A/N: I know it's been FOREVER. Hopefully, you still remember what this is about. A thanks goes to Thatlazybum for the beta!

She feels like a woman. Alive, inspired, confident, and Elliot's woken dormant feelings within her that she was sure she'd never feel again. She feels like a strong and capable human being, and as she rides the high of Elliot's drug, she feels like she's on top of the world. Her heart still pounds in her chest, she can still feel her pulse somewhere below her belly button, and she can most definitely feel the warm weight of his hand in hers.

They walk at a steady pace, and although they're just out for a leisurely stroll, she's so worked up that she couldn't slow down her feet if she tried.

"Told you you'd feel better," Elliot says, and gives her hand a squeeze.

"Shut up," she replies, bowing her head trying to hide her grin. Elliot chuckles and they keep walking.

"You hungry?" He asks, scanning the area around them.

"Depends," she answers, looking up and him with a sideways grin, "On what I get to eat," and she wags her eyebrows, and winks.

"Aw, Liv. You're horrible." He tugs on her hand and renews their fast pace, shaking his head.

"What?" she protests, grinning. "Obviously I meant hotdog or salad bar." She frowns in fake confusion, happy to be playing with his mind. "Wait. What were you thinking?"

"What? You said-" he says in bewilderment, looking down at her.

"You thought I meant…God, El, and you call me horrible. I wasn't even thinking about that. Get your mind outta there," she laughs, because really, she was thinking that, but it's so fun to take him for a ride. No pun intended.

"Liv," he groans, with a grin. "Come on. What do you want for lunch?"

She looks as him quizzically and he stares back, and she slowly raises and eyebrow.

They both explode into laughter, and she notes that it feels so good to forget everything that's had her so stressed out, even for just a moment.

They're light, happy minute is brusquely interrupted by a young man, of about twenty five, approaching them and placing his palm on Olivia's shoulder. She and Elliot were busy relishing in the aftermath of their little joke, so neither saw the man arrive. At his touch, Olivia bolts up straight, her shoulders bristling, hand clenching around Elliot's before she quickly moves away from the unfamiliar hand and ducks closer to her partner.

"Whoa," the stranger warns, retrieving his hand and holding it by his head. "Whoa."

Olivia closes her eyes and tries to focus on Elliot's hand rubbing slow circles at the small of her back; she's trying desperately to swallow her irrational fear. Three breaths in and out, long and slow, and she finally clams her heartbeat.

"Sorry," she apologizes to the stranger, her hand tight around Elliot's.

"Uh, okay," the stranger answers, nervously. "Anyways," he licks his lips, "A guy just down the street asked me to give you this," he says, and promptly hands the white envelope to Elliot.

"Uh," Elliot says uncertainly, accepting the envelope, "Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it…didn't mean to cause any, uh, problems." He smiles weakly at Olivia, who tries her best to smile back. She's angry with herself, angry that such small things could send such irrational fear coursing through her body.

Elliot tears open the envelope that has his name scribbled across the front in tiny penmanship.

As he unfolds the piece of paper that was tucked inside, Olivia rises to her tiptoes to read over his shoulder.

Making moves on my girl?

Well then, let the games begin.

She's mine.

Olivia presses her fist tightly to her lips, in an effort not to panic. Elliot stands frozen, the paper quivering as he holds it in shaky hands. It is the small sound of panic from behind him that spurs him back to life. Harris was watching. He saw it all. He saw Elliot kiss her.

"Liv," he says, turning to her, and placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Liv, Liv, Liv. Shhhh," he moves his thumb in bold strokes at the base of her neck. "Look at me, look at me," he ushers, pulling her into the shaded part of the sidewalk, near the building entrances. "Stay. Here." He gives her shoulder a tight squeeze before taking off after the man who gave them the letter. He's a good ways down the street already, but he's wearing an eye-catching dark blue pullover, easy to spot.

"Hey!" Elliot yells in his best cop-voice. "Hey!"

He catches the attention of many people as he sprints, but it isn't for another good hundred metres that he catches the guy. "Excuse me!"

The stranger turns, and recognizes Elliot. "Yeah?"

Elliot approaches him frantically. "Where! Where," he pants, "Was the man who," inhale, "Told you to give the envelope to us?"

"Uh," the stranger says, looking irked at Elliot's erratic behaviour.

"Please!" Elliot yells, "Think! I'm a cop, and this is very important."

"He was back down the street, uh, that way," the man says, pointing back to where Olivia is standing, dazed, against the building's brick wall.

"What!"

"Yeah, just down back there, only across the street." He points instead to the flower shop across from a store a little ways past Olivia. "There. That flower shop."

"Thank you," Elliot says emphatically, "You've been a great help."

"Uh, you're welcome," he says, but Elliot can barely hear him for he's already turned and sprinting back to Olivia.

He keeps his eyes trained on her as he runs, and he bites his lip when he sees that she's shaking, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and her expression blank.

"Olivia," he breathes, when he reaches her, and he slowly brings his hands to her shoulders in an effort not to startle her.

"El," she whispers, his name falling from her lips automatically. "El, it's him."

"I know. I know, Liv. Go in here," and he wraps a hand under her elbow and ushers her into the closest store, a small bodega advertising the cereal two for one special. He opens the door and gently pushes her inside, careful of her instability. "Stay in here, Olivia. Okay? I'll be back soon. Just. Stay. Here."

"El!" she says, more loudly, suddenly gripping his sleeve tightly. "El, it's him!" and her eyes are shut tightly closed and he's silently begging her not to panic. Please, Liv, please, just let me go find him. Just relax. Don't break down now.

"I know. I know, honey. Just…stay here, okay? I'll be back."

"No!" she grips his shirt more tightly. "I- I can't."

"You can." He catches her gaze and looks into her eyes steadily. "You. Can." He gives her a reassuring smile. "I'll be right. Back. Don't move from this spot, okay?"

And before she can react, he tugs his sleeve away and closes the bodega door behind himself, effectively keeping her safely in the store. He takes off in the direction of the flower shop, running like he's never run before. Several cars and an assortment of other modes of transportation honk loudly at him or express their discontent with their voices as he darts across the wide street, dodging vehicles and cyclists, to get to the other side of the street. He ignores them; he's intent on his plan of getting to the flower shop as quickly as possible.

When he's made it to the front of the store without being run-over, he scans the area in front of the shop. His hands are clenched into fists and his ears would have smoke coming out of them if he were in a cartoon. No one, he means no one, threatens Olivia. Not if he can help it. Ever. This sick sonofabitch is going to pay a high price for his games. He observes the surrounding area again. Nothing. No sign of him. Elliot pushes through the glass door of the store, and walks in brusquely. He jogs over to the clerk at the desk.

"Did a guy come in here, tall, black hair, uh, healing injuries on his face?" Elliot pants, his hand gripping the desk.

The clerk looks at him in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Elliot doesn't have the patience for this. He needs to find Harris and release his pent-up anger on him.

"I need to know now, if a guy with that description came in here. Please."

"I just got on shift five minutes ago. I've barely had time to open the register yet. I'm sorry sir," the lady replies, "I can't help you."

"Shit," Elliot mutters under his breath, and he pushes away from the counter, proceeding to jog down the aisles of flowers, baskets, and miniature statues of garden gnomes. He kicks as things that get in his way, too worked up at the prospect of someone being so disrespectful toward his partner, angered at the fact that she is being threatened. It's new for him; too, the fact that he feels threatened too. He's never felt out of control as much as he does today, and he's scared to shit because he knows that Harris is watching them now, and that every move Elliot makes has consequences. He runs his eyes past every corner that he goes by, but soon realizes that his effort is fruitless. There's no place big enough or secluded enough in this popular florists shop to hide, let alone camp out.

And though Elliot would love nothing more than to pound Harris' face in, the bloody his knuckles on Harris' jaw, he gets no relief.

Harris is long gone.

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Olivia sits on a stool just inside the entryway of the store, her shoulders hunched, her arms wrapped around her middle. She's rocking herself back and forth slowly, her gaze trained on the tiled floor.

Where did Elliot say he was going again? She'd been too worked up to really hear him. All that registered was that he was leaving. He told her to stay. She begged him to stay. And he left. She's scared again, and she's damn tired of feeling that way, but she can't help it. She can't help it. It's not just another perp out to get her. This time, there's a sick psycho that tried to rape her coming after her to finish the job. Oh, God. Elliot. Where's Elliot. She wants him. She wants him. She needs him. She's alone and the walls are closing in and she can't breathe, she can't breathe, she needs to go home now…And it's Harris, it's Harris, it's Harris again…

"Liv!" he exclaims as he opens the door of the small store, the bell up top jingling animatedly. "You're here." He breathes a sigh of relief, but the wind is quickly knocked out of him as she stands and hurls herself violently into his arms, wrapping her arms in a tight hold around his shoulders.

"El!" she yells, her face in his neck. "It's him, it's him!"

Elliot realizes that he should never have left her there alone.

A/N: SO, we're back in action...whaddya think?