Author's Note: I had an idea for a one-shot after Infiltrated, but I didn't write it. After watching Underbelly, I decided to just get it over with. I make no guarantees on the quality. Spoilers for season 8, specifically Informed, Infiltrated, and Underbelly. Credit for the title goes to the Dixie Chicks.
Her first thought is to run. To drop the bag of groceries she's carrying and run as fast as she can in the other direction. It's not that she doesn't want to see him, or that she doesn't want to talk to him – she does. She's missed him more than she thought she would.
She's just not ready to have this conversation. Not yet.
But she can't avoid him anymore. He's already seen her, having looked up from his place on the concrete steps of her building across the street. She can't even completely make out his face from where she is, but she already knows that his eyes have that abandoned look in them, that they look the way they do after he talks to his divorce lawyer. The way they looked last spring when she left without saying goodbye the first time.
She can't do that to him again. She can't make things worse than she already has.
Making sure there aren't any cars coming, she makes her way across the street and slowly walks towards her building, noting that he looks away as she gets closer. Silently, she sets the brown paper bag down on the steps and then sits next to him, a few inches between them as they continue to avoid looking at each other in an awkward silence.
Before, their conversations had been dominated by a comfortable silence, neither of them feeling the need to fill the empty space with meaningless words. But now, she doesn't think she's ever been more uncomfortable with it. Her foot moves closer to his, touching the dark green of his New Balance sneaker. I'm sorry. Almost immediately, he moves his foot out of her reach.
"Why-" "How-" they both start at the same time. He remains silent, so she begins again. "How'd you know I was back?" she asks.
She can tell the anger is bubbling up inside of him, even before he looks at her, before he opens his mouth. "Dani told me you stopped by the precinct yesterday," he says, surprisingly calm, choosing to fight the anger, at least until he gets an explanation. He's been pissed off for weeks, and he's had this conversation with her in his head more times than he can count. But right now, more than anything, he just wants to hear her explain. He waits for her to say something, but she doesn't. "Why…" he trails off, unable to finish. He can't remember ever having this much trouble talking to her.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say, Elliot," she says, finally getting the courage to speak. "I just couldn't… I didn't know what to say to you."
"How about goodbye?" he asks, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "How about Hey Stabler, I'm going to be gone for a while. How about leaving me a fucking post-it note on my computer screen that says See ya later?!" he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. "I would have understood. You know I would have. I just… Jesus, Olivia, not even a goddamn postcard?"
"I didn't have a chance," she says, shaking her head slightly. "I didn't have access to a phone before I left New York, and while I was under, it was too dangerous to contact you. I couldn't compromise my cover." She knows it's a lame excuse; that Alex went into witness protection, her life in much more danger than Olivia's ever was, and still managed to say goodbye. But it's the only excuse she has.
"You called Fin." His voice is void of emotion. "You've been home for almost a week."
"I didn't know what to say," she repeats, swallowing hard. After a moment, she reaches over, laying her hand on his forearm. He looks at her, his eyes softening. "I'm so sorry, Elliot."
He swallows hard, turning his head slightly to look at her. "When are you coming back?"
She simply shrugs, looking away from his stare.
"Olivia-"
"I don't know yet. Not for a while," she says, forcing herself to be completely honest with him. Well, maybe not completely, but as close as either of them ever gets. "I just need some time. I need to get used to being back. I need some time to figure out some things and I can't just walk back in and shake things up at work. You and your partner-"
"She's not you, Olivia. Dani's a good cop and I like her, but she's not my partner."
"Yes, she is," she tells him firmly, as much as it breaks her heart to have someone else hold that title. "I just need some time, Elliot. And you and I… We were just starting to get things back on track when I left. I know this setback is my fault, but we're not ready to be partners again. We can't just pick up where we left off and have everything be okay. Just give me some time, Elliot. Give us some time. That's all I'm asking."
"Just promise me something?" he asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. He had expected this conversation to go much differently, but despite how angry he has been for the last few weeks, he can't seem to find that emotion inside of him now that he's sitting next to her and hearing her voice. "Promise me that you won't ever take off without saying goodbye again. I can't..." he trails off, unable to be that honest. At least not yet.
She smiles softly, nodding once. "Promise."
Slowly, he moves his foot closer to hers, allowing it to touch the blue of her Nike. He says nothing, allowing them to settle back into an easy silence, one reminiscent of their old relationship. One that feels safe. Like home.
The End
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