The view from the rooftop always had a way of calming her. Not that she even noticed tonight. The night air was thick with humidity, but she barely even let it register.

She didn't want to talk to anyone, to see anyone. She could always come up here and think. Deal with her anger. Cry. This was her coping place, but tonight, it was falling short. It wasn't helping.

Her face felt tight from the trails of drying tears. Her mind was racing, in a thousand directions at once. It was all making sense. No wonder he hadn't returned her calls.

It had always been their way. When things got too hard, when the conversations grew uncomfortably intimate. He didn't want to face her, to tell her the truth. It was just too much.

She took the subway home that night, something she rarely did. The rhythm and movement of the train seemed tuned to her raging thoughts. Usually, it helped. But not tonight.

She arrived at her apartment, and as she made her way up, everything felt heavy. The parts that didn't feel numb, anyway. She dealt with the locks, threw down her belongings, her movements robotic and foreign.

She poured better than three fingers of brandy in a tumbler, and made her way to the sofa. She'd spent a lot of nights sleeping here since the shooting, and figured that tonight would be no exception.

She sipped the fiery liquid, savoring momentarily the heat that it brought to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes again, out of nowhere, and she gripped the tumbler, her vision distorted once again. She blinked and her face was wet again. Her mind was reeling and it was so painful. Everything hurt.

Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, her eyes stung. But over everything else, she couldn't stop the pain inside. She had felt the sting of loss before, but she now knew exactly what a broken heart was supposed to feel like.

Olivia downed the rest of the brandy, leaned back on the sofa, and hugged her knees to her chest. She was afraid. Afraid of giving in to the pain. Afraid she would never come back from this. Afraid of moving on.

The knock at the door was a jolt of electricity, pulling her back to a conscious state. Her heartbeat was choking her. But it wasn't fear, it was…knowing. She didn't have to ask who was there; she didn't need to check. Because she knew. It was their way.

She walked to the door in a dream-like state, wondering if at any minute she would wake and all of this would go away. She wiped at her eyes and opened the door.

He's there, and his eyes are red. Like maybe his heart could be broken, too. Neither one moves, neither speaks. She doesn't try to hide the pain in her eyes, and he sees. He sees it all. He breaks the silence, finally.

"Liv…" One word, one syllable even. But it held so much.

She's not even angry with him for not talking to her. She knows how he works. She opens the door and stands aside, allowing him in. She always lets him in.

They move to the sofa, wordlessly, without touching. He begins, and his voice cracks just a little.

"I'm so sorry, Liv." It's not much, but it gets to her. She bites her lip, trying to fight it.

He wanted to touch her, to hold her and never let go. There was so much he had let go of already. His marriage, his job. He didn't want to lose her, too.

He moved a little closer, forearms resting on knees, his head in his hands. He couldn't look at her. The pain was too much.

"I just…think this is the right thing for me," he continued. He exhaled a ragged, pained breath. "After the shooting, something…changed in me. It took something from me, and I don't think I can ever go back to the way I was before."

She knew this already. Without words, without conversation, she knew. It had always been that way with them.

Hearing his words seemed to assuage the hurt, just a little. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But no matter how close they were, there had always been a line. One that neither of them dared to cross. And tonight was surely not the night to start.

He looked at her once again. "This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

She could see the unshed tears in his eyes, and she knew that it was about more than just his departure from SVU.

"I know." Her voice was hoarse and bogged down with emotion, and for a moment they just stared.

And the more she looked at him, the more her resolve began to crumble. He always had a way of doing that to her.

She swallowed hard. Exhaling sharply she whispered, "I just…I don't want to lose you. I can't, El."

The last words came out in a strangled sob, and she didn't resist when his arms went around her. He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair, and simply let her cry. He stroked her back as she clung to him.

"Olivia, that's why I'm here."

She took refuge in his embrace, his familiar feel, familiar scent.

They stayed intertwined for a while, each drawing strength from the other. They had always sort of completed one another, in a lot of ways.

The air around them was becoming charged. There was a silence, but it was filled with so much. He was the first to pull back, and when he did, she felt the fine stubble along his jaw as it grazed her temple. A little sound escaped her, and the breath immediately caught in her throat.

There had always been a very palpable attraction between them. It had so many angles, so many layers. Nothing simple and every bit of it complicated.

She met his eyes and felt the heat from inside out. His hand moved to grasp the nape of her neck, tangling into her hair. And it was too much.

They would never know who moved first, but in an instant, she felt his lips slanting across hers. It felt as if he had taken the breath from her; she felt his tongue tease her lips apart. And she let him in.

Their tongues slid against one another in a delicious friction, his grasp of her hair growing tighter. He pulled her onto him, and she felt the hard muscles of his chest and arms, the surprising softness of his skin. She felt everything.

Their bodies grew warmer as the kiss intensified. She moaned against his lips when his hand slid under her shirt, gliding up the middle of her back. She began making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, her favorite shirt. It was the color of his eyes.

She slid the shirt from his broad shoulders, as he helped to remove it. And in one quick movement, he gathered the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and off with expert precision. She felt herself grin at his eagerness.

His jaw clenched at the sight of so much skin. But it still wasn't enough. He stood, discarding his pants and socks, and watched as she did the same. They were clad in only underwear, and neither one questioned how they had gotten to this point so quickly tonight.

But it had been years in the making. All the longing, the dreams, the stares. It had always been there, simmering slowly underneath the professionalism and boundaries that had always been present. But the rules were different now.

He sat back down on the sofa, pulling her onto his lap. He could feel her warmth through the thin cotton of her panties. She could feel the effect she was having on him as well.

He reached behind her, unhooking her bra, and letting it fall away. Something like a growl came from deep down inside him, and Olivia bit her lip, insanely excited by it.

He used his hands, his lips, and his tongue-all in beautiful unison. Her nipples were hard against his tongue; he only stopped his exploration briefly when he felt her hands upon him.

His erection strained against his boxer briefs, and Olivia used her hands, from palm to fingertip, to explore every inch of him. The fantasies could not even compare to this.

He caught her hand to stop her teasing, and pulled her down for another bruising kiss. She abruptly pulled back, panting, her body on the verge of explosion.

She pressed her breasts against him, leaning down to kiss his jaw, running her tongue around his ear, whispering.

"Take me to bed, El. Please."

He moved quickly, picking her up, her legs wrapped around his waist. He reached her bed, lying her down, slipping off her panties and doing away with the last of his clothes.

She could scarcely remember a time when she had ever felt like this. When he moved above her, pressing down against her, it wasn't foreign or scary. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Skin pressed against skin, and she could feel his length, hard and ready for her. He leant down and kissed her again, this time with more tenderness than she had ever known him capable of.

He looked at her, his eyes questioning, asking a silent permission. His eyes closed as he felt her reach between them, guiding him inside her.

He was completely sheathed within her, and time seemed to stop for a few seconds. His breathing became faster, harder. He reveled in the sounds that were coming from her, as she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. He forced himself to remain still, not wanting to forget the feeling of it all. Olivia whimpered, grinding her hips against him, forcing the movement. He groaned, grinning at her need for him.

He sucked at the soft spot behind her ear, eliciting a heavy sigh from her. He felt her nails dig slightly into his shoulders, spurring him to thrust deeper, faster.

Their rhythm matched perfectly; they moved together, both entranced by the sounds and sensations. She began to murmur his name, mingled with moans and other incoherent sounds. He could feel the tightening start deep inside her, and obeyed her body's every need. Her nails dug in a little harder; every muscle was tensed.

She cried out and he felt her spasm around him. And it was all too much. He grasped a handful of her hair, as his thrusts became more and more urgent. His other hand was in the curve of her hip, pushing her against him while making sure he wasn't hurting her with his weight.

He could hear her begin to mumble something, and she was calling out his name once again. She climaxed again, and this time, he joined her. He groaned out his release as she clung to him, their bodies wet with sweat, the room filled with the sound of their sighs.

When the shuddering had subsided, he remained within her. He propped on his elbows as her fingertips caressed the nape of his neck.

He looked down at her, hair splayed against the comforter, skin flushed and moist. She was comfort and beauty and love and…everything. And he wondered why in the hell they had waited so long.

He kissed her, and he was amazed at how different everything felt. Now that he knew. There had been so many changes, for the both of them, really. But through it all, she had always been his constant.

He knew that work would be hard for her without him there. At least at first. It was going to be hard not staring across the desk and seeing her there. They had come to depend so much on one another. But she was strong, and he knew if anyone could work through it, it was Olivia. And deep down, he knew he was making the right decision by not coming back.

They finally moved apart, snuggling underneath the covers, arms and legs entwined. She nestled into the hollow of his shoulder, and in that moment, she realized that everything was indeed going to be all right. It was going to hurt like hell when the time came to be yoked with a new partner. So much of the familiarity was gone, and she mourned that. But now, they could have something so much more than they had ever had before. Now that they weren't hiding behind their badges anymore. Now that they were allowed to love one another.