do so. He had punched that prick Blaine square in the face because he wasn't Olivia. Because his wasn't the back he was supposed to be protecting.

She had visited him in the locker room as he was changing his bloody and torn shirt, and she had offered him the chance to get her back. He didn't deserve it, or her, but she had given it to him.

But he was an idiot, and still is in fact.

Her bottom lip trembles and her eyes focus on a plane taking off somewhere behind him. He wonders if maybe she's thinking if things would have been different if she had stayed.

Because he sure as hell is.

Her eyes fall back to meet his and her uncertainty is replaced with defensiveness. ""You know what you missed, Elliot? You missed me cleaning up after all the mistakes you made. You missed having someone you could use as your emotional punching bag," her voice breaks at the end of the sentence but she continues her verbal barrage. "So screw you and your fucking guilty conscience."

He imagined this scenario going a little differently. It wasn't like he expected her to run to him like they did in those Hollywood movies his daughter's were obsessed with. But he wanted some sort of acknowledgement on her behalf that he'd taken a huge step in trying to make things right between them.

She's still again, her arms folded defensively, and she's waiting for him to make the next move. The fact is, he doesn't have one. He's already told her he missed her and he's not going to stand in the teeming rain all night begging her to change her mind. If there's one thing he knows about Olivia, it's she's stubborn and resolute as hell. He knows this because he's exactly the same. So he does the only thing he knows will evoke some sort of reaction from her.

He provokes her.

"You know what Olivia?" He rests his hands on his hips, his voice rasping out; fighting the cold. "Find your own way home. You're right." He turns to make his way back to the car, "you always fucking are."

He knows without turning that Olivia is right on his heels, her bag remaining forgotten in the quick-building puddle.

"Don't you talk to me like that you bastard." He turns and is momentarily caught off guard by the sadness in her eyes. "You have no right to stand there and tell me you missed me and then turn the hell around and pretend like you never said it in the first place."

Shoulders shrug and he has no answer. Again.

When had they stopped talking to each other? When had speaking to each other become so hard. He hates it. Sometimes, after he closes the door to his apartment, after he downs a glass of whiskey, he thinks about the day he and Olivia spent toeing the line. He wonders if anything would be different had they simply talked to each other.

If they had opened their mouths and said something, anything, other than words that hurt.

Watching her now, hair plastered to the sides of her face, cheeks pink from the blustering wind; he's never wanted anyone, anything, this much.

Not even his wife.

"What do you want me to do, Olivia? What the fuck more do you want me to do? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Huh?" He advances on her, but she stands her ground. A distant part of his brain admires her for that.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child, Elliot; like I'm one of your daughters." She shakes her head, her hair dripping. "I don't need you to do anything. I don't need you anymore."

He remains still, his eyes searching hers. "Bullshit."

Her face turns up to his despite the heaviness of the rain around them. "I didn't miss you Elliot."

He hopes the pang in his gut isn't visible on his face, but it's hard to disguise when you feel like you've been shot through the stomach. He doesn't want to believe her, but for the first time in a long time he can't get a read on what her eyes are telling him. He wasn't expecting that, and she knows it because her lip is curling into what resembles a self-satisfied smirk.

And because he was an idiot, and because he was no good at rectifying a perfectly salvageable situation, he says the first thing in retaliation. The first thing he knows will hit her just as squarely in the jaw.

The first thing that would hurt her just as much as he was hurting right now.

"I kissed Dani."

Hurt; strong and obvious flits across Olivia's face. But it's gone almost as quickly as it arrives, and he knows it reflects his reaction to her earlier comment. Her lip curls again, arms folded under her bust; the stance Olivia takes when she wants to seem as though she's unaffected.

"Your partner?" He can't tell if she's crying, because there is far too much rainrunning down her skin.

But he does know her voice has become deeper; almost like she's trying to stop herself from becoming any more emotional.

"Yeah," low and rumbling; like the sound of the distant thunder.

She looks uncomfortable, her eyes beginning to dart in the area behind him again. "Why did you tell me? You're free to do whatever the hell you want; it's none of my business."

He takes a step towards her again, ignoring the water seeping through his shoes and into his socks. "I regret it now, Olivia, I do."

"Shut-up." It's comes out as a hiss; and standing this close he can see the tears that have filled her eyes. "Just shut the hell up."

"You were gone, Olivia, and I didn't know when you were coming back." He swallows thickly, trying to keep his emotions down. "And I didn't know if you were even going to come back at all."

Olivia's hand swipes quickly at her eye. "I was undercover Elliot; I couldn't break ranks to reassure you I was coming back."

He shakes his head. "One call, Olivia! One call!"

Olivia flinches at his words, and her hand is rubbing at her eye again. "And what did you want me to say to you?" She manages to grit the sentence out, her bottom lip trembling again. "What did you want me to say to you Elliot? What did you want to say to me? You wanted to call me and tell me that you fucked your partner 'cause you couldn't get any from your wife?"

The way Olivia's eyes widen after she gets her sentence out tells him she knows she's just stepped over the line. It would've hurt less if she'd hit him. Twice. But he knows if they keep this up, they'll lose everything between them, and that thought alone scares him more than anything has in a long time.

"I wanted to talk to you, Olivia, because I needed to know you were coming back to me." He makes sure to keep his eyes firmly trained on hers. He needs her to understand this. "I needed to tell my best friend my divorce was finalised and that I needed her support."

He can now see a clear distinction between the rain and Olivia's tears. And he wonders if she can tell that he's crying now as well. But he needs to get this out.

Now.

"I needed to tell my partner, I missed her and that I made a huge mistake in kissing her stand-in because I needed to feel something other than anger and loneliness."

"Elli..." She breaks off, her arms wrapping tighter around her middle.

"I had to let you know, Liv, that the reason I regretted it, was because it wasn't you."

His heart is beating out of his chest, his hands shaking, but the feeling which had been weighing him down since Olivia left him is gone. Who knew that words could be so cathartic?

Olivia is still looking at him, her head shaking slightly. "Elliot. We can't..."

"Why the hell not?" He grabs her shoulders, hard enough to keep her grounded, light enough for her to step back and away.

But back and away is not an option.

"You're missing your family Elliot, so your mind isn't completely clear. You don't know what you want."

He moves his right hand to her freezing cheek, his thumb brushing away the mixture of rain and tears. "You know what, Liv? For the first time in three years, I know exactly what I want."

She looks at him warily before she moves to turn away from him. But his hand catches her forearm before she gets the chance to go anywhere.

And he hugs her. He closes the space that has slowly suffocated their relationship. He holds his breath until he feels her arms uncross and wrap tightly around his waist. Her fingers dig through the layers of his clothing to grip at the muscles of his back, her nose between his neck and his shirt collar.

The rain continues to fall heavily around them and he grins at the symbolism. He's always loved the rain; its redeeming and cleansing quality. He has the woman he loves in his arms and even though he doesn't deserve it, he's got another chance.

His lips rest on the crown of her head and he squeezes her to him; almost as though he can somehow meld her body into his. He didn't know so many feelings could be induced from a simple hug.

He feels Olivia take a deep breath and she pulls back. Without making eye contact she steps to the side and tries to get around him. For one second he thinks she's trying to get away

from him again, so he grabs her forearm and spins her around. Her back hits the door of the SUV and he presses against her.

"Don't you walk away from me again, Olivia." A warning. Her arm trembles where he's holding her.

Despite her physical reaction, she manages to choke out a laugh. "I need to get my bag, Elliot."

He feels himself drawn further towards her by the sound of her laughter. It's been too long since he's heard it. He looks down at her, her eyes watching him as he moves a clump of sodden hair to the side.

Despite his best efforts, her fringe is still sticking out at odd angles; her teeth standing out in sharp relief to the redness of her cheeks. But damned if he's ever seen anything more beautiful.

And then she smiles, and she proves him wrong. And he laughs because she's always tried her best to do that at every opportunity.

She's so close now; he feels her breath on his cheek. Her eyes wonderfully bright and he can see a promise and hope that had been missing for a long time. Too long. His heart clenches painfully at the thought of missing out on this. Of what's to come.

Of everything.

Her eyes drop to his lips and then lazily back to his; and her tongue darts to lick away the drops clinging to the skin he so desperately wants to get his lips on.

That's all the permission he needs.

He lets out something akin to a growl as his lips descend upon hers, one of his hands fisting in her drenched hair, the other gripping her thigh tightly so he can press as closely to her as possible.

Her hands have worked their way under his leather jacket, her fingers clawing at the taut muscles that have tightened at the taste of her. Olivia's tongue wins the first battle and his erection presses against the restrictive material of his jeans as her tongue sweeps through his mouth. She's making tiny noises in the back of her throat that makes his body vibrate, and he subconsciously presses harder against her.

The rain is heavier now and he's sure he's heard the distinctive rumble of thunder above them; but Cragen could walk up behind them and tap him on the shoulder and he wouldn't really notice. But one thing he can't ignore is the way his head is beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen, so he manages to tear his lips off Olivia's. Her moan of displeasure rolls into one of approval, his teeth marking the soft skin of her neck so she'll be able to tell tomorrow morning she's his.

Nobody else's.

Her hands try to sneak to the front of his pants, but he's too quick and she drops her head back in frustration as he locks her wrists in one large hand above her.

"You're an asshole." Her voice is the epitome of sex; low and sultry.

He grins against her skin, his finger slipping under her saturated top so he can toy with the lacy material of her bra. The rain has made the fabric stick to her skin and he becomes increasingly frustrated at his inability to feel anymore of Olivia skin in the palm of his hand.

His lips seek hers out again eagerly, his hand releasing hers so they can resume their exploration of his back. Water squeezes through his fingers as he grabs at the strands plastered to the side of her face. He thinks that if they don't get out of this rain soon, one or both of them will end up with pneumonia.

"Liv." He smiles against her lips as her response is lost somewhere between her throat and her mouth which is now occupied by his tongue.

She nips at it, then his lips as she draws away, her hands moving from his back to cup his cheeks. He sees a number of questions still in her eyes, but he gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"I missed you too, El."

His grin widens. El. Not Elliot. "I knew it!"

He hugs her to him as closely as he can, and he finally registers just how cold it is. Olivia's body is trembling in his arms, and this time, it's from the cold; not from their ministrations. He needs to get her warm, and he has the perfect idea.

"Come on." He pushes her fringe to the side, kissing the tip of her nose. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

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Tbc? Let me know! R&R.