Huge thanks to Sara (wikiaddicted723) and Sadie (Queequg417) for betaing this and making it so much better than it actually was. I give them a lot of credit for helping me with this and if they are reading I want them to know I'm very appreciative of all the corrections and the insights they gave me. This has been a great learning experience.

The low buzz of her vibrating phone filled the car, causing Olivia's body to jump slightly, bringing her back down to reality. She put a hand on Peter's sweaty chest and applied a little pressure, avoiding his eyes as he moved away from her towards the opposite end of the seat. The darkness caused Olivia to have to fumble through several pieces of clothing, frantically looking for the source of the buzz. It was typical of her phone to ring in a moment like that. But in all honesty, she was half-relieved it did.

"Dunham," she answered, gasping for air, her cheeks flushed and her hands shaking. Her other hand came up to awkwardly cover her breasts, a wave of regret washing down her body.

"Boston General, now." Her boss' voice boomed on the other side in his usual impatient tone.

"Yes sir." She turned off her phone, still struggling to breathe normally. She immediately started searching for her clothes, holding the undistinguishable pieces of fabric up to the dim light coming in from the street lamp, trying to tell if it was hers or Peter's. She could simply reach up and turn the light on, but, then, it would illuminate her naked body and the naked body sitting beside her on that back seat, probably staring confusedly at her.

Olivia felt stuck in a loop of regret, shame and incredulity, unable to believe what had just happened. The feelings were only exacerbated by the particular vulnerable position her body was in, naked and sweaty, blood still rushing through her veins, her heart still pounding in her ears.

She felt his hand touch her tentatively, fingers reaching out, barely grazing the skin of her lower back. She instantly pulled away, sensing his desire to connect and the discomfort her reaction caused. Unable to do anything about it at the moment, she concentrated on getting dressed, deciding to ignore him as much as she could.

It was hard, though, to keep her mind on such a mundane task when the after effects of what they had just done were still there. When she moved to slide her underwear back on, she could still feel the wetness between her thighs. Her hands shook as she put on her bra, her nipples still hard.

"What's up?" She heard him ask. His voice was quieter than usual, causing another strong wave of regret to wash over her.

"I don't know. Broyles wants me to meet him at Boston General. I'll drop you off at the hotel." She said her voice cold as she moved shakily over to the front seat her pants and shirt still unbuttoned.

Olivia couldn't forgive herself for doing what she had just done and, as she sat on the front seat buttoning her shirt and waiting for Peter to get dressed, she searched her brain, tracing back what had happened, putting consequence and cause together to try and understand how she had gotten there.

The feeling of him slipping out of her as her phone started ringing, were the most recent memories she had. They both had just been coming down from the heights of a very well synchronized orgasm, their bodies shaking, little explosions pleasure still subsiding inside her.

The feeling of release had been intoxicating. It had made her body feel like it was melting; all her muscles had suddenly felt heavy and deaf to her commands, taken over by little spasms that had felt so good and relaxing lying there in the back seat of her SUV, the leather sticking to her back as his body covered hers.

She remembered thinking about how the feel of his body covering hers made her feel protected after experiencing such an intense explosion of feelings that normally scared her. Her nails had been digging into his shoulders as she braced herself, her body losing control, a moan escaping her lips, her mind fogging with the force of the sensations, the feeling of release, that pressure turning into warmth rushing from her core to all her extremities. And what had pushed over the edge, she recalled, had been his rough voice in her ear.

"Relax," he had whispered, his voice hoarse, lightly catching in his throat.

His words had made her realize how in tune Peter was with her having obviously felt her body tense as she fought an inner battle, reason against desire. She had known it was wrong but she couldn't bring herself to stop him. She had actually desperately wanted for him to never stop, once his hand moved from between their joined bodies to the back of her head protecting it from bumping against glass as he had thrust in and out of her faster and faster, her inner muscles having clenched around him once he had slid inside her slowly, hard but gentle, making the voices in her head grow lower and more distant like indistinguishable white noise.

Those voices had been screaming at her before, telling her she shouldn't. She had been down this path before, and it hadn't ended well. But she had ignored them, feeling frenzied and out of control, having never been taken over by desire powerful and overwhelming like that. Desire that was triggered by the open mouthed kisses he was placing on her skin, tracing a path all the way down from her neck to her left breast, his hand drifting down between her legs his actions surprising her.

She remembered her surprise had been caused by his unexpected tenderness. She had just been expecting him to invade her after he put on the condom he had expertly gotten out of his wallet while kneeling between her legs on the sticky leather of the backseat of her car, causing her to sigh in relief, as she watched him unabashedly push his jeans and boxers down, thankful he had remembered because she had forgotten.

She was mortified she had forgotten that detail, but his hands were roughly pulling her pants down and the anticipation had been killing her. Those hands, she remembered, they that had just moments before slipped underneath her underwear and palmed her, making a surge of pleasure shoot up her body straight to her brain, causing words to slip out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Now," she had whispered as her body rose to meet him, when the tip of his fingers just barely slipped inside her, making him curse under his breath.

"Fuck," he had mumbled against her lips after their mouths had met for the second time that night, attacking one another as soon as she had laid on the back seat with him between her legs, her pants and shirt already unbuttoned.

She had dragged a shirtless Peter there from the passenger seat, needing to feel more of his body, telling herself that it was the alcohol that had made her start discarding their clothes moments before, ignoring the loud voices in her head that had been telling her to stop.

Her brain had been ordering her to stop since they started kissing and she had been suddenly overcome with desire. Maybe even before when his hand had felt so warm as it cupped her face and her mouth opened for his tongue, right as they had their first simple, tentative, and gentle touch of lips.

She should've had stopped him there, but it had felt physically impossible for her to stop even herself when his face had gotten closer and closer to hers.

She had just wanted to feel the warmth of his hand one moment longer. She had had every intention to tell him to stop when she had leaned her face into his hand. His touch had been too comforting to pull away from, after adrenaline had rushed inside her body triggered by the simple feel of his fingers on her cheek.

Right before his fingers had touched her, she had been feeling so relaxed, enjoying the comfort of his company, discovering that she didn't want the night to end, looking at his silhouette in the darkness of her car, her head resting on the steering wheel after laughing loudly with him, once they had realized they were both too drunk to drive.

Of course they were, having just had left a bar with her feeling strangely comfortable around him, pleased that the alcohol had numbed her uncertainties. Uncertainties that had surface when she had left that building with him, after nodding yes, when she had wanted to say no.

And she really had wanted to say no, but he had reminded her of a child, bouncing ever so slightly in place, probably too excited by still being alive. The way his eyes had shone before she had explained to him why she was going to have to decline his invitation. Those soft blue orbs had made her feel like she was the only person in the entire universe.

"Jones was just transferred to Boston General, so… I have a few questions for him… It's my last chance."

But she had never actually said no. And he had been adorable making comments that made her realize he paid more attention to her than she had thought. A comment that had reminded her he came back for her when she had just been wondering why.

"You wanna go get a drink… or five? I've seen you with a whiskey bottle."

And that was where it had started, the moment an uncertain choice, a tentative nod, had veered everything in a complete different direction. What had followed that simple question, a comment that would normally have been dismissed as a joke, had in fact been her downfall, the trigger to her loss of control, to her failure to keep her feelings at bay and suppress her need for comfort. The one moment that she had given herself a chance to breath, stop, and step away from all that madness that was her job, was the moment that caused her to run right into him. The moment that changed everything.

AN.: If you have gotten to this point, thank you. I hope you're not very confused. I had planned to make a series out of this, but this giant has killed me and probably given me ulcers, so I might just stop right here, I don't know. Thanks for reading, anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.